Page 277 of Vasmora
“No! Come back!” an all-too familiar voice called out from behind, and Zevander twisted around to see Gavroche swipe Rho up into his arms. The boy stood wearing a sheepish grin as he waved back at him.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Zevander growled. “I told you to stay with the others!”
“I know …” Brows pinched, he hung his head. “Miss Maevyth told me to watch the puppy. She said don’t let him wander off. But he did.”
Zevander made a sound of disapproval and raised his hand. “Stay there. Stay back.”
“Quickly …” Cadavros wheezed and coughed. “My time … is drawing … near.”
“Zevander,” Lothare said quietly, and Zevander turned to see him holding up the dagger. “The blood on the blade. Is it yours?”
Frowning, Zevander raised his hands, staring down at a gash he must’ve sustained during the fight with the mutations. “Fuck.” He snapped his gaze back to Lothare. “Try to wipe it off.”
Lothare dragged the blade over his leather pants, then with a nod, he sliced it across his palm. Bright red blood bubbled up from the cut he’d carved, and he dripped it onto the amulet.
As Zevander watched, damned near grinding his teeth, the blood moved through the grooves that formed the spider on the outside of it, before sinking into the stony surface, where it emitted a yellow glow.
“What does this mean?” Lothare asked.
“It confirms your royal bloodline. Had it been tainted, it would’ve cracked.”
His eyes narrowed to a look of suspicion, but Zevander refused to answer whatever questions swirled there.
A bellow of pain reverberated from behind, and Zevander swung around to see Cadavros’s body doubled, his limbs shaking. A long, curled horn snapped from his bony skull and crumbled as it struck the web. “He’ll be … at his weakest … when he exits … my body. I’ll try … to hold on … as long as I … can.”
“Will the godsflame kill him?” Zevander asked.
Cadavros’s other horn snapped away, and he raised a trembling hand to the stump left behind. “No. But it … can wound … him. Do not … let him … make you … his vessel, Zevander. Your resistance … to flame … could protect him … from the amulet’s … curse!”
Zevander shifted his attention back to Lothare. “Go! Take the amulet to the vein and toss it into the fire. Quickly!” At Lothare’s nod, he twisted around for Gavroche. “And you. Take the pup and return with the others. Do not wander off again.”
The boy also nodded, but just as he turned back toward the tunnel, a spider stepped forward, taking up the width of the entrance. Gavroche tumbled backward, nearly dropping the pup when he skittered over the web to get away, until standing halfway between Zevander and the entrance.
“Get back, Gavroche!” Zevander growled and strode past the boy, toward the beastly spider, sword at the ready.
The spider reared back, ready to lunge, but Zevander struck fast, sawing off its legs in one fluid swing of the blade. As the creature collapsed forward, he drove the blade down into the space between its head and abdomen, just as Corwin had shown him. The spider twitched, its remaining legs curling beneath it.
He raised his sword for another strike, but a sound like that of a tree snapping brought him to a halt.
He slowly turned around.
Behind Gavroche, Cadavros’s belly bulged and shrank, as if something were trying to push through. Cadavros released a hoarse sound in his throat, and a skeletal head popped through his chest cavity in a burst of black blood.
“Gavroche! Move!”
The boy lurched.
But not fast enough.
A silken strand lashed out, catching him by the neck and digging into his throat. Eyes wide, Gavroche dropped Rho and clawed at the bindings.
Both Zevander and Lothare charged forward after him.
In a blur of movement, the boy was yanked backward, and Zevander’s hands swiped only at air.
Blackened teeth sank into the boy’s neck, and he cried out.
Zevander raised his palm, forcing clarity into his thoughts while he summoned the godsflame and aimed it at the creature half-sticking through Cadavros’s blown chest cavity. The ancient flame burst across his palm, lashing through the air.
