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Once the block closed behind him, Azar croaked, “Tell me.”
“They made it through a starway,” Kanta replied, his tone stiff. “You’ll find them on Moonides.”
“Moonides.” He blinked with surprise. “Then they’re already dead.”
Nothing—no vision, premonition, or warning—could have prepared Neeka for what happened next. As she moved to Rathbone’s side, two daggers in hand, a giant white spider with cottony fur, ten yellow eyes, and ten spike-tipped legs creeped over the ceiling in slo-mo. A thick, putrid substance oozed from a mouthful of fangs.
Her wings buzzed with aggression. The creature was something usually only seen in nightmares.
A word drifted through her mind, and she shuddered. “I think this is a zombider.”
“It is,” Rathbone said when she chanced a glance at his lips.
“If I know me, and I do, I told you not to enter the cave until we figured out a way to kill the disgusting zombider.”
“You told me nothing. You passed out.”
Oh. Well. “My bad. So. Have you ever fought one of these?” Would her daggers do any damage to such a colossal beast?
“Never. But I’ve heard of them, and I know a single bite can spread the infection to immortals.”
Temporarily, she hoped. Surely their immortality would cleanse them. Uncertainty seared her sternum. “Do me a favor and don’t die.” Otherwise, she’d be stuck in this world until another flasher showed up.
“Same, oracle. Same.”
As if he cared.
The thought must have fueled the memories that waited at the fringe of her mind; finally they pushed front and center, and she gasped. The elixir. Her attempted seduction of Rathbone. The Hall of Secrets. Lore and her disastrous endgame. Everyone Neeka loved dying if something wasn’t changed.
Any lingering resentment she harbored toward Rathbone faded. They’d kissed. That lip-lock, brief as it had been, was progress. He might not want to want her, but want her he did. At least periodically.
Lowering, the zombider blocked an entrance to the spacious tunnel that stretched behind it. The only way out. It didn’t attack, but paused to look over Neeka and Rathbone, no doubt preparing its dinner menu. First his liver, then her kidney, then a hunk of both their brain matter.
Instinct shouted,Strike!
With a war cry, Neeka tossed a dagger.
The blade sank into the creature’s eye, and it opened wide its mouth. Releasing a high-pitched shriek? Must be. Rathbone cringed while Neeka’s eardrums throbbed.
As dizziness assailed her, two spiked legs swiped through the air at a blurring speed. She went high as Rathbone went low.
Ding, ding, ding.The battle was on. The zombider lunged, attempting another swipe while chomping those fangs at Neeka. The perceived weak link? Irritation guided the launch of her second dagger, cutting through another eye, creating enough of a distraction to allow Rathbone to slice off a spindly leg. The loss didn’t slow the beast.
Tiny white bugs scrambled from the wound and jumped on Neeka.
“Ahhh!” she shouted as they skittered over her skin. Pain fogged her vision, but she flung them off and stomped on each. “Drive it back, and I’ll go for the bone.” Wait. What? There was a bone here?
Her gaze shot to Rathbone. “There’s a bone here?” he echoed, grabbing a fiery log from the pit, and advancing on the creature with strikes of his own.
“Oh, yeah. Did I forget to mention that, too?” She followed him, amazed by his skill. The effortless way he alternated between offense and defense. His speed surpassed even the zombider’s. When he struck, he struck hard and sure, never missing.
Releasing a series of awful clicks and calls, the creature scurried up and down the rocky walls. Rathbone didn’t back off.
Bone, bone, where was the bone? She scanned the darkness. There. As Rathbone fought on, she ducked and dodged and rushed forward until she reached the ledge of an enormous pit.
Down, down, down, she peered, finding thousands of bones in a mammoth pile. All that remained of the creature’s former meals. Her stomach twisted. So many pieces. How was she supposed to find Lore’s?
Wait. Did she see an outline of the goddess, frantically waving her over?
