The Nozverak stood and turned back to Magnus and the others. Azolirum’s eyes skipped over Nadine and Samar in favor of Magnus as though he were the representative for this mission, instead of the tagalong he actually was. Magnus didn’t move from his cross-armed position. It was a good thing he’d come along. To say there was “little rapport” between the Ebronians and Nozverak was like saying ice didn’t make good tinder. At times, Magnus almost wished he hadn’t sent Erik away. If he got himself killed, this mission might not survive.
Magnus cocked his head. “Looks like fun.”
Azolirum flashed jagged fangs at Magnus and narrowed silver eyes in that unnerving version of a smile. “I hope you hairy-faced men aren’t afraid of heights without your scaly beasts between your legs.”
Magnus crept over to the edge of the cliff and peered into the abyss. He raised a brow before glancing over his shoulder at Azolirum. “I’ll settle for a horned, two-legged beast as my mount.”
Azolirum laughed in answer, accompanied by his companions Crann and Hezek. Like most of the Nozverak, they had long and complicated names, but neither objected to shorter styles. At least, not when Magnus used them. But then, it was a rare moment when anyone besides Magnus addressed the pair directly. They were as dangerous as their king, but only half as friendly. At least the leaner one, Crann, was willing to have an occasional conversation, though even these were limited to imparting useful information. It was obvious Azolirum had brought him along as a historian of sorts, or navigator.
The horde king approached and slapped Magnus so hard on the back he startled, afraid he was about to be knocked over the edge, but Azolirum held onto the neck of his shirt. “Give that face a few more days to heal from my handiwork, little man, and you might just be pretty enough for the likes of me.”
With another chuckle, Azolirum shook Magnus before letting him go. Magnus stumbled and had to catch himself. He pursed his lips at the gaping cavern below. “What’s at the bottom, anyway?”
“Certain death,” Azolirum said, fiddling with the gear that would help them rappel down the cliffside. “We’re not going to the bottom. Or if you are, it’ll be because you’re too stupid to hold on. So unless you want to crawl back out in pieces, I say don’t let go.”
Magnus glanced over at the Ebronians who were busy hooking themselves into their gear. They had brought harnesses specifically designed for this purpose, a type of belt that encased the hips and hooked along the ropes, allowing them to shimmy down with one hand free, should the need for combat arise. Magnus frowned at the thought. There was no sort of combat he could perform with only one hand, save for a simple hack and slash with a knife or the pounding of a single fist. Not his methods of choice. Of course, he’d seen Nadine and her company fight over the past days. They were far less limited. Even so, the idea of facing an attack while they descended the side of a cliff made uneasiness creep through his stomach.
He focused on Nadine, who was pulling the leather harness up the long length of her legs. Was she nervous? If so, he couldn’t tell. She always looked as she did now, especially of late. So calm and cool. So damned distant.
Azolirum cleared his throat loudly. The Ebronians turned their ears toward him but continued to work, always giving him only half their attention. “Before we descend, you should know: this crevice is a nest.”
Everyone went still. Nadine’s head popped up. “A nest?”
“That’s what I said, female.” Azolirum growled before turning his gaze to anyone else in the room.
The Ebronians exchanged somewhat nervous looks. Magnus asked the question on everyone’s minds. “A nest of what?”
Crann spoke, a white scar at his throat making his already gravelly voice scrape and rasp. “Arachnai. And they’re likely enthralled.”
Magnus’s stomach dropped. The arachnai were deadly. Hideous, half-humanoid creatures with a cunning intelligence and a conniving nature. Every Ebronian head turned toward Magnus for an explanation. Somehow, even in the company of creatures who’d spent their whole lives underground, Magnus’s word had become the most trusted since departing Bedmeg. Or at least, when it came to matters of the veligiri.
He grunted. “They’re like spiders. But bigger than a man. They’re blind, and they don’t hear overly well, but their sense of smell is uncanny. They’re venomous. A bite of their fangs or a pierce of their stingers will paralyze you so they can eat you alive in their dens.”
At that, Nadine’s head whipped back toward Azolirum. “This was the safer route you insisted on?”
Magnus’s eyes darted between Nadine and the Nozverak with their backs to the edge of the cliff. A sudden blaze of tension ignited between the two groups. Anger and mistrust was palpable between them, and even Magnus had to admit he couldn’t blame his hamma for the accusation dripping from her tongue like flecks of acid.
Azolirum stared her down. He turned his head slightly as though he weren’t quite sure what to make of her. “Safer, female. Did you imagine that any path in this world, which has destroyed my race, was actually safe?”
Nadine looked close to seething. “How are we supposed to get past them?”
“Quietly,” Crann said. “They sleep.”
“Won’t the light from our torches wake them?” Samar stepped forward, anger ratcheting his voice.
Magnus shook his head. “They have eyes but, trust me, they’re totally blind.”
Samar scowled at Magnus as if he were about as trustworthy as a rattling snake. Magnus bristled, and indignation stirred up within him. One of these days, he was going to toss that man from Yrsa’s talons.
“They barely hear, nozturel.” Crann flicked his horns at nothing. “So try to keep the terror from your shrill voice. So long as they don’t wake, they shouldn’t smell it leaking from your stinking flesh.”
Samar opened his mouth, but Nadine stopped him with a sideways glance. Magnus watched the exchange carefully, noting the way Samar seemed to forget Crann’s insult and immediately transfer his hostility toward Nadine. For all that his bride had been ignoring Magnus, she’d been avoiding Samar just as much. That realization might’ve comforted Magnus, except he knew she was in pain, and there was nothing he could do about it. Nothing she would let him do about it. It was maddening.
“You go first,” Nadine said, jutting her chin toward Azolirum.
The horde king smiled. “I’m always first.”
The three Nozverak didn’t bother with harnesses. True to his word, Azolirum took the lead and, with a proud smile that would put Magnus to shame, dropped out of sight. Magnus hurried to the edge to watch his horns disappear into shadows. The other Nozverak hurried down with him. They hadn’t bothered with torches. At Nadine’s order, the Ebronians wasted no time hooking the metal clasps of their harnesses onto the four ropes. Four of them carried torches, while the rest were designated to keep a weapon in hand, should the need arise. Magnus walked up to Nadine.
“I’ll go down the rope ahead of you.”
She looked up at him, and he reveled in the glorious moment before she looked away and gave a brief nod. “You would go first, wouldn’t you?”
Magnus’s brows drew together. “What’s that supposed to mean?”