Slaying the Vampire Conqueror(87)

Yes, I’d already confirmed—multiple times—that there was no way to circumvent the nest, at least not without running a very high risk of sending us all off to our deaths.

“So what are you looking for?” he asked, irritated, and I shushed him again, louder.

“Let her work!” another of the soldiers barked, and Erekkus whirled to him, fists clenched, obviously desperate for an outlet for his frustrations.

Weaver save us. Men.

I tried to ignore the squabbling in the background and focus. Honestly, I couldn’t have answered Erekkus’s question if I’d wanted to—I didn’t know what I was looking for, other than some piece of information I’d missed, something critical that would save us. A miracle, I supposed.

The slyviks hadn’t dispersed, and they hadn’t gotten any less active. Actually, perhaps there were even more of them than before, though it was impossible to tell for sure. There was a lot of interference in the threads from this far away, partly because slyviks’ movements were especially difficult to track, and partly because there were so many other nests nearby in other branches of the paths. All those movements blurred together from so far away.

It was strange, I thought sleepily, that such territorial creatures— Something hard jostled against my back, knocking me away from the wall. I let out an oof as a stray elbow clipped my ribs.

I came back to awareness to Atrius shouting at Erekkus and the other soldier in clipped, harsh Obitraen, the two men hissing curses at each other as they reluctantly separated.

Atrius returned to my side and stared after them disapprovingly.

“Childish,” he grumbled. “They need to be thinking about more than their egos.”

I shrugged. It was almost a little comforting that men fighting for dominance over things that didn’t matter was universal, human or— I stopped breathing. My hand flung out to Atrius’s shoulder. When I let out a weak laugh, he gave me a look that questioned my sanity.

He was about to question it even more.

“I have it,” I said. “I know how we get past.”





41





It was probably when the slyviks roared, all together, that I thought maybe this was not the best of ideas.

One slyvik’s scream was a bone-chilling sound—dozens of them, layered on top of each other, echoed like an orchestra of death. We were so close to them now that their smell stung the air, a scent of decay and blood. I no longer had to sense them through the threads—I could feel their movements through the vibrations in the rock as their powerful bodies hurled from wall to wall.

I stopped around a corner. Atrius nearly stumbled into me. The visibility was especially poor here. Even vampire eyesight was mostly useless.

I whispered, very, very softly, “They’re over there.”

A muscle feathered in Atrius’s jaw. His presence exuded resolute focus. If I’d had time to think about anything other than the bloodthirsty beasts mere feet away from us, I might have stopped to appreciate exactly how fearless Atrius was. I wondered if Nyaxia had appreciated what she’d had in him—probably the only man alive who’d throw himself into any inconceivable task a goddess might toss his way without a second of hesitation.

And yet, when his gaze slipped to me, that resolve flickered. Just a little, so quick I almost missed it.

He’d wanted to come up with a way that I didn’t have to do this. I knew that, even though he didn’t express it aloud. But we both knew that I was critical to this plan. He didn’t have to be, though—that, we’d argued about. It didn’t make sense to put the most important person here in this position. Let it be Erekkus, I’d said. Let it be any of his men.

He wouldn’t hear of it.

So here we were. About to do perhaps the most dangerous, stupidest thing I’d ever done, and if we got ourselves killed, everything would be over.

The stakes were, if nothing else, exciting.

“Are you ready?” I whispered to him.

He looked at me like this was a stupid question.

Of course. He was always ready.

He stepped in front of me, slow and silent. In his arms were three canteens, which sloshed with blood.

One more reason this had to work: because if it didn’t, the vampires would starve to death.

Atrius uncorked the canteens, one after the other.

The first, he tossed slightly down the path, the blood spurting out and trailing over the rocks below. Then, after pausing a moment, he took the second and hurled it as far as he could into the darkness of the mists.

Immediately, I felt the stirring interest in the slyviks. First one, then the others. Clicks and purrs, then growls, echoed from down the tunnel.

I grabbed Atrius’s wrist. “Now,” I hissed.

We’d gotten their attention. The blood gave us head start. Now it was time to run like hell.

Or stumble like hell.

It was the best I could do in the darkness. I clung to the walls, one arm extended behind me to grip Atrius’s, and felt our way forward as we ran. Behind me, I heard the steady sound of blood dripping onto the rocks as Atrius dumped the final canteen behind us, leaving a crimson trail. When it was empty, he dropped the container.

And then we heard them coming, stirred by the scent.

My steps quickened. Atrius’s strides lengthened, our gaits shifting. I thought it would be impossible to truly run over these rocks. I was wrong. When you hear a herd of slyvik screams behind you, you run.