Page 161 of Vasmora

Glancing down to make sure Rho was still at my heels, my stomach flipped on itself.

He was gone.

Through the buzz of growls and shouts, a quiet yelp from behind had me searching the ground for him.

“Rho!” I called out, skidding to a stop.

“We have to keep going!” Zevander growled.

“He’s behind us!” I wriggled free of his grasp, and before he could snatch my limb, I ducked low, dodging the others who scrambled around as I crawled on hands and knees between their legs. A few meters away, Rho lay pawing at the ground, his leg dragging behind him. Bodies stumbled around him as mercenaries fought off the creatures, his small form caught in the melee.

“No,” I whispered.

“Maevyth!” Zevander called, but I ignored him, my eyes fixed on the pup.

I reached out my hand to swipe him up, and a white-hot burn streaked across my arm. Beside me, one of the Aqedormisz lay trapped beneath the massive corpse of a razorwolf whose back had been torn open, chewed from the looks of it, exposing its spine. The creature clawed at me again, and I noticed a growing pool of orange fluid spreading onto the stones beneath it. Injured.

Good.

Another yelp snapped my attention back to Rho, and my heart lurched as one of the Aqedormisz dragged itself from the wall toward the helpless pup, the lower half of its body torn away.

A cold, coiling rage twisted in my stomach, and skirting around a mercenary’s corpse, I pushed closer and reached out for the monster’s throat with my gloved hand. Teeth clenched, I squeezed and summoned the death glyph to my fingers. Its head tumbled to the side, separated from its body by a disintegrating line of ash that fell over my fingers, and the rest of it slumped to the ground beside Rho.

I gathered the pup in my arms, tucking him safely into my dress.

“Maevyth!” Zevander called out again, closer than before.

“I’m okay!” When I finally rose to my feet, the fighting around me had stopped, one of the mercenaries collapsing to the ground as a cluster descended upon him. Corpses of Wrathborne, wolves and monsters piled around me. The few remaining men darted in the direction of the portal.

A grip of my arm startled me, and I turned to see Zevander clutching me. With a hard tug, he hauled me toward the exit.

The wisp of a growl slid past my ear, but I caught only a glimpse of the creature who’d leapt toward my back.

Zevander spun around at the same time I slammed toward the ground, dropping Rho before my body smacked against the stones. My lungs contracted, the air knocked loose, and I coughed. Another growl, that one a decibel louder, rose from beside me.

The bloodbinder barreled into the creature that’d attacked, the two of them rollicking over the corpses. I grabbed Rho once again, and as Zevander and I turned in the opposite direction, my stomach sank. A few dozen or more creatures dropped from the ceiling, blocking our path, that unnerving chittering of their teeth skating down my nerves.

“Fuck.” Zevander raised both palms, and his scorpions skittered to the ground in a seething mass.

One of the creatures exhaled a pale pink mist that engulfed the scorpions, fading them to black smoke.

“That exit is going to close when one of them gets too close. We’re going to have to fight our way out,” Zevander said, yanking his sword from its scabbard.

Tucking Rho into one arm, I summoned my whip. “Then, so be it. They will have to pry this pup from my cold dead hands!” In one swift move, I drew back my whip and lashed it toward them. Bodies exploded in a spray of orange blood and limbs as the whip cracked against their torsos.

They charged toward us, and I struck out again, splitting the attackers into bits of wet flesh. As I drew back a third time, two bounded toward us, scrambling over their fallen and too fast for the strike of my whip.

Zevander stepped in front of me and swung wide, the arc of his blade precise as he lopped off their heads in one swing.

I rounded him and cracked the whip again, snapping it against bodies, which burst on impact, as we inched our way closer.

“Keep them in front of us! They can’t retreat!” Zevander called out, slicing his blade across the throat of an Aqedormisz that darted overhead.

The creatures scattered for the walls, scampering around us, and we backed ourselves toward the portal, weapons at the ready.

I spared no more than a fleeting glimpse over my shoulder, toward the few mercenaries guarding the way out. God, how badly I wanted to run toward them, but timing was crucial. If the Aqedormisz got close before we reached it, we’d be trapped. Frustrated, I swung the whip in an arc, striking three across the ceiling.

The others retreated toward the piles of corpses, and with the path clear, we ran forward toward that merciful glowing light.