Page 251 of Vasmora

An ear-piercing scream shook the walls as she collapsed to the ground, clutching her wrist where an arrow-like thorn had impaled her palm.

Dolion rushed to her side and tugged at the thorn.

“Don’t! I think it’s seared to my bones!” she cried out, curling her hand to her chest.

The spider reared up for another attack and Dolion dragged her away, to the other side of the statue where he propped her against one of its stony legs to examine her hand for any sign of the black veins.

Nothing that he could see.

A spider behind Branimir darted forward, and he swung around, thrusting forth his hand. “No!” Teeth clenched, he let out a groan, the infection crawling down his jaw to his shoulders.

The spider jerked to a standstill but lurched, as if it wanted to defy the order Branimir had given it.

“Rykaia … get back!” Branimir growled, as the beast broke from its pause and sprang back onto its hind legs.

Dolion pushed his magic outward, his Nexumis tingling across his palm with a wave of Deblitasz, which should’ve rendered the creature paralyzed. Instead, it rubbed its legs together, just like the one before, sending up a plume of fine hairs that drifted across the room.

A burning sensation in Dolion’s throat had him placing a hand against his neck. Beside him, Rykaia coughed and bent over, drops of bright red splashing onto the gritty stone floor.

The offending spider lunged forward, but Branimir struck out, capturing its leg. With one rough heave, he slammed its body to the ground, the spider’s legs twitching and curling around Branimir’s outstretched arm, fangs snapping at his face.

Branimir snatched the dagger from beside him and dragged the beast closer. In one swift move, he stabbed the blade into the space between its head and abdomen. Black ooze leaked from its wound, and it collapsed to the floor, spilling dark blood over the map strewn there. Branimir tossed away the knife and fell onto his side. A large gaping hole marred his arm where one of the fangs must’ve pierced him. “Open the … portal!”

“Where does this portal lead?” Rykaia asked, her voice hoarse and trembling with fear.

“The tunnels beneath the city. It’s where Cadavros is hiding.” Dolion shoved to his feet and hobbled past her for the stretch of stone wall, swiping up the discarded blade along the way and keeping his eyes on the spiders that seemed to watch him.

“And he wants you to send him there?” she pried, her eyes flitting from him to Branimir.

“Get behind the statue. Stay with Allura.” Dolion ordered, ignoring her question. There was no time to explain the gravity of the situation. Dagger at the ready, Dolion sensed movement behind him and spun around in time to see one of the spiders charging toward Rykaia.

Branimir dove forward, swiping it up into his arms. The creature’s fangs sank into Branimir’s neck, and he let out a strained cry, throwing it backward until it hit the wall adjacent to the hatch.

“Hurry, Dolion!” Allura urged. “They’re getting restless!”

Nodding, Dolion turned back for the wall and set his finger to draw the circle.

One of the bigger spiders scampered for Dolion, and as the mage spun around with the blade, white hot pain seared the back of his palm. Sharp fangs sank into his flesh like a blade through warm wax. Dolion stood in disbelief, his limbs cold and stiff. Too stiff.

In one jerk of the spider’s head, it tore away his fingers on a spray of blood. Dolion opened his mouth for a scream, but nothing came forth.

Four severed stumps oozed blood where his fingers used to be. A frigid, numbing shock spread outward from his chest, to his limbs and throat, rendering him speechless. The room spun in his periphery.

Allura screamed beside him, and as the spider lurched for him again, a fist came out from nowhere sending it flying backward.

Torryn slashed his sword, slicing away its legs, and stepped in front of Dolion, whose attention turned to the black veins crawling up his wrist from the wound where the fangs had penetrated.

Dolion’s knees buckled, and he collapsed to the ground, the gore blurring as blackness closed in from the fringes. “Cut it off,” he rasped. “Cut it off!”

Torryn spun around, glancing down at Dolion’s arm, and the moment he held it outstretched against the ground, the bigger man raised his sword. In one clean strike, Torryn chopped off Dolion’s arm up to his elbow.

Waves of icy nausea moved through the mage, and he rested his head against the stony floor, focusing on his breathing.

A tearing sound crackled in his ears. Hands reaching for his bleeding arm. He jostled as someone fought to wrap it. Darkness closing in.

Across the room, the spider that’d blocked their path to the staircase lay in three pieces across the ground. Presumably diced by Torryn’s blade. He stared at the head, its black, soulless eyes watching him. Perhaps if it could’ve spoken, it’d have told him what a fool he was to send its fellow spider into those tunnels. The thought made Dolion chuckle as he drifted into some strange euphoric state where everything moved slowly. As though he were submerged in water.

“Rykaia!” Branimir shouted in a distorted voice. “Open the portal.”