Page 250 of Vasmora

“Where is he now?”

Rykaia shrugged. “Chaining her to the bed? You might want to wait to seek him out. Nothing good ever comes from being chained to a bed.”

“Dolion!” Branimir called out, his voice strained.

Dolion swung around and hobbled past the spider statue to find Branimir on his knees, bent forward over the drawings.

“I think … we’ve made … a grave mistake.” He groaned, clutching the side of his skull.

“What is it? What’s happened?”

Branimir gasped and clawed at the floor, scattering the stack of parchment.

With his arms outstretched, Dolion urged the women back a step. “Give him space.”

Thick, black veins pulsed around Branimir’s skull, crawling down the length of his face. “I’m … hearing voices. Too many at once!”

Voices. The same way Kazhimyr had heard voices. It seemed the attack on his pet had conferred infection to him, and quite possibly, the other spiders.

Dolion turned toward the statue behind him, recalling when he, Allura and Calisza had come through the portal, and Branimir’s spider had attacked the infected mutation. If Branimir could become infected through his pets, it seems it would’ve happened then.

Why hadn’t it?

The glittery surface of the statue captured his attention for a moment. Had Calisza’s royal moon power severed the connection between him and his spider? The ancient blood magic had always been a mystery to mages. It was possible the hardening to moonstone had killed off or trapped the infection.

A tingle at the back of Dolion’s neck had him turning around.

Beyond Branimir, his spider pets crawled through the floor hatch, some the size of a medium dog. Others the size of mice. The largest of them reared up and hissed.

Dolion eyed the creature that seemed particularly fixated on him. “These voices … what are they saying?”

Palms pressed to his ears, Branimir winced. “They want me … to kill … my brother.”

Rykaia backed up a step in Dolion’s periphery.

“Do you believe you might be infected, Branimir?” Dolion asked, damned near certain of it.

He let out a dark chuckle. “Zevander … and I … have carried … this affliction … our whole lives. Only … our flame … keeps it away.” The amusement in his voice died to a whimpering sound, and he pushed himself away. “But I saw … a vision. It will … consume me.”

“No.” Rykaia shook her head. “No, it’s not true. You’re not infected.” When she stepped forward, one of the spiders rubbed its legs together, sending tiny hairs into the air.

A high-pitched squealing sound grated across Dolion’s skull, and he let out a grunt, clenching his teeth.

“Enough!” Branimir roared, rolling onto his back, and the squealing ceased, though the spider’s body remained hunched as if it might pounce any moment. “They are … infected as … well.”

The spider that’d hissed twitched, raising its leg, watching them.

From his periphery, Dolion caught a glimpse of Allura slowly stepping around the statue toward the staircase. A gossamer thread shot across her path, attaching to the far wall, and she slammed to a halt. One of the spiders prowled along the thread, blocking her escape.

“What do you need us to do?” On the floor beside Branimir, Dolion spied the dagger he’d used to cut the rope earlier.

“I need you … to open … the portal. I will … lead them … away.”

Attention flitting from Branimir to the spider watching Allura, Dolion silently calculated how fast he could swipe up that blade.

As if sensing his intent, the spider blocking the corridor reared back.

Allura raised her palm at the same time the spider lifted its front legs in counterattack. Past the beast’s thick fangs, a dark shape hurled through the air, splitting the back of her hand straight through the bones with a sickening crack.