Page 275 of Vasmora

He had a point, much as Zevander hated to admit it.

“Save your power for the real fight.” Kazhimyr sheathed his sword. “From my own experience, the villagers might be salvageable in the end.”

“Agreed,” Torryn added. “If they wake and attack, we’ll fight.” He slammed his meaty fist into his palm. “But let’s not kill all of Costelwick in one sweep.”

Zevander wanted to laugh at that. Wouldn’t be the first time he’d slaughtered an entire village. Had he journeyed alone, as he’d planned, they’d have already been set aflame, but he didn’t have time to argue. Instead, he trailed his gaze over the ceiling webs, following the path of the silken strands to where they converged into a funnel that spiraled into a dark abyss.

Above the funneling webs, he could see the rounded dome of the hub. The nest, no doubt. The heart of the infestation.

He patted at his chest and thigh, a quick check of his weapons.

“What are you doing?” Maevyth asked, her eyes brimming with worry.

“Going after the amulet. This ends now.” Again, he took in the hundreds of cocoons about the room, daring himself not to summon his flame.

“I’m coming with you,” she argued.

“You may need to protect Rykaia, in the event these cocoons hatch.” The words didn’t fall easy from his mouth. It troubled him that he couldn’t keep her at his side, but Zevander couldn’t say what he might find in the pit of that nest. And she’d proven herself capable. Quite capable. He took in another glimpse of the warriors still kneeling before her. Gods be damned, he’d never seen anything so magnificent in his life. One minute, he’d been praying to the gods to let Maevyth and Rykaia escape unscathed, the next, he’d watched her command an army as if she’d been born with a sword in her hands.

“Okay,” she answered.

He tipped his head and frowned. “No stubborn protest?”

Her brows tightened as she swept her gaze over the room of cocoons. “I can feel their hearts slowing as the infection consumes them. Their stomachs hollowing. They’re going to wake. They’ll be starving when they do.”

Teeth grinding in his skull, he stood pensive. If they all hatched at the same time, there’d be hundreds of them. Perhaps more than her soldiers. Certainly, more than the humanoids they’d just fought.

The press of her palm against his chest broke his thoughts. “Stop overthinking. I can do this. I can protect her.”

Zevander sighed. “I’ll try to get in and out as quickly as I can. If I don’t return within the hour …” His brows furrowed. “Find a way out.”

“You know I won’t do that.”

“I’m urging you, moon witch. Don’t come looking for me. Find a way out.” He pointed toward Gavroche. “I’m counting on you to lead the way.”

Gavroche gave a sharp nod. “I won’t let you down.”

“You haven’t yet.”

“The last time you fought him …” Her throat bobbed with a hard swallow. “Promise me you’ll come back.”

“I always do.”

The smile pulling on her lips didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I love you.”

He bent closer, sending up another quick prayer to the gods that it wouldn’t be the last time he kissed her. Soft lips pressed to his, and Zevander clutched the back of her head, the urge to stay with her gnawing at him. He forced himself to break the kiss. “I love you more.”

He gave a sharp nod toward Lothare, and as Kazhimyr and Torryn lurched to follow, Zevander raised his hand to stop them. “Wait for Lothare and me here. See that everyone gets out of here safely, if we don’t return.”

Kazhimyr shook his head. “The two of you shouldn’t be going after him yourselves.”

“You know I’d prefer to go alone.” Zevander clipped a nod toward Lothare. “But I need this rat-kisser’s blood for the amulet.”

“Who are you calling a rat-kisser, Scorpion?” Lothare crossed his arms over his chest.

“Don’t fuck off in there,” Torryn warned. “Or I ain’t promising nothing.”

Zevander hardly smiled, his mood still somber after Branimir’s passing. Shaking his mind of the thought, he jerked his head for Lothare to follow and strode toward that ominous funnel of webs, crossing the room over pools of black ooze, until he reached its mouth. He swiped up one of the torches braced on the adjacent wall and lit it with his black flame. Once it’d caught, he braced his boot up onto the thick webbing and climbed up into the mouth of the web.