Total pages in book: 179
Estimated words: 169943 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 850(@200wpm)___ 680(@250wpm)___ 566(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 169943 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 850(@200wpm)___ 680(@250wpm)___ 566(@300wpm)
Then Kipp points into the shadows at the far end of the massive chamber.
“There’s a door,” Lark calls out.
At the same time, Mereden shrieks and points in the opposite direction. “I just saw eyes!”
We all turn to where Mereden is pointing, and then I see them, too. Eyes, glowing red in the darkness. Something hisses and brushes past my skirts, and I bite back a scream, swinging my staff.
Ratlings.
“Friends, I think we’ve stumbled into a nest,” Mereden whispers.
FORTY
ASPETH
“To the door,” Lark barks out, pushing in front of me with her shield at hand. “You all go to the door and get it open. Kipp and I will protect you.”
“We’re roped together,” Mereden cries. “We have to stay together!”
“I’m opening my eyes,” Gwenna warns.
That makes me panic. We’re so close to finding whatever it is it’s pointing us to. “But the dowsing—”
“Fuck the dowsing,” she says, fumbling for her sword. “It’s no good if we’re dead!”
A ratling jumps toward us from out of the shadows, and I shriek, batting at it with my staff. The light in the room wobbles wildly, causing the others to yell out. “Sorry!” I blurt. “It’s on my weapon!”
“We need it to see!”
The ratlings swarm toward us. They’re smaller than I thought they would be, each one about a head shorter than Kipp, who comes to my thigh. But there are so many of them, and they’re aggressive. I can absolutely see why we need weapons training, now that we’ve run into the horrid little monsters. I try to keep my staff upright, flicking the butt of it at any ratling that gets near and kicking at them. Mereden has a shortened staff like I do, but she swings it fitfully, not connecting with anything. They circle around us in the midden heap that is the ruin, and Lark swings the shield outward, trying to bash anything that comes close.
“Door,” I croak out when one tries to climb my skirts. “We need to go through the door.”
“Hold the light steady,” Lark barks out at me. “Get the door open if you can. We’ll hold them off.”
“I’ve got your back,” Gwenna says, moving to stand behind me. “Do what you can, Aspeth.”
Me? I’m supposed to open the door? But I can’t use my weapon, so I suppose it does fall to me. I don’t argue, just rush forward up the three steps to the massive square door that fills the archway. It’s classic Prellian architecture and normally I would love to admire it except for the fact that it’s made of some sort of tarnished metal and has a ring and a weird contraption for the door lock made of swivels and golden stems encrusted with jewels. I’ve never seen its like before, and I fumble with it for too long before making a sound of frustration and pulling my knife free from my hip holster and jamming it into the works. I think I’ve just broken a priceless mechanism of some kind but I can’t find it in me to care.
I wedge it into the lock and tug on the door. It holds fast, and I scream in frustration.
Gwenna cries out as a ratling flings itself at her, and she jerks backward, the rest of us pressed together on the stairs falling together. “Kick it back!” Lark cries. “Kick all of them back!”
“Door!” Mereden pants. “Open the door!”
I jerk on the door again. “I’m trying! I’m trying!”
“Try harder!”
I groan in frustration, pulling on the door with all my might. It doesn’t budge. Frustrated, I slam my hands on the heavy doors.
They fall open. Inward.
Oh.
“Inside!” I yell at the others, grabbing Gwenna by the waist and hauling her with me. We tumble inward, and the ratlings surge after us. Kipp stabs one, the creature screeching and thrashing on the floor as another grabs the wounded one and drags it backward. The others jump on it, attacking and biting it, and Lark shield-bashes another, then kicks it down the steps. The other ratlings chase it—looking for easy pickings—and we slam the door shut.
It immediately shakes, the force of several ratling bodies flinging themselves against the door.
“Barricade,” I pant. “We need to barricade.”
Mereden immediately shoves her staff through the metal handles of the door, preventing them from pushing it open. I nod agreement, wrapping my belt around the handles to double the effect.
“That’ll stop them for a while,” Lark says, catching her breath. She’s still clutching her ribs, which is worrisome, but there’s nothing we can do about it right now. “We need to find a better place to hide out.”
“Where are we anyway?” Gwenna asks, wiping her brow. “Is this another wine cellar?”
I cast my light around, and my bad wrist sends a wave of pain up my arm. I ignore it, because there’s nothing to be done. This room isn’t a mess like the other one. It’s a smaller chamber with a low ceiling and looks like it’s been carved directly from stone. There’s a stone couch at the far end of the room, and several more short ones carved into the walls, all of them littered with long-rotted debris. I move toward the one at the back of the strange chamber and touch the decaying flowers across the bench. They turn to dust, and I wipe it away. As I do, I see the glyphs written across the slab and groan.