Page 61 of Whispers of Ruin
Turning, she searched the jungle behind her. She didn’t see anything, but they were there… watching her.
A shiver raced up her spine, but while whatever was out there unnerved her, they couldn’t be much of a threat if they hadn’t attacked already. Could they?
Sure, they had a barrier in place, but she’d heard them since the very beginning, before she’d ever put a bubble around their campground. At first, they’d been foolish enough to think they could handle whatever came at them at night.
Then the dwarf was stolen, and they’d known Doomed Valley had far more hazards than they could have imagined. After that, though it weakened her, she’d placed a barrier over them every night, but whatever was behind these whispers could have gotten to them in the beginning, and they hadn’t.
Kaylia eyed the barrier. It was invisible to anyone who wasn’t a witch, but she saw the colors dancing through the magic the witches had weaved.
She walked back to the edge and rested her fingers against it. A thrill shot up her arm from the power thrumming through the bubble. There was so much of it here, and it was all still intact. Nothing was draining or weakening it.
She leaned closer as the whispers grew louder and mingled into one chaotic mess that didn’t mention their names anymore. Turning her head, she leaned forward to rest her ear against the bubble to see if she could understand them better.
When she was only inches from the barrier, something lashed out of the night and crashed into the barricade.
CHAPTERFIFTY-EIGHT
Kaylia staggereda few feet away from the protective barrier as a small, cylindrical, slimythingcrept across the surface. From the shadows, bright red eyes blazed out from the night.
Unable to breathe, Kaylia watched the monstrous creature making its way over the surface before retracting. The whispers became an excited, almost frenzied babble of nonsense as they grew louder.
The hair on Kaylia’s nape rose; there was a reason for their increased excitement, and it couldn’t be a good one.
When she caught another flash of red eyes to her right, she realized these monstrosities were surrounding the bubble. Kaylia backed away from the barrier as the colors swirled with more intensity.
The spell would hold against them for a while, but she sensed they were plotting something as they sought a weakness in the shield. Ten feet away, another one hit the barrier with a thud. It left a slimy trail behind as it felt its way over the surface.
Kaylia didn’t take her eyes away from the protective barrier as she edged closer to the camp. On her left, another cylindrical thing smacked into the wall. From this angle, she could tell it was an appendage as a three-inch wide, red, circular attachment ran from the slimy tentacle and deeper into the jungle toward a set of unblinking, red eyes.
Is it a tongue? How is that possible?
She couldn’t answer those questions, but she shouldn’t be here. None of them should. They’d entered the domain of something extremely lethal, and it was looking to feast.
Kaylia had almost retreated to the camp when another presence stopped her. She didn’t know how, as she couldn’t smell or see him yet, but she was certain Brokk stood nearby.
Tearing her attention away from the jungle, she turned to find him about ten feet away from her. His forehead furrowed as he studied her. “Is everything okay?”
“No. There’s something out there.”
His gaze flicked past her, but when she looked at the jungle again, she didn’t see any of thosethings.
“They’re out there,” she told him, “and they’re hunting us.”
“They can’t get in here.”
“I think they’re plotting something.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know.”
Brokk removed his sword from its sheath as he strode toward her and held out his hand. She didn’t hesitate to take it, and the second her fingers entwined with his, a sense of security crept through her, and some of her terror eased.
Together, they would figure this out and get through it.
Brokk pulled her closer and locked her against his side. As soon as she was nestled securely against him, red eyes flashed through the night.
“It’s them,” he murmured.
