Which left me two others. I studied them silently for a few more minutes and eventually walked toward the smaller of the two, simply because the pulse of the earth seemed stronger down there. The stone underfoot was slimy, and the air drifting out of the tunnel reminded me somewhat of the stench that had come from a tanning factory we’d passed in Spain when Mia, Ginny, and I had holidayed there a few years ago.
I reached the dark barrier and stopped. It didn’t react to my closeness, but given I had no idea what the spell was designed to do, that didn’t mean anything. Its construction had some similarities to the entry-refusal spell Mia sometimes used when she didn’t want her parents walking into her room uninvited, but there were lots of other lines of magic woven through this spell that bore absolutely no resemblance to anything I’d ever seen.
I lifted a hand and carefully reached out. Once again there was no reaction from the barrier, and that was odd. I mean, why have it here if it wasn’t designed to stop anything?
Unless, of course, it was never intended to stop me leaving, but rather someone from entering. Someone like Mo, perhaps.
I hesitated and then finally touched the thing. The magic’s energy caressed my skin, thick, foul, and oddly oily. But it didn’t in any way stop me. I pushed my hand all the way through without harm or setting off an alarm.
Had it been designed to restrict entry, as I’d guessed? Or was it primed to react only when a certain percentage of flesh went through?
There was only one way to find out.
I sent a silent prayer for luck to any goddesses who might be listening and then stepped through.
The slick, foul magic moved around me and made my skin crawl, but little else happened. Of course, that didn’t mean alarms weren’t screaming somewhere else, but it was still weird given the power within … The thought died and I felt like slapping myself.
It couldn’t affect me because I was immune to magic. Whoever had created this spell was either unaware of that fact or had forgotten.
I stepped into the small tunnel, my nose wrinkling at the stench. The barrier’s purplish light leached just far enough in to reveal wet walls ribboned with slime. I eyed the deeper darkness and thought about shifting shape, but quickly dismissed the idea. While my blackbird’s night vision was similar to that of my human, there was no way known I could safely fly in utter darkness. At least in my human form I could use the slimy walls as a guide, however much the thought of running my fingers through the muck revolted me.
I forced my feet on. The water was thick and sludgy and certainly didn’t feel like storm water. It made me glad I couldn’t see exactly what was in it. I had a feeling it was better not to know.
After what seemed like hours later, a tiny flicker of light appeared in the darkness up ahead. It was too yellow to be daylight and too warm to be moonlight. I slowed fractionally and looked for a trap or an alarm but couldn’t see anything either physical or magical.
The earth gave no indication that anyone waited up ahead, but I couldn’t discount the possibility that the remoteness of the connection meant she simply wasn’t able to sense the weight of anyone or anything.
The light became one, then two, and then more, their numbers and their light growing stronger the closer I got. The darkness peeled away, highlighting the ribbons of slime that hung from the tunnel’s roof and the thick gray sludge that ran past my feet. There were chunks in that sludge, chunks that almost looked fleshy … Bile rose, and I swallowed heavily.
Don’t think, just concentrate on escaping …
It was a mantra that grew harder as several fingers drifted past.
The lights, it turned out, were actually foot-long threads that rotated lazily around a bigger, darker shape. I had no idea what the latter was—it wasn’t a light and it didn’t appear to hold any weight. It was amorphous and surreal, and its presence sent a cold chill down my spine.
My pace slowed even further. Every instinct I had said stepping into the same space as those things was a very bad idea, and yet, what other choice did I have? It was too late to go back and try the other tunnel. I had to push on.
But as I did, the whispers started. Horror surged and I froze. The whispers weren’t coming from the tunnel behind me, but rather from up ahead.
From the threads.
Oh god, no … I stepped back instinctively, only to catch my heel on something sharp. I flailed my arms in an effort to keep my balance but ended up on my butt in the foul water. A shockwave of pain reverberated up my spine, and I bit down on the gasp, hoping against hope the things ahead hadn’t heard the noise.
But as the water splashed around me, soaking my clothes with its stench, one of the threads paused and looked at the tunnel.
It was then I saw it had eyes. And teeth. Razor-sharp, saw-like teeth within a small circular mouth …
Lightning burned through my body, but it held little of its usual heat and threat. I swung the scabbard around and quickly drew Elysian. As her form solidified, a strange, blue-white light flickered down her fuller. She was ready for action.
I really wished I was.
As one, the threads turned and surged toward me. I raised Elysian high then thrust her, with all my might, into the stone.
The stone split and the earth responded. A fierce, bright wave of heat and power erupted from the blade, flooding the darkness as it rolled toward the threads. Their whispers turned into squeals, and they fled back toward that amorphous shape, only to be caught by the wave and turned molten. As their remains dripped to the floor and ate into the stone, the wave swept over the shape and completely encompassed it.
The resulting explosion wrenched my grip from Elysian’s hilt and sent me tumbling backward. I landed facedown half in, half out of the thick sludge, tasting death and god knew what else. My stomach rose, and this time there was no stopping it. I vomited until there was nothing left except dry heaves, then wiped my mouth and crawled back to my sword.
In the fading glow of the eruption, I spotted the cracks. They were spreading fast, finger-thick webs that motored along the tunnel’s floor and up the walls. Walls that were now moving, shifting, sending bits of dust and stone raining down.
This whole area was about to collapse …
I surged upright, pulled Elysian from the stone, and bolted into the area that had held the threads. It was another junction. I hesitated, my gaze darting between the two exit tunnels, not knowing which was the better option.
The decision was made for me when the roof of the tunnel to my right collapsed, sending a thick wave of dust and muck my way. I spun and went left, desperately trying to keep my balance on the wet and slimy stone. I gripped Elysian tightly with both hands, holding her in front of me, the light burning in her fuller washing away the darkness, allowing me to move faster than I otherwise would. Behind me, the trembling grew, the noise of the collapse a fast-approaching freight train. It would be the mother of all ironies to escape Winter’s clutches only to be caught by my own inability to control the powers that were now mine to call.
I raced on, my pulse beating so damn fast it felt like one long scream of terror. I had no idea where I was going or what lay ahead, and I didn’t care, as long as I escaped the collapse. The tunnel rose and curved away to the left, suggesting it was moving toward the surface. Rusting metal tracks appeared on the floor, and there were pockets of deeper darkness pressed into the walls. They weren’t tunnels but rather some sort of wait spaces. Maybe this tunnel had been part of a mine at some point … Out of the corner of my eye I caught the briefest glint of silver. I swore and twisted around, automatically raising Elysian to protect my body. Steel clashed against steel and sparks flew, reflecting brightly in the red eyes of a demon. I swore again and pushed Elysian down the demon’s blade, severing his fingers and partially slicing his arm. As the sword clattered to the floor, he snarled and lunged forward. I jumped back, shifted Elysian, and allowed the demon to impale himself. He died between one breath and another.