I stretch my wings a little, stabbing pain coursing through me like lightning. Another huff, more sparks. I’ll be fine, but it’s going to take time. There’s no treasure here, nothing to speed up the healing process. I can’t change into my smaller form—that would only take up more energy. And though the terrain looks barren, I know all too well what lies in wait in these rocks. The dreadspiders haven’t awakened yet for the night, but all the noise and the tang of blood will certainly have them clamoring to move aboveground.
We need to get out of here before that happens. I’ll survive it, but Larellin won’t stand a chance. There’s only one way this can work, but I don’t know if she’ll agree to it.
I turn my head and slide it along the shelf where she’s standing.
She scrambles back but soon realizes there’s nowhere to go. Trembling, she holds out her hands as if to ward me off.
Slowly, so slowly, I inch closer. Her heart is galloping, the sound like a vicious drum as I approach. When my nose is almost close enough to touch her, I stop and turn my head to the side the slightest bit.
She doesn’t move.
Beneath the drum of her heart, I hear something else. Scratching. The sound of hundreds of feet moving against rock. The dreadspiders. They’re coming.
I nudge her.
She screams.
The scratching increases. Manic now, the monsters hungry for a meal.
Fuck.
I back away, then lower my head. She has to take the hint and climb on. If she doesn’t … No, I can’t think about that. Instead, I focus on her, my thoughts hazed with pain and urgency. “Climb on. Climb on, now, or you’re going todie.”
Not a hundred feet away, I see dark shapes rising along the edge of a rift. Spiders scrambling over each other, racing right for us.
“Pet, now!” My thought is punctuated with a growl, the rumble of it sending some rocks tumbling around us.
The slightest hint of relief hits me when I feel her, light as the breeze, climbing onto the top of my snout. I catch her in my gaze, my eyes on her as she moves along to the top of my head. Once she’s there, she stops.
I need her to keep going, to settle between my shoulders. It’s the only chance she’ll have to hold on. At least, I think it is. I’ve never let anyone do this. The shame of it would be far too much to bear. But, somehow, this is different. I feel no shame at her touch, at the feeling of her astride me. If anything, it feels—a sting at the edge of my wing draws my attention. A particularly large spider has latched on, it’s maw of needles working at the edges of my tattered flesh.
With a rough flick, I fling it off. It squelches as it slams against rock, its brethren jumping on it and tearing it apart for an easy meal. More are coming, though, their eyes glinting in the light of the moons.
We can’t wait any longer. As gently as I can, I lift my head. Farther and farther until she yelps and tries to hang on. But I keep going until she’s forced to let go, even as I feel more spiders biting into my torn flesh and climbing along my talons and legs. More and more stings, needle teeth and venom. When I feel her land on my back, I will her to hold on.
Turning my head, I let out a torrent of fire, frying the nearest spiders though several crouched low behind boulders to avoid the flames. Then, with a hard flap of my tattered wings, I launch into the sky.
Larellin screams, and I pray to all the gods still living to help her hold on. Another strong flap sends us higher, spiders falling from my wings and legs and splatting on the stone below. One more hard flap, pain roaring through me like lava, I’m clear enough to change direction and lift more steadily. Reading the winds like a language, I maneuver through the sky, rising more gently and using less wing strength. Turning and swirling, I ride the currents until I see the cave ahead. Larellin is still clinging to me. I feel her warmth, the faint press of her body to my scales.
I glide into the cave slowly.
When my one good talon touches the ground, Larellin screams. This one sounds different. Itfeelsdifferent.
She screams again as I land in a pile of treasure, the coins flying out like a wave of water. As soon as I hit, I roll to my side and give Larellin the best chance of landing safely. Then I change, my form splintering and twisting, the magic weaving me from one being into another. As soon as it’s done, I see the spider, its vicious maw clamped onto Larellin’s leg as she kicks at it. I run to her and with a roar, I jam my fist through its head. It’s ichor splatters as I twist and yank its tiny brain out, then grab its body and fling it away.
Kneeling, I grab its maw, still attached to Larellin’s leg, and prize it apart. Blood, so much blood. Larellin isn’t screaming any longer, her face gone white. She stares up at me, her eyes wide.
There’s no time. The spider poison is only an annoyance to me, but to a mortal, it could be fatal.
Scooping her into my arms, I unfurl my damaged wings and take off at a run. We take flight, and I dive into the nearest open cavern, skirting the black walls as I clutch her to my chest.
By the time I make it to the Firefolk in the kitchen, Larellin’s heart is beating sluggishly.
“Lenka!” I bellow. “Sprite! Kanlon!”
I swipe the pots off the long kitchen table and lay Larellin down. Her eyes are closed, her breathing labored.
Lenka appears at my elbow, her hands already moving to Larellin’s wound. “What got her?”
