The delver, p.26
The Delver, page 26
Callie fought, screaming as her fingers raked over the cave floor, seeking purchase. She kicked her free leg desperately. Her boot connected with the snarling male’s face. Mandibles snapping at her, the spiritstrider’s hand reached higher, raking down her bloodied calf. She cried out, and more glistening blood spilled over the stone.
With a roar, Urkot charged forward, stomping a foreleg down on one of the spiritstrider’s extended arms. Bone crunched beneath the blow.
The spiritstrider hissed and snatched its arm back, but kept its other hand on Callie’s leg.
“She is mine!” Urkot pushed off with his rear and middle legs, driving the bent joint of his foreleg into the spiritstrider’s head.
The force knocked the other vrix away, claws tearing free of Callie’s leg. She screamed. The sound twisted Urkot’s already taut heartsthread. Clutching her wounded leg, she hurriedly rolled aside.
Urkot dropped his own crystal and leapt onto the spiritstrider. His weight bore down on the vrix, who thrashed and clawed at Urkot, but he felt no pain through his rage as he grabbed the vrix’s mandibles at their bases. Those pincers snapped the air impotently.
Growling, Urkot slammed the spiritstrider’s head against the floor.
The pale vrix’s struggles faltered. Urkot tightened his grip, and using all his strength, brought his foe’s head down again and again, feeling the heavy thumps of impact jolt up his arms and only pouring more power into every subsequent blow. Even when he heard the spiritstrider’s skull crack, he did not stop.
“Will not take my mate.”
Slam.
“Will not touch.”
Slam.
“She’s mine. Mine. Mine!”
Slam. Slam. Slam.
He halted only when a small sound broke through the red haze that had taken hold of him—a whimper from Callie.
“Fuck.” Urkot released the unmoving spiritstrider and shoved away from it, turning toward his mate.
She sat, trembling, with her wounded leg stretched before her, both hands clamped around her calf. Blood oozed between and around her fingers. Her breaths were harsh, taken and expelled through clenched teeth.
Urkot scrambled over to her, plucked a glowstone off the floor, and knelt with hands raised and fingers splayed, staring down at her injuries. With all the blood, it was difficult to tell just how many cuts she’d suffered, and their severity was impossible to guess, but they looked grave. His hearts ached seeing the damage that had been inflicted upon her. He knew even the gentlest touch would hurt her more.
But he also knew that a great deal of noise had been made during the struggle—noise that was very much out of the ordinary for these tunnels. Noise that would have traveled far.
He needed to hurry.
Urkot curled his fingers as a heaviness dragged down his insides. “Callie… I must tend you.”
Her teary gaze met his. He hated seeing that gleam in her eyes. It was filled with fear, agony, and understanding. Understanding that this ordeal was not yet finished.
Callie gave a shallow nod. “Hurry.”
Her nostrils flared as she loosened her hands and pried them away from her calf. Fresh blood flowed from her cuts. Moving as quickly and carefully as he could, Urkot drew out sticky silk and applied it to her wounds.
“Fuck,” Callie cried, and her following sounds were cut short as she bit down on her hand. Muscles tense and fingers raking the chamber floor, she squirmed, moaned, and heaved muffled cries that made her shoulders quake. Her every pained reaction, no matter how small, was like a new thorn stabbed into Urkot’s hearts.
His fingers were quickly slick with her blood. They’d never felt so clumsy. His large, rough hands were not made for such tasks.
If only Diego had been there to tend her properly.
Damn my eyes, if only I had protected her from this.
A sound from the tunnel stilled his hands and his hearts—a series of clicks echoing along the passageway.
His wide eyes met Callie’s. Then he hurriedly covered the rest of her wounds with silk, sealing them. It was enough to stop the bleeding for now.
His spinnerets spun a thin rope, which he quickly passed to his hands and began winding around her calf.
More clicks sounded from the tunnel, followed by harsh voices.
Fuck.
Rekosh’s silken words wouldn’t have been any help now, but his deft fingers certainly would’ve been welcome.
After wrapping the silk snugly around Callie’s leg, Urkot tied it in place, hoping the hasty work would hold, and rose, lifting her onto her feet.
Callie hissed and stood with her injured leg bent, keeping weight off it, as he stooped and helped her climb onto his hindquarters. She clung to him with both arms and one leg. Urkot moved immediately to the entryway.
Legs scraped and tapped against stone somewhere not far off. The sound’s disjointed rhythm suggested several vrix striding together. He laid his lower arm atop both of Callie’s, which were banded around his middle, and stepped into the tunnel.
The air current flowed over his hide and through his fine hairs, carrying that hint of the Tangle’s smell.
He cursed when he realized what else it would carry—his and Callie’s scents, straight to the spiritstriders now approaching. And the scent of her blood was most potent of all.
Just as Urkot quickened his pace, one of the spiritstriders let out an unnerving shriek, and frenzied movement echoed along the tunnel.
Hearts thundering, Urkot ran. His legs came down heavily, jostling Callie, who held on tightly. The sounds of pursuing vrix grew louder and clearer.
He offered prayers to all the Eight, asking each for guidance and protection, asking them to see his mate through this alive and well. But in truth, he knew he could rely only upon himself to protect her. There’d be no help down here, not even from the Delver.
Urkot rounded a bend in the tunnel, slapping his hands against the wall to prevent himself from careening into it with his momentum. He pushed himself off it, running harder, faster, his chest constricted and lungs burning.
But the sounds behind him drew nearer and nearer.
The tunnel took another turn, which Urkot stumbled around, before opening into a large cavern.
“Shaper, unmake me,” he rasped, skidding to a halt just before he would’ve plummeted over an abrupt drop off that ended the path.
A few loose pebbles tumbled over the edge and clattered down, drawing his attention along with them. The bottom was barely more than a segment below him, but had he gone over unaware at that speed, it may well have resulted in an injury.
Bones and rocks littered the cave floor, lying amidst a layer of dirt. After the initial drop, the ground sloped upward at an increasingly steep angle, the stone worn in a way indicating frequent traversal.
“Urkot, look,” Callie whispered, pointing up over his shoulder.
He swung his gaze in the direction she’d gestured. At the very top of the slope stood another opening, a cave mouth, through which came a glow unlike any he’d seen since entering the mine with the thornskulls a lifetime ago. It seemed impossible in its brightness, its clarity, its warmth, and yet he knew it was very, very real.
Daylight.
Callie slipped her arm back around him. “We made it.”
As though in disagreement, a spiritstrider called out a single, harsh word from the tunnel behind them. “Taviik’ven!”
It sounded very much like tavit’ven—the vrix command to hunt.
Numerous hisses, clicks, and growls sounded in response.
After everything Urkot and Callie had endured together, after everything they had shared, their journey would not end here, would not end now. Not when sunlight was finally in sight.
“Hold tight,” he growled.
He leapt down from the ledge, landing hard on the cave floor. Bones and pebbles scattered. A few of his legs slipped on loose rubble, and he adjusted his weight, throwing his right arms to the side to regain his balance.
Callie squeezed him as he pushed on. Even with six legs, the scree was difficult to cross, constantly shifting beneath him.
The sound of legs scrabbling over stone behind him marked the spiritstriders’ entry into the cavern. Their voices rose in a frenzy; they were a pack of predators certain that they had cornered their prey.
Clenching his jaw, Urkot threw himself forward.
CHAPTER 27
As Urkot reached the incline, Callie made a grave mistake. She looked backward.
Her heart lodged in her throat, and her fingers dug into the hide of Urkot’s abdomen.
Not a single ray of sunshine from above reached this far down, but the diffused light was enough to allow her to see the spiritstriders clearly. She counted six pale monsters rushing down the short drop and gliding over the debris, which had given Urkot so much trouble, like phantoms unimpeded by the corporeal world.
And they were gaining. Fast.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
She faced forward, uncertain of whether she’d thought those words or muttered them under her breath.
Muscles straining, Urkot raced up the slope, leaning forward and using his hands to climb as the path grew steeper.
Behind them, the spiritstriders had finally ceased their terrifying clicking. But it was no comfort to Callie.
Her heart raced, her breath was ragged, her left calf throbbed with a deep ache, and her stomach flipped and churned. Even holding so tightly to Urkot, she was trembling.
Adrenaline was likely the only thing keeping agony at bay, the only thing keeping her conscious and functioning. Well, that and sheer terror, but the two were closely related.
Callie looked up. They were so close to the freedom they’d sought, so close to escape. Fate wouldn’t be so cruel, couldn’t be…
And if it was, it could go fuck itself. She and Urkot would make their own damn fate.
Stone scraped beneath Urkot’s claws and legs as he scrambled higher, half crawling. The opening was getting closer.
Suddenly, he pitched forward, coming down hard on his arms with a grunt and jolting Callie. She gasped, finding herself practically lying on his back, her pack heavy on her shoulders.
Something had snagged him.
She looked back again.
A spiritstrider held one of Urkot’s hind legs, its claws buried in his hide. The pale vrix opened its mouth, spread its pincers wide, and snarled, its beady black eyes looking directly at Callie.
Oh, God.
The spiritstrider’s companions raced up just behind it, clacking their pincers and growling like ravenous beasts.
Dragging himself onward, Urkot shook and kicked his leg. He dragged the spiritstrider along with him despite its struggles. But Urkot’s pace had definitely slowed.
Rocks tumbled down the slope, their clatter echoing through the cavern.
Another spiritstrider vaulted over the first, launching itself at Callie. She cried out and ducked her face against Urkot’s back. A heavy weight came down on her bag and yanked back on it. Her shoulders strained as she clutched Urkot’s middle, battling that frighteningly powerful pull.
She had to get the bag off. Had to, or she’d be ripped right off her mate to become the spiritstriders’ next meal.
Urkot snarled and bucked his hindquarters, but he could not dislodge the unwanted passengers. Callie felt the pull on her bag strengthening. She squeezed her legs around Urkot’s waist, gritting her teeth against the fresh, hot wave of agony in her calf. Her grip would not last long.
“My bag, Urkot!”
His lower arm clamped down on her legs, his big hand closing on her left ankle. “Have you, nyleea.”
That grip was crushing, painful, unbreakable, and she trusted it—trusted him—more than anything else in all the universe.
Callie released her hold on him with one arm. She was immediately jerked backward, her right shoulder on the verge of dislocating from the strain. With a pained cry, she fought her left arm free of the bag’s strap. The increased pressure on her right arm broke her hold on Urkot’s middle. Her torso tipped backward hard, aided by the steepness of the slope, and her arms flew over her head.
The remaining strap abruptly slipped off as her back slammed atop Urkot’s hindquarters, and she found herself in an inverted world, staring downslope at the pursuing spiritstriders.
The vrix that had latched onto her bag growled as it fell away, tumbling over the spiritstrider holding Urkot’s leg and knocking it loose. The two rolled down the slope. Only Callie’s legs—and Urkot’s iron grip on them—kept her in place.
Free of the excess weight, Urkot lurched forward. Several spiritstriders rushed up the slope just behind him as the two that had fallen struggled to right themselves. More were farther down, crawling up with alarming speed.
Callie’s eyes widened. There were too many spiritstriders, and they were too fast. Another delay, even a small one, and…
“Callie!” Urkot’s grip on her ankle tightened. “Are you hurt?”
“I’m fine,” she grated. “Relatively…”
She growled through clenched teeth as she sat up, her abs burning with the extreme exertion.
Would it kill you to do a few crunches every now and then, Callie?
As soon as she was high enough, she wrapped her arms around Urkot again, sliding her hands down to his pouch. She reached in and felt around until she found the collapsed lantern. Pulling it out, she switched to a one-armed hold, drew the lantern to her, and snapped it open with a sharp flick of her wrist.
Please work. Please, fucking work…
She switched the lantern on. She slitted her eyes against the intense white light and twisted, thrusting the lantern toward the vrix chasing them.
Callie saw unsettling spiritstrider faces and gaunt, bony bodies, saw the nearest of them recoil from the sudden light while the others hesitated, hissing and snarling. One turned away with such abruptness that it lost its footing and slid at least ten feet down the slope.
For once, Urkot gained some distance on their pursuers. She faced forward to find the cavern’s opening directly ahead, blindingly brilliant compared to the lantern’s glow. Urkot darted through it.
Callie closed her eyes against the glare. Her eyelids glowed red, and sunshine, deliciously scalding, baked down on her skin. With her next breath, the jungle’s scent filled her lungs—rich, cloying, complex, verdant. Nothing had ever smelled so good.
Nothing apart from her mate, anyway.
“We made it!” she breathed. “We fucking made it!”
They’d reached the surface, had accomplished what had seemed impossible.
But all the warmth and joy flooding Callie was snuffed out by the inhuman, rage-filled screeches of spiritstriders behind her, amplified by the cave’s mouth.
She opened her eyes as Urkot spun to face the cave. His lower hand caught her arm and pulled her down from his hindquarters, setting her on her feet.
Pain shot through her leg, and Callie hissed as she stumbled, but his hold on her prevented her from falling. “Urkot, what are—”
He pressed something into her hand, something heavy, and guided her back with a leg.
She staggered backward, fresh pain searing her calf, and stared down at what he’d handed her—his hammer, with its short haft and its worn, blunt stone head.
Callie closed her fingers around the grip and lifted her gaze.
A large, pale form leapt out of the cave. Urkot swung his right arms, slamming them into the spiritstrider while it was in midair and batting it aside. It crashed into the cliffside from which the cave opened and fell to the ground, stunned.
Another pale vrix charged out into the light, and another. Urkot’s left arm hooked around one’s throat, catching it in a headlock, pinning its mandibles to the sides of its face. The other spiritstrider scrambled over his hindquarters, clawing his hide, huffing the air in search of a scent.
Its head snapped toward Callie. The vrix reached for her, blindly flailing its arms.
Growling, Urkot grabbed the spiritstrider’s stringy hair, yanking its head back. Despite restraining two thrashing males, Urkot’s legs barely budged. He looked more solid than ever.
Her rock.
The spiritstrider he held by the hair spun toward him. Its sudden change of direction finally disrupted Urkot’s balance, and it took advantage by lunging for his throat. Urkot’s muscles bulged beneath his hide as he fought to hold the spiritstrider’s head back while its mandibles snapped the air mere inches from his face.
“No!” Callie rushed forward without thinking. As she planted her left foot, she felt warm blood trickling down her leg and a deep burn beneath the silk enwrapping it, but she was already committed, swinging the hammer in a downward chop with all her might.
The stone tool struck the spiritstrider’s skull with a dull thud. The impact made the hammer bounce, breaking her hold on it, and it fell to the ground even as the vrix’s legs buckled.
Urkot tugged on the spiritstrider’s hair again, forcing its head back. As Callie stumbled and fell back onto her ass, Urkot hammered a fist into the spiritstrider’s exposed throat thrice in quick succession. Something crunched on the third blow.
He shoved the limp spiritstrider aside. It collapsed in a heap partly inside the cave mouth. The vrix he held in a headlock was clawing at his arm, making choked sounds. But more movement from the cave meant more spiritstriders about to join the fray.
Callie could only watch, feeling immensely small and helpless, as Urkot punched his foe until the spiritstrider’s struggles ceased and its only movements were its involuntary twitches with each heavy blow.
Effortlessly, Urkot hefted the vrix over his head. Powerful muscles flexed in his broad back and shoulders. In that moment, he looked bigger and more fearsome than even the massive yatins—beasts that made elephants seem petite—that had once attacked their tribe.
And despite everything, despite her pain and fear, it was not lost on Callie just how fucking hot he was.
