Page 159 of Vasmora

“Fear them? No. Do I avoid them? Yes. Like most, I’d imagine.”

“Well, someone has to take up the middle. We can’t all lead or follow.”

Both of us turned toward Daelan standing behind us.

Zevander groaned, twisting back around. “Seems we’re going to need another muzzle.”

The older man chuckled and pressed his palm to his mask. “Promise you won’t hear a peep out of me when we get in there. Though, I can’t promise I won’t piss myself if someone else happens to break the silence.”

Gods, that had to be the worst of it. Not so much the creatures themselves, or the fact that we’d be trapped inside a corridor beneath the sea. But that our survival depended upon everyone being quiet. I glanced down at Rho, nibbling on my lip. Even the most innocent bark or growl could endanger us.

“Should the Aqedormisz wake, the moment one of them gets close to the portal, it will seal shut, trapping us inside,” Lothare said, addressing the group. “It’s imperative that we remain quiet.” He swept his gaze over us, then led the group forward, those in front disappearing into an invisible wall that swallowed them one by one.

My pulse thrummed as we trudged forward like cattle for the slaughter. Just before my feet met the foamy swash of a wave, I stepped into the air as if carried by an unseen force. What little light had bled through the dark overcast from before turned a bone-chilling pitch of black.

As the darkness gave way to a pale purple light, I lifted my gaze to the ceiling of the cave where a mossy carpet covering the stalactites glowed overhead. Tiny specks floated on the air, one of them drifting in front of me. A tiny jellyfish, about the size of a fly, propelled through the air across my path. It moved in time to an incessant, droning roar that drummed in my ears, like water thrashing against the gallery wall, though I didn’t feel a drop of it.

The purple glow illuminated the moldy stones that’d weathered with time and decay, while a putrid stench of raw sewage and rotted fish clogged my lungs, mingling with the nausea already roiling in my stomach. Beneath me, piles of bones littered the floor, and the dark stains left me wondering if it was dried blood.

The arc of the rock ceiling protruded like a ribbed throat, stretching well beyond the light’s reach and wide enough that I could comfortably walk alongside Zevander and two adult wolves. A glance over my shoulder showed mercenaries following behind us, and the bloodbinder thrashing his head back and forth, creating a quiet clank of metal that didn’t seem to trouble anyone. His arms and legs were held secure by the men who flanked either side of him, his handler towering over him as he trailed behind. Rho kept to my heels, his ears flopping with every carefree step, tongue lopped to the side. As if they’d been warned prior, the pups didn’t so much as whimper as they padded lightly through the air.

Staring down at him, I caught a tiny glimpse of something as we passed over, but the group moved too fast for me to actually see what it was. When another strange form passed beneath my feet, I slowed my steps to get a look.

A humanoid face of gray, sunken skin, stretched over prominent orbital rims that made its eye sockets look deep and hollow. Its nose was nothing more than a cavity of bone, its mouth abnormally wide, filled with rows of sharp teeth. The ribcage protruded through its chest, the skin so thin, the bones almost appeared to be on the outside of its body. Two small horns atop its head and long, pointed ears gave it the appearance of a bat, reminding me of the Vampyr I once saw sketched in Grandfather Bronwick’s books.

“Aqedormisz,” Daelan whispered from behind me, confirming my fears.

I held my breath, its slender, pale gray body not moving so much as a twitch. Curved, grisly talons that reminded me of scythes clutched the decaying remains of what looked like a bird, given the bedraggled feathers. The creatures appeared to be about half my height, but their terrifying features made up for their small size.

I swallowed past the sudden dryness in my throat, crossing my arms to stave off the cold slithering over my skin. I’d faced monsters twice the size of them, acid-spewing spider mutations and even gory visions of the dead, but not even they’d instilled the same unsettling fear that tremored through me right then. To know that their waking meant being trapped.

Another creature that looked like the first appeared to be sleeping on the opposite side of the corridor. A few steps further, another. More of the creatures lay piled and slumped against the walls that we quietly passed, like discarded toys in an abandoned trunk.

Minutes ticked on for what felt like an eternity, each step more harrowing than the last, as we ventured deeper into the tunnel, farther from escape.

Cold gnawed at my already frazzled nerves, and when one of the creatures jerked, I slapped a hand to my mouth to keep from gasping aloud. Slowly we stepped over it, those tines of teeth chattering, leaving me to imagine how easily they’d tear through skin.

Zevander’s hand slid into mine and he gave a reassuring squeeze that didn’t quell the nervous thrumming of my pulse.

We kept on through the corridor, the air growing colder. Stagnant. I avoided looking down as much as possible, keeping my eyes on the mercenary’s back in front of me, every sniffle or whisper from the others stoking my anxious thoughts.

Lothare raised a finger into the air and glanced over his shoulder, indicating an hour had passed since we’d entered the corridor. Somehow, it felt longer. The dim glow persisted, proving that we were still too far from the end, as the darkness stretched on ahead of us.

More minutes slipped by. Perhaps my fear had plateaued, because my muscles relented and I didn’t feel the need to hold my breath every time we passed over one of them. At least we’d passed the halfway point, which meant we were closer to the end, and as my mind began to wander, imagining what it would feel like to step back out into fresh air, the tension gave way to calm.

One of the tiny jellyfish drifted in front of me again, and I raised my palm, allowing it to rest there. Appreciating the distraction, I smiled as its miniscule tentacles brushed over my skin, tickling my palm, before it floated upward again, over my head, toward the men behind me.

At a tap on my shoulder, I snapped my head to the side to see Daelan pointing at something ahead, and I looked back to where the path curved around a dark, jagged bend adjacent to a treacherous drop into whatever dark abyss lay below. Stalactites hung from the arched ceilings in rows that looked like teeth.

“Devils Teeth,” Daelan whispered again. “Almost out of here.”

A rush of hope coursed through me, but it withered in my chest when I peered over the edge of the jagged cliff to our left to nothing but darkness below. Nerves raw and burning with tension, I swept my gaze over the clusters of Aqedormisz that lined either side of the pathway. If they woke, there would be too many to fight off.

No sooner had the thought crossed my mind than a rustling from behind skated down my nerves. A few steps behind Zevander, one of the mercenaries swatted at the air, the abrupt movement clanking his weapon against the silver buckles, and the entire procession ground to a halt.

The mercenary froze, his arm mid-swat, hovering in front of him.

Below us, the Aqedormisz shifted, a strange clicking noise echoing through the corridor.