Page 64 of Vasmora

A low, guttural growl erupted from the cave at my back.

I snapped my gaze that way, turning over to my knees, and searched the darkness within. Even at my full height, the torches on the wall were too high to reach.

Which meant, by the time I caught sight of whatever dwelled there, it could be well into attack.

Distant screeching gave the impression there were more.

My bones shook, the ache in my shoulder throbbing, my finger pulsing and numb as I cradled it against me. A quick scan of the ground failed to provide anything that could be used as a weapon. Not even a rock or a stick.

As I scanned over the sandy floor of the pit, I noticed a few skulls lying about. Mancer, I’d guess, given their human shape.

Another screech echoed from the middle cave, the wretched pitch of it ringing in my ears.

The shadows shifted around a massive figure gliding forward, as if the sand were water beneath it. A giant, snake-like creature that reminded me of the basilisk grandfather Bronwick sometimes read about to me as a child.

An ancient and powerful beast.

Light bloomed over its scales as it slid toward the center of the pit, its massive shadow swallowing me when its body uncoiled.

Mouth bone-dry, I trailed my gaze up the length of it, a cold terror slithering between my ribs. Air stuttered in my throat, as I backed myself to the wall behind me.

Its eyes stared down at me, shifting with my every twitch. To the left of it, another emerged, only slightly smaller by comparison, and a tremble pulled at my muscles, urging me to run.

I’d seen snakes pursue mice, though. Imagined the way I’d goad their instincts with a chase.

Panic chewed at my brain, stifling my ability to think. Pressed into the cavern wall, there was nowhere to run, anyway, unless I darted for what I imagined was their nest.

Cunning eyes of vertical slits locked onto me. One of them hissed, baring razor-sharp fangs that would tear into my flesh like a hot blade across a ripened peach.

It lunged toward me.

The air split with the speed of its strike.

I turned my head to the side, bracing for the inevitable impact, and held my breath.

A wintry blast rushed over me, settling into my bones.

“What is it doing!” Loyce growled from overhead. “Attack!”

I dared to open my eyes, not a cell in my body calm or still, my muscles shuddering. A strange growl rumbled in the beast’s throat as it dragged its snout down the length of my arm, and I turned to see it focused on one singular spot–the cut that continued to bleed.

“Kill her, you wretched beast!” Even through the shrill ringing of terror in my ears, I could hear the rage in the general’s voice.

The colossal head of the serpent quickly recoiled, drawing back as if my scent had offended it. The other struck fast, but just like the first, it stopped short to sniff me.

As it drew back, the other roared.

They roared at each other, their spine-tingling screams braiding together into one unbearable symphony that rattled my nerves.

A ground-splitting thud slammed the sand beside me, throwing up plumes of dust as the serpent struck its long, forked tongue there. I’d have thought it meant to attack me and missed, but he recoiled and struck again, sliding backward.

Defending itself?

The other did the same, their tongues snapping the ground around me, stirring a cloud of dust, until both retreated back into the caves.

Loyce let out a scream of fury. “Bring her up!”

Long poles, their ends a steel loop like a noose, lowered into the pit. I slid to the side, dodging the swipe of a guard.