Snapping off another large cup, I scope Rhordyn from my lofty perch, eyeing up my frowning target. “Catch.”
I let go, certain it’s going to hit him in the face, but his hand whips up in a blur, snatching it split seconds before it can pelt him in the eye. Lips straight, he gives me a stony look that tells me exactly how little he appreciates me throwing shit-spawned mushrooms at his face.
“Got it,” he bites out, waving it at me. “Now get down.”
“You’re being very bossy for somebody twelve feet below me.”
I look back to the cluster, eyeing up my next target. Doesn’t hurt to have a healthy stockpile in my pocket for later. A few moments ago, my skull felt like a hammerbeak’s cage, and I have no interest in feeling that way again while we’re trundling through this muggy hell.
“Orlaith, I need you to come back down. Now.”
I grasp another fat stem and snap it free. “What you need and whatIneed are two entirely different things,” I say, dangling my ammunition over his head, aiming for my growling target.
I drop the mushroom, frowning when he steps to the side. Peering past me, he lets it fall to the ground rather than catch my shit-shroom like a gentleman.
I tsk. “That’s not very nice. Let’s try that again.”
I’m plucking another stalk when a blow of wind shakes the branch, and I reach up to the one arched above me to steady myself.
Itmovesbeneath my hand …
I jerk back as a shrill hiss ignites my nerves. Stilling, skin tingling, my gaze slides up the thick, smooth branch.
Except it’s not a branch at all.
A massive snake shudders, its brown and blue scales morphing into skin as black as the darkness coiled within my shadowy chasm. Faster than a flicked whip, its big, boxy head snaps around, red eyes blinking open, slitted pupils narrowed on me.
Heart hammering, I suck a sharp breath as the snake’s long forked tongue slithers out, tasting the air.
My skin.
Its mouth cranks wide, exposing a sinewed cavern, two large, piercing sabers flexing down from its upper jaw.
My hand grips the hilt of my blade …
There’s a whistling sound, and the snake’s head slides off its wiggling body, a spray of blood splattering my face. I hug the tree as the thick, meaty length of its torso plunges past me, thudding to the forest floor in a squirming heap.
I look over my shoulder, and my heart fumbles over a foray of scattered beats.
Rhordyn’s perched on the branch behind me like some fierce, mighty feline—teeth bared, ears sharp, his eyes an inky oblivion that shades the surrounding skin. He’s wielding my plain silver sword that’s slicked in blood, his beautifully barbaric body splashed in shades of red.
“They’repackbasilisks,” he snarls, slamming the sword into my hand. “And they’re very territorial. Once their nest is disturbed, they swarm like a fucking plague.” He leaps, landing so hard upon the ground vibrations travel up the tree.
Through my bones.
He rips his sword from its sheath. “Stay there,” he growls, leering up at me with wild eyes. Something thick and green as the grass slithers out of a nest of nearby shrubs, skin shuddering into a squirm of darkness. The serpent whips up, arching, maw cranked and fangs bared at Rhordyn’s back.
Phantom hands seem to reach down from above and snatch my throat in a vice as he spins, cleaving his sword through the basilisk’s meaty neck so fast the entire motion is a blur of black and silver and richly tanned skin.
Of hissing, snarling might.
Silky plumes of blood spill across the grass.
The entire jungle seems to oscillate, and my surroundings unspool into a swarm of seething, slithering serpents that change color before my eyes, going from blues and browns and steely tones to a tangle of inky death—charging Rhordyn.
Lashing at him.
My throat tightens …
