Page 124 of Eldritch (The Eating Woods #2)

CHAPTER EIGHTY

ZEVANDER

“ G ive him back to me or I swear by all that is holy, I will awaken the god of disease and wreak havoc on both Mortasia and Aethyria!” Maevyth’s voice echoed in the dark space of Zevander’s mind, her words, the sound of her voice, like an anchor of light in darkness.

A tight clench of his chest loosened its grip, as he gasped the first breath, and his body hurled back into consciousness.

“Who’s…selfish now?” he rasped then coughed, as the air slowly seeped back into his lungs. He opened his eyes, and a deep chuckle rumbled through his chest when he looked up to see her bent over him, the fury and determination that burned in her eyes, softening to a look of utter relief.

She gave a tearful laugh and smothered him in her arms, kissing his face. “I love you. I love you. I love you.”

He attempted to rise, but she held him cradled in her lap, kissing his cheek, his forehead, even his nose. Zevander smiled and wrapped his arms around her, yanking her across his body as he sat forward, holding her in his arms.

“I thought I lost you.” Her brows tightened as she ran her thumb over his bottom lip. “I was certain she was going to keep you.”

He’d have told her that not even death could come between them, but his mind was too hung up on checking her over, scanning over her face and arms and legs in what little light they had.

“I’m okay,” she said. “I’m not hurt.”

Still, he kept on, lifting her arms and sifting through long locks of hair with his frantic search for the slightest bruise or injury. At her throat, he found a small cut marked by dried blood, and his brows tightened.

“I asked you to do it,” she said. “You consumed my blood.”

Gods, what had he done that she’d resorted to such a thing? He couldn’t stop staring at the wound left behind and the bruising around it where he must’ve drawn out her blood.

“Zevander, truly.” She gripped his wrist, and he froze. “We have to get out of here. Is there any chance you know your way?”

“No, but we need to find an exit before I burn this fucking tree to the ground.” An idle threat given that his first priority was getting Maevyth safely across that Umbravale without waking a slumbering god in the process.

From the moment he’d first discovered the tree in the woods, he’d felt a presence of something cold.

Ancient. Destructive. A power that led him to believe it must’ve harbored Pestilios for centuries.

He hadn’t sensed Cadavros since he’d awakened to Maevyth, though, but if Zevander had died in those moments, it was possible Cadavros had perished alongside him. Which meant Dorjan would’ve perished too, breaking the spell.

“We might’ve awakened a god with your antics,” he said.

“Antics? While it’s true you didn’t harm me, you certainly looked eager a moment ago.”

Zevander winced at that. “I’d like to think a small part of me would’ve recognized you, but I can’t recall anything after I stepped inside this damned tree.

” He pushed to his feet, stumbling a step.

With her hand in his, he led her through what felt like an endless maze of roots, nothing discernible to indicate he was headed in the right direction.

A familiar figure hobbled toward them, and he felt Maevyth’s fingers curl into his arm.

Kazhimyr.

Zevander’s guards went up, as he stared back at his friend, studying him for any sign of trickery or illusion. After all, how convenient that his friend appeared right then—in the heart of a rotting tree in the mortal lands.

“Fucking hell, don’t stare back at me like that.

I’m on the verge of tearing my eyeballs out, trying to decide what’s real or not,” Kazhimyr groaned and held up Zevander’s Venetox sword.

“We found this in the woods. Followed the sounds of a massive bird dragon that somehow told me you were in here. I feel like I’m losing my mind. ”

“If that didn’t make complete sense to me, I’d probably think you’d lost your mind, too.”

Kazhimyr snorted and handed over Zevander’s sword. A slight smile pulled at his lips, and he gave Zevander a pat on the arm. “You look like shit, by the way. Like you crawled back from death.”

Zevander glanced over his shoulder to see Maevyth’s lips flatten. He’d have laughed at his friend’s comment, but his mind was too wrapped up in getting the hell out of that tree.

Kazhimyr squeezed Zevander’s bicep. “Gods alive, it’s good to see you again, though. When Dolion told me you’d gone to the mortal lands, I wasn’t sure if I’d set eyes on your ugly mug again.”

“Dolion sent you?” The thought eased the tension in Zevander’s muscles.

“Yeah. Had a vision you might be in some shit.” Kazhimyr glanced around the strange cave. “Seems he was right.”

“Cadavros might be dead. We need to get out of here. Back through the Umbravale, assuming it’s still standing.”

“I know the way out.” Kazhimyr jerked his head. “Come with me.”

Zevander frowned. “You’re familiar with this tree?”

“I stepped through a door just a short distance off.”

“A door.” Still, Zevander’s senses flared, but what choice did he have? They didn’t have time to wander in circles.

Reluctantly, he followed after Kazhimyr, through creeping passages, where the roots seemed to shift around them as they went. They finally arrived at a wooden door, just as Kazhimyr had said.

Kazhimyr slowed his steps and paused, rolling his shoulders back.

“Everything okay?” Zevander asked.

“Yes, of course.” He tipped his head staring back at the door. “Just felt a strange sense that I’ve been here before.”

Brows pulling together, Zevander tugged Maevyth close. “You did say that you stepped through this door.”

“Yeah.” His voice trembled as if he were lost in thought.

“Come on.” Kazhimyr took the lead and opened the door.

On the other side, was a vast cavern filled with webs that looked vaguely familiar.

The sounds of shouts echoed from ahead and Kazhimyr rushed toward them.

“Ravezio and Dravien! I lost them earlier!” he shouted over his shoulder.

“Dravien?” Zevander asked. A face flickered through his thoughts—green hair, Elvyniran. “Nockvayne?”

“You know him?” Maevyth asked from behind.

Zevander’s jaw tightened. “Years ago.”

“It’s a long story.” Kazhimyr hastened his strides, swinging his sword at the overhanging webs that reached down from the ceiling. “He helped us get here.”

They finally came upon a stretch of webs where two bodies squirmed and wriggled, caught in the sticky strands. A spider loomed over Ravezio, its fangs bared, poised to bite him, as he spat blood at the creature.

Zevander shifted Maevyth behind him and sent a blast of flames against the creature’s flank. It hissed and shriveled away, its body burning into a charred husk.

“Thank gods they can be killed,” she said at his back.

“Seven fucking hells am I glad to see your pretty face.” Ravezio chuckled, as Zevander burned the webs around him, careful not to singe his friend.

Ravezio dropped to the ground while Kazhimyr worked to cut Dravien loose with his blade.

Zevander glared back at the Elvyniran who watched him, undoubtedly recognizing him, too. The sound of Vaelora’s screams echoed in his head and he clenched his fist around the sword still captured in his palm, biting back the urge to lop his head clean off.

Dravien’s boots hit the ground, and the cavern shuddered with a shriek so loud, the webs swayed overhead.

Zevander turned toward a spider, its leg span on par with Raivox’s wingspan, inching its way down the web.

He backed away slowly, taking in the size of the damned thing.

“What the hell is moving across its back?” Ravezio asked, holding a blade outstretched.

Hundreds of spiders spilled from the larger one’s back onto the web, their bodies a cross between human limbs and carapace.

“Go! Now!” Zevander shouted, spinning on his heel. He hoisted Maevyth over his shoulder and dashed after Ravezio and Dravien toward a staircase ahead. Kazhimyr followed after him, pausing to send a frigid mist over the pursuing creatures.

“Come on!” Zevander ordered, taking two stairs at a time.

They breached the entrance of the tree and Zevander ground to a halt, waiting for Kazhimyr.

Maevyth tapped at his back. “You can put me down! I’m okay to walk.”

Reluctantly, he lowered her to her feet, his eyes anchored on that hole.

Seconds ticked by and Zevander’s patience grew thin.

“Where is he?” Ravezio asked, shifting on his feet, his weapon at the ready.

Kazhimyr’s silvery hair emerged through the cavity as he crawled out of the tree. “Run!”

Behind him, a horde of spiders poured out of the trunk after them, some with human faces and limbs.

A distant roar echoed from ahead.

“Raivox!” Maevyth dashed toward the sound.

“Maevyth! Wait!” Zevander shouted after her, leaping over tree limbs and decayed foliage with his sword ready to strike.

The monstrous spiders chased after them, pouncing out of the trees.

In his periphery, Zevander caught a glimpse of Dravien racing toward him, his sword drawn. The Elvyniran leapt into the air, as if he might tackle Zevander to the ground.

Zevander lifted his sword to strike first.

“Watch your head!” The Elvyniran swung out and as black ooze rained down on Zevander, he slowed his paces just enough to glimpse one of the spiders twitching on the ground behind him.

With a quick exchange of nods, both men fell back into a sprint through the trees, chasing after Maevyth.

Another roar from the Corvugon and Maevyth flanked left, hustling through a thick copse of woods where she skidded to a halt. A mass of webs stretched through the trees overhead and within them, Raivox hung, captured, his outstretched wings tangled in the strands.

“Raivox!” Maevyth screamed, assessing him from beneath.

Zevander twisted around, sword at the ready, as he scanned the trees for the chasing spiders.

No sign of them.

As if they’d scampered off at some point.

“The hell size spider do you think made that web?” Dravien’s question had Zevander swinging back around, watching as the Elvyniran stepped cautiously toward it, examining the fine gossamer threads.

Maevyth lurched toward the Corvugon, but Zevander gripped her shoulder.

“Wait.” He pointed upward, toward the dark canopy overhead where what looked to be hundreds of eyes glowed.

Raivox roared and hissed and Zevander could feel the tight clench of Maevyth’s muscles in his grasp.

“Help him. Please!”

“Watch for the spiders,” Zevander said to Kazhimyr and Ravezio behind him and both Letalisz drew their swords, watching the woods at his back.

Zevander raised his palm and sent a blast of flame over the web, careful not to get too close to Raivox’s wings.

The Corvugon roared and hissed, its tail tangling in the thick, sticky strands, the more it moved. The scales on his chest looked to have been melted, burned away by something, where a raw patch of glistening skin peeked through.

“Something’s moving overhead!” Dravien shouted, pointing toward a twitching leg that stepped below the dark canopy. “Damn thing must be massive.”

Zevander focused, setting one of the wings free, leaving the bird dangling by its other wing, cawing and flapping.

“Something’s coming!” Kazhimyr warned from behind. “I can hear them!”

In Zevander’s periphery, Dravien stepped back, his sword held out. “Fucking hell.” Fear trembled in his voice. “That thing is massive.”

Zevander didn’t bother to look but kept his focus on the Corvugon. Looking would undoubtedly sway him to walk away, and as much as he loathed the shit tosser, he wouldn’t hurt Maevyth by abandoning him.

“We have to go, Zevander!” Kazhimyr backed himself toward the group, tightening the circle. “They’re getting closer.”

Jaw tight, Zevander forced the flames around the other wing, as a colossal shadow stepped into his periphery.

“Let’s go!” Dravien growled. “Unless you want to become spider food!” He spun around and dashed into the woods.

The bird dragon finally dropped to the ground, flapping and cawing, the residual webs still clinging to its body.

He lashed out with his tail, just missing Zevander and Maevyth as it swung wide.

A spider roughly the size of Raivox pounced on him and the Corvugon let out a hiss, his talons scratching over the carapace.

Zevander shot a blast of flames toward the monstrous arachnid, watching them lick over the shiny exoskeleton that seemed completely unaffected by the black fire. Dread settled over him and he threw out his palm again, watching with unsettling focus as it fizzled across the carapace.

Maevyth lunged toward Raivox, but Zevander gripped her arm.

“We have to go!”

“I can’t just leave him!” she cried out, her arm outstretched toward the creature.

Raivox let out a roar and a blast of silver sprayed across the broad side of the spider. The arachnid twitched and hissed, scampering off the Corvugon.

“He’ll be fine. He can protect himself.”

The patter of footsteps and crunching vegetation echoed through the forest around them.

Kazhimyr sent out a blast of white mist and as the shadow of a horde moved in closer, he and Ravezio spun around, darting in the other direction. “Move! Now!”

“Let’s go!” With a yank of Maevyth’s arm, Zevander led her away from the Corvugon and deeper into the woods.