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I nod. “Yeah, and I don’t think it likes him. He looked like shit; I’ve never seen azephtando that to someone.”
“His control is tenuous, then,” Malix says. “That’s good—and perhaps we can use it to get out.”
He moves to stand next to me and reaches out for the vine that curled out toward me. He blanches when it winds around his finger, but he doesn’t move…and then he hisses out a breath and snatches his hand away, blood trailing from a pinprick wound in his fingertip.
“Itbit me,” he mutters.
“What the fuck?” I say. “Let me look at it.”
I’ve just grabbed his hand when there’s a sound from the other side of the door, then the familiar chime of a control panel. We both move back from the door as it slides open, the modern technology tearing at the newly grown vines around it.
Three Skoropi wait on the other side, fully masked and wearing combat bandoliers when they seemed perfectly at ease before.
“Turn around,” the one in front orders.
“What’s going on?” I ask.
“You’re needed in the atrium,” he says. “The general wants to speak with the two of you.”
I can’t see his face; his helmet blocks it, leaving only flaring red eyes beneath. He’s angry, that much is clear. I turn around and lock eyes with Malix for a moment, tilting my head in what I hope is a subtle signal. This is our chance. If we want to escape, we should act now…before they drag us back down to that monster at the center of the temple.
A pair of cuffs touch my wrists, cold metal on sensitive flesh.
I’m not done fighting like hell.
I shift my wrists and duck, spinning around to barrel into the Skoropi soldier. He tilts back, their balance superhuman, but Malix has already pulled the knife from his belt and driven it into the sensitive underside of the soldier’s tail. He lets out a cry and goes for Malix, but I sprint behind him and pull out the knife in that moment, running right out the door while Malix deals with the first soldier.
The other two are ready for me, one of them swinging a crossbow up to point it in my direction. I weave out of the way and he shoots his buddy in the shoulder, the bolt embedding itself in a scale. I wonder if they’re poisoned like the one that hit Taraven—if he just doomed his friend to a slow death or immediate medical care. I don’t have time to worry about that, though, turning around and pulling the bolt from his shoulder.
A spurt of blood gushes out on the floor, a sickening splatter sounding as the walls glow brighter.
Gravity shifts. I feel my hair stand on end, a single curl floating beside my head.
It drops again.
We don’t have much time.
That moment of distraction costs me everything.
A clawed hand catches me across the face, searing pain erupting across the bridge of my nose, my lips, my cheek. I cry out and crumple to the ground, momentarily blinded with pain. I try to see through it, my head raising to find Malix striding through the door with a crossbow on his wrist, a knife in his hand, raining hell down on the last Skoropi outside.
I can’t…
Another wave of pain hits me, and I heave up what little rations I have left in my stomach. Malix’s hands are on my shoulders, pulling me to a seated position. I blink again, but there’s blood in my eyes.
“Malix,” I blabber. “I can’t…what the fuck, I can’t see.”
“It hurts, but it’s only cosmetic,” he says. Fuck, I hope he isn’t lying to make me feel better. This hurts like a motherfucker. “Keep your left eye shut.”
“I’m…” I try to close it, but it hurts. I let out a sob. “Dios mio, he got me right in the eye, didn’t he?”
“I need to get you out of here,” Malix says, very noticeablynotresponding to my question. “Can you stand? Are you injured anywhere else?”
“Malix, did he get my eye? Is it…is it still there?”
Malix’s arm winds around my shoulders and he pulls me to my feet. He’s quiet for a moment as I stand there with blood pouring down my left cheek, my head swimming. I think I might throw up again.
Then something soft touches my face.
