Page 56 of The Prince and His Stolen Throne

She paused and glared over her shoulder. “Oh, this should be good. Are you going to apologize for once? Or continue insulting me?” The long, loose curls of her golden hair brushed against the dark spot, agitating it into moving faster.

“I’ll apologize, but I’m too embarrassed to look you in the eye while I do it, so turn around.”

“Why should I—”

“If you want an apology, turn the fuck around.”

“You are the most annoying—” she fumed, but she turned around as instructed, still muttering to herself.

As I approached, I could see the shape better. The creature was as long as my palm and had countless tiny legs. Two large pincers clamped onto Angelica’s shirt, keeping it in place as it crawled up her back. Probably the only reason she hadn’t felt it yet was because of the loose fabric, so the creature wasn’t directly touching her.

I raised my stick to gently brush it aside, hoping it would choose to let go on its own.

“Well?” Angelica demanded, stamping her foot.

The rough motion sent the creature swaying back and forth, only hanging on by her hair. Angelica instinctively reached behind her to brush the feeling away.

I slapped her hand, then smacked the creature, sending it flying into the nearest tree.

“What is going on?” Angelica demanded, turning toward the movement. Her eyes widened when she finally spotted the creature.

I expected screams and panic. I just didn’t expect them to come from behind me.

I whipped around to find Fitz jumping up and down, batting at the hoard of leggy creatures crawling all over him. Several had disappeared beneath his brown waistcoat, turning into long, squirming bumps.

“Get them off, get them off, get them off!” Fitz managed to shed the waistcoat, flinging it toward me.

I ducked. “Stop thrashing around so I can—”

One disappeared down the collar of his shirt and his screams rose to a pitch shrill enough to shatter glass.

Maximus grabbed Fitz’s collar, ripping the fabric with one swift yank. Several of the creatures flew through the air, then scattered into the shadows. Two still clung to Fitz, one digging its legs into his skin, the other hanging on with its pincers.

While Maximus held Fitz still, I used the stick to dislodge them. Tiny dots of blood decorated Fitz’s pale skin.

I turned to check on Delilah, expecting her to be in a similar predicament.

She was crouched on all fours, tail flicking behind her. Wiggling her hips, she adjusted her position, then pounced, snatching up one of the creatures in her hand. It struggled in her grasp, legs thrashing wildly in the air, pincers working overtime. No matter what it did, it couldn’t attack her or escape.

She turned the creature around this way and that, tugging on both ends as she examined its head and belly.

“What is it?” I asked, eyeing the log as I slowly approached.

“A Black Burrow Centipede.”

“Yes, of course,” Fitz said, straightening his glasses. “They were probably under the log, rather than in it, which is why nothing came out when I kicked it.”

“Are they poisonous?” I asked.

“Venomous,” he corrected. “And yes, they are, although their size determines its effectiveness.” He pulled at the scraps of his shirt, exposing a bitemark, already swollen into a small, red lump. “I should befine.”

“How big do they get?”

“These are just little babies,” Delilah said, finally tossing aside the centipede she’d been tormenting. “According to the Chambord Scholar’s Association, the largest one on record was ten feet long.”

“Really?” I asked, nodding along. “Ten feet long? And these are babies? So, we probably disturbed a nest.”

“Yes, probably,” Fitz agreed, his tone absentminded as he poked at his wound. “Can someone get me a first aid kit?”