“Do you have the mask?” Hadrian whispered. “We might need a little help.”
“Working on it,” Avalon stuttered.
“You don’t have it on yet?” the captain whispered—too loudly.
The creatures squealed and lunged, and the princess and the captain broke apart. Avalon ducked under a Skorpio’s body just before its extendable jaws would’ve skewered her neck.
Trapped on the floor with no way to get back on her feet, she rolled around the Skorpio’s legs, dodging each strike of its stinger.Boom. Boom. Boom.Flipping onto her back beneath the creature’s massive, quivering body, she raised the mask to her face.
Just before it could seal with her skin, a leg knocked it out of her grasp. It clattered against the bloodstained wall, catching in a web before it could hit the floor. Avalon called for Hadrian’s aid, but the captain was too busy keeping the other three occupied. He’d already lost one of his swords, though he’d sliced open several bellies. Blood and innards covered the floor of the House, the smell rancid.
More than once, Avalon swore Hadrian hesitated before striking. It made her wonder if the House was showing him something else entirely. Something other than Skorpios—and terrible enough to make him question what was real.
Avalon scrambled to her feet and backed away from the enormous creature, knocking aside bones as she went. The Skorpio hissed, exposing blackened gums that pulsed as the rows of teeth extended. Stories told around the hearth during Long Winters suggested the creature’s saliva was as venomous as its stinger.
Avalon blanched.
The creature wasted no time in taking advantage of the fear it could clearly smell on her. It lunged, and Avalon dove to the side. Her cloak tangled between her ankles, tripping her. The ground rose to meet her with a bone-jarring slap that nearly knocked her unconscious. Otherworldly shrieks echoed against the walls.
The mask was close. Avalon’s fingers closed around its edge just as the Skorpio grabbed hold of her legs, dragged her out of Hadrian’s reach, and down a tunnel. The darkness swooped in to render her blind. A scream erupted from deep in her lungs, scorching her throat.
But by the time Hadrian’s head snapped up, she was already gone.
~
Sable knew she was in grave danger before the mask had even sealed with Avalon’s skin. From her place within it, deep in that endless quiet and dark, she’d sensed something was wrong. And then she’d heard the screams, the hissing, and the strike of blade against flesh and stone.
And then she’d smelled it—the acrid stench of evil and rot. Then she saw, and—possibly worst of all—she felt as Avalon’s body was dragged down a tunnel, the ground damp with the gods-knew-what. The many possibilities made Sable want to gag.
Somewhere far away, Avalon groaned.Sable. The thought was the barest whimper.
Pretending she was still unconscious, Sable dragged her hand up behind her, searching for a weapon hidden on Avalon’s body. When her hand grazed an ice-cold item pressed against her back, she realized Avalon had a dagger tucked into her pants, the hilt protruding above her pant line. It was in Sable’s hand in a heartbeat, and before the creature could drag her any further than it already had, she swiped the dagger up and gutted it.
The Skorpio screamed, the sound so loud that Sable shuddered. Gritting her teeth against the ache in her eardrums, she dragged the blade up, sawing through its abdomen. Blood splashed on her face and ran down her shirt.
The creature struck its body against hers, winding her as she was crushed against the floor. But it wasn’t dead. It was just getting started—and it was angry.
The Skorpio aimed to puncture Sable’s organs with its pulsing stinger, but she dodged each strike, avoiding it by a hair’s breadth. Sable slashed at its legs—one, two, three—until all of them had been cut open. Legs now quivering under its own weight, it screamed and dove for her, pincers clicking together.
Sable rolled and launched to her feet. The Skorpio scurried after her down the tunnel—just as she’d hoped. After several strides, Sable kicked her feet against the wall, running up the side of it and back toward the Skorpio. She flung herself into the air, took the dagger firmly between her hands, and landed directly behind the creature’s head. It reared up on hind legs, throwing its body this way and that as it tried to shake her off.
The hilt of the dagger was cold in Sable’s hands as she brought it up—and then drove it deep into the Skorpio’s head. The creature’s final scream died off into silence. When the body hit the floor, Sable somersaulted forward and sprang back to her feet.
Nine Hells, it felt good. It was good to be back.
~
From where she was squatting high up in a narrow tunnel, Sable watched as the massive creatures lumbered through the shadows below.
Flesh,they hissed to one another.Tasty treats for our queen and her humble servants.
Yes, quite—
Kill them,a scarred Skorpio rasped from down the tunnel.Kill them all.
Many years had passed since these foul demons had freely roamed Elderyn; the few who’d survived the Great War had fled to the darkest parts of the realms to live out their immortal days in solitude. It wasn’t surprising that some still dwelled in the House of Dreams, though it concerned Sable that she could suddenly understand their strange tongue—a language of the Otherworld, one the people of Elderyn referred to as Shadow Speech. Sable figured the House must reveal truth to those who ventured inside. What better way to loosen one’s bowels than to lay bare the words of such wretched creatures?
Wiping the blood off her face with her sleeve, Sable crept through the tunnels. It was doubtful the Skorpios would bother her up here. Most were likely down below… At that thought, Sable pitied Hadrian, though the captain could likely handle himself—for a while, at least.
