Page 12

Chapter Twelve

MAYA

D ozens, perhaps hundreds of bugs fill the tunnel, stepping into our meager light. They crawl across the ground and cling to the walls as they advance upon us. Dark, shiny bodies that glint menacingly at us. Thousands of legs, each one covered in spikes. Huge pincers open and close, snapping in our direction with clear intention.

They are going to eat us.

The beasts don’t hesitate. They rush towards us with one goal in mind: our deaths. They are incredibly fast, almost impossibly so.

I barely withhold my scream when one of the bugs flies directly at Volan, its translucent wings glittering. I didn’t even know they had wings!

Volan roars, stepping forward to meet it. In a move equally as fast as it’s surprising, he ducks to the side as the bug sails through the air past him. His arm slashes out, dagger sliding along its armored back with a metallic scraping sound. Its carapace appears to block his attack as effectively as armor.

My heart nearly explodes when the bug’s many spindly legs catch his arm. He doesn’t make a sound, but his expression quickly flashes to one of alarm and pain. With his free hand, he grabs hold of the bug, wrenching it from his skin. He tosses the creature away and it hits the rough stone wall with a crack.

I watch with fear clinging to my body as its legs frantically wave in the air. It opens its carapace, translucent wings emerging, as it attempts to right itself. I instinctively press myself closer to the wall. If he can’t kill these things with a dagger, what good is my slingshot and a few pebbles going to do?

I’m not the kind of chick that can just race into battle. I’m useless.

Volan barks out a growl, or perhaps a curse word that doesn’t translate, capturing my attention. My gaze spins back to him. Several bugs lie at his feet. While I’ve been focused on one in a complete daze, he’s been battling for his life.

He flicks his dagger toward another bug, and liquid flings from him with the movement. Dark, ooze-like. No! Horror engulfs me as I realize that it’s his blood. It coats his whole arm, flowing freely.

Volan stumbles backward as another bug slams into him, hooking its powerful legs into his trousers. Within moments it’s climbing him. Its pincers wrap around his upper thigh, squeezing.

“I will not be bested by a scamper!” he roars at the cockroach. He stabs at it, over and over again, as he glares furiously down at the beast.

Nothing slows him down. Even though he faces a horde of these disgusting, terrifying beasts, he doesn’t hesitate. He could outrun them, but he stays here for me.

He’s a warrior, ready to fight to the death.

For me.

It’s that chilling thought that strikes through me and makes me act.

I don’t go looking to start fights, but if I want to live through this quest I have to act. I can’t rely on others, not anymore. I have to do this. Wasn’t that the whole point of this quest—that I took personal control of my destiny? I have to fight for what I believe in for once, rather than run and hide.

I clench my teeth and raise my chin. I will do this.

The cockroaches surround Volan, no doubt trying to bring him down. He’s able to fight off the ones at his front, but so many of his enemies surround him that he can’t keep track of all. Each time he spins, or tries to stab at one with his dagger, the ones at his back also attack. They stab at him with the tips of their legs or try to capture his legs within their pincers.

The bugs haven’t noticed me. Yet. It’s only a matter of time. I won’t give them that opportunity.

My hands shake as I raise my slingshot in front of me. My knuckles are white as I clutch at it with bruising force. I’m shaking so bad that I can barely keep a grip on my slingshot. How am I even supposed to aim this thing?

I load the slingshot with a large pebble and pull the elastic back as far as my arm can drag it. I’ve only practiced on stationary targets, not moving ones, but I refuse to let myself dwell on that thought. Volan needs help. He needs me.

My fingers open, releasing the rock. I can’t see it fly through in the low light, but I know when I hit my mark. The cockroach tumbles backward, literally knocked off its many feet and slides across the ground on its back.

Volan doesn’t even hesitate to slam his booted foot down upon the creature.

One great thing about practicing so many times, testing this slingshot even though I’m not its intended user, is that I am really proficient at loading it. Within split moments I’ve grabbed another rock, loaded it, and pulling back to fire. I target another roach that’s trying to sneak up on Volan unaware. My attack hits its carapace, the rock itself splintering and sending shards in every direction. It knocks the creature back, though not off its feet. As it rounds upon me, I’m already launching another rock towards it. This time I hit it square in the face… well, right between its freaky pincers.

The creature squeals. A high-pitched whine fills the air, so loud that I almost drop my slingshot to cover my ears. I don’t. I can’t afford to drop my only weapon, despite discomfort. Look at Volan who’s covered in blood, yet still fighting.

I shoot another rock, and another. I lose count of how many. I just step forward, gathering ammo, before loosing it before I’ve even had a chance to fully stand.

I’m distantly aware of Volan laughing. Of cheering for me. No one’s ever cheered for me before. I’ve never actually stood up to anything or anyone before. Not like this.

I step forward, grinning, as the closest cockroach scampers backward. Oh, that’s why he called them ‘scampers’! It’s a fitting name. I’ll send them scampering back to where they came from, never to return.

I aim my shot, preparing to shoot the cockroach.

I’m suddenly lifted off my feet.

“You have won the battle, my little halvi,” Volan purrs into my ear. He pulls me flush against him, his arms wrapping around me securely. I cry out my frustration as I lose my shot, my aim going wide and missing the infuriating bug entirely.

“Put me down,” I weakly bat at his arms. It’s only as my fist comes away sticky that clarity begins to settle in. He’s hurt.

My stomach roils at the thought. Blood. So much blood, everywhere. And bug guts and…

“I think not,” he growls, hauling me closer. Suddenly the world is tipping around me. Volan throws me into the air—throws—before catching me in his arms bridal style.

I’d scream at him for manhandling me, but my lips are pressed tightly shut as I feel nausea rising.

“Do not fear, halvi. I will never drop you,” he tells me as if he suspects my silence is out of fear.

“You! Why you…” Anger at this infuriating male, at everything, rises within me. How dare he treat me this way! How dare he pick me up like I weigh nothing. How dare he carry me about like I’m…like I’m precious.

He’s hurt! He shouldn’t be carrying me. No, I should be checking his injuries and treating them. I should be…caring for him.

Blackness tinges my vision. Oh dear, I think I actually like this guy. It’s more than just attraction, I think I’ve genuinely caught feelings for him.

No. I have to tell him no.

I am in charge of my destiny. I can’t fall in love. I can’t do relationships, not again.

“Unless you’d rather wade through the corpses of your enemies,” he remarks.

The scent of blood and other unidentifiable smells hits my nostrils as I suck in a breath to tell him off. I groan. It’s all a bit too much.

I press my face against his chest. He’s warm, a little sticky from sweat. With my nose this closely smashed against his skin, all I can smell is him. He smells good. Perhaps a little too good.

I close my eyes, allowing my senses to be enveloped by him. Volan. I’m distantly aware of him carrying me somewhere, but for once I don’t care where. Anywhere but here. Exhaustion and dizziness weigh me down.

For once, I just want to trust someone else to take care of me, to put me first.

So I do. I trust him.