“Move faster, Olivia!” Roman’s strained voice sliced through the cacophony of hissing. “I can’t hold her much longer!”
Beads of sweat trickled down his face as he grappled with the thrashing Inland Taipan. Its powerful body shimmered under the flickering torchlight, a deadly masterpiece of nature. His arms trembled from the effort, the sheer force of the serpent testing even his formidable strength.
I drew a shuddering breath, lifting my eyes to the chalice. Its ancient metal glinted in the dim light, an ornate relic holding the weight of our salvation—or our doom. The ledge it rested on seemed impossibly far, an island amid an ocean of venom.
“Olivia! Now!” Roman’s voice, sharp with urgency, snapped me into action.
Determined, I scanned the pit for anything useful. My eyes landed on a King Cobra nest—a mound of sticks and debris tucked into a corner. Swallowing my fear, I moved toward it, praying the cobras wouldn’t stir. I pulled two sturdy sticks from the nest with swift, deliberate movements. My heart pounded, every sound amplified, every shadow a potential threat. I hurried to a nearby torch, igniting one branch. The flames roared to life, their crackling warmth starkly contrasted with the cold dread that clung to me. With the hem of my skirt, I fashioned a makeshift loop at the end of the second stick. My improvised tools would have to suffice.
Torch in hand, I brandished the fire at the serpents. They recoiled instinctively, their fear of the flames creating a narrow, fleeting path. Step by cautious step, I advanced toward the chalice. Every movement was deliberate, every muscle tense, my senses hyper-aware of the slightest flicker of danger.
“Olivia?” Roman’s voice was quieter now, laced with fatigue and edged with desperation. “Hurry.”
“I’m doing my best,” I snapped, more to calm my panic than out of irritation at him. I knew the stakes.
Reaching the wall, I propped my torch against it, illuminating the stone with its flickering glow. My first attempt to snag the chalice failed, the fabric loop slipping off the smooth surface. Heart pounding, I tried again, adjusting the angle, my fingers trembling with every passing second.
On the third try, the fabric loop caught hold. I eased the chalice from its resting place, the ancient metal gleaming as it descended, inch by precarious inch. My breath hitched as it finally rested safely in my hands.
“Got it,” I whispered, more to myself than Roman.
“Good,” he breathed out, relief mingled with urgency. “Now, come here. Quickly.”
Clutching the chalice tightly, I moved back along the narrow path I had cleared. The serpents slithered aside as if repelled by the relic I carried, their instinctive menace momentarily subdued. Reaching Roman’s side, I couldn’t help but notice the tremble in his hands, the sheen of sweat coating his skin as he wrestled with the Inland Taipan.
“Took you long enough,” he muttered, though the gratitude in his eyes betrayed the gruffness of his words.
“Can you extract venom?”
Roman’s question hit me like a slap, jolting me out of my momentary relief at securing the chalice.
“Sure, with the right tools,” I replied, my voice heavy with sarcasm, “but I’ve never done it in... these circumstances.” The sterile, controlled lab environment I’d trained in felt like a distant dream compared to this snake-infested nightmare.
“Okay, listen,” I said, forcing my voice to steady despite the pulse thrumming in my ears. “We position the snake’s head over the chalice like this.”
I demonstrated with my hands, hovering over the artifact.
“I’ve got fabric from my skirt—we’ll use that as a membrane.” My fingers fumbled as I adjusted the knots securing the cloth to the branch.
“Membrane?” Roman frowned but nodded, his grip on the thrashing snake unyielding.
I stretched the torn fabric over the chalice’s opening. “Then we coax the snake to bite down on it.”
The words felt infinitely easier than the action they demanded.
“Coax how?” he asked warily.
“Light pressure on the jaw or... tap its nose.”
“Tap its—” Roman blinked, incredulous.
“Yep, that’s what I said,” I shot back, though my hands trembled at the thought. “I hold the chalice; you handle the snake. Deal?”
“Deal,” he said after a brief pause. “But Olivia, you tap.”
“Great,” I muttered under my breath. “Snake charmer. Add that to the resume.”
Roman adjusted his grip on the writhing Inland Taipan while I crouched low, carefully placing the makeshift venom collector on the cool stone floor. Around us, the pit seethed with danger, the torchlight forming a fragile sanctuary against the writhing darkness.
