Page 248 of Vasmora

DOLION

Branimir sketched away on the dungeon floor, while Dolion fed the long, golden thread into the portal that flickered and wavered. His swift strokes slowed and he stared off. “I see his nest.”

Still holding the rope, Dolion frowned, studying the way Branimir’s face ashened even more than usual. “You’re certain?”

Erratic strokes had him sketching a figure, encased in a tunnel-like hub within a web. Hundreds of white sacs hung from the webs surrounding the hub, some piled on the floor.

Cocoons.

Dolion looked closer, studying the details of the figure Branimir had drawn.

Long, branching antlers. Segmented legs. Deep sunken eyes. Soulless eyes.

“Cadavros,” Dolion said, tilting his head for a better look.

Mid-stroke, Branimir drew an errant line across the page before he stilled. His hand shook. “He sees him. He’s looking right at him.”

The visual he’d drawn, paired with his words, sent a chill down Dolion’s spine. “Who? Your spider?”

“Yes. There are hundreds of them.” Branimir flattened his branch-like hands against the floor, his chest rising and falling rapidly, as if he were there experiencing it firsthand. “They’re ascending quickly. Falling from webs.” He curled his fingers, leaving long divots in the stone where he clawed at the floor. “They’re going to kill him. They’re attacking!”

Dolion tugged the rope, hand over fist, to draw the spider back, pulling the tether through the portal as fast as he could.

“They’re biting him! The f-f-fangs!” Branimir slapped at his arm as though he’d suffered the pain himself. “So many!”

Dolion slowed his reeling, holding the thread loosely in his hand. A bite would mean infection. He couldn’t risk infecting the other spiders. And Branimir. Dolion rushed toward the portal, swiping a knife tucked inside his robe, and cut the rope linking him to the spider.

“No!” Branimir said, reaching out just as the portal closed. His hand shook, closing to a tight fist.

Dolion stood guarded, uncertain what he, or his pets, might do in retaliation for his abandonment. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t … your brother would have my head.”

Branimir squeezed his eyes shut and lowered his fist. “No. You did the right thing.”

Exhaling a relieved breath, Dolion pressed a hand to his pounding heart, staring down at the pile of golden thread at his feet. An object tangled in the ropes captured his attention. Off-white with brown striations and a glossy sheen.

A bone.

How the hell had it manage to get tangled up in the threads?

He lifted it from the golden pile, noting a splintered gouge in the surface that must’ve snagged the thread’s fibers when he’d reeled it back.

Carved into the flat surface of what he’d merely guessed was a humerus bone, from its shape, appeared to be a symbol. Deliberate, like the bones had been cursed.

Curious, he peered down at the drawing Branimir had sketched, noticing piles of bones lining the passageways. He knelt alongside one of the sketches, studying a bone in the image that bore the same carving as the one in his hand. Two joined circles that reminded him of an infinity symbol with arrows. All of the bones seemed to be carved with it. He twisted around for another sketch of a branching tunnel lined with bones carrying the same symbol.

Strange. So many of them.

“Excuse me, Branimir. I’d like to have this examined by Allura.” Dolion turned to find Branimir clutching his head, his face screwed up in pain. “Are you all right?”

“Fine,” he said, twisting away from the mage.

Clutching the relic, Dolion nodded and hurried off, so transfixed by the artifact that he nearly collided with the massive spider statue blocking his path. He recoiled and skirted the statue, carrying the bone down the corridor to the staircase. Before he could ascend to the upper floor, Allura and Rykaia appeared above.

“There you are,” Allura said. “We’ve looked all over Eidolon for you.”

“Oh? Did you need something?”

“I wondered if you might know an exorcism elixir,” Rykaia asked. “It seems Maevyth has been possessed by a wretched demon.”