Page 68 of Demonic Affliction

The roots come off the wall all at once, thick red coils ripping free of the ice-rock and lashing out across the open air. They move faster than should be possible, and in the blink of an eye, they snatch up two of Vhalthor’s soldiers. There’s a scream, a chorus of cracks, and the demons vanish into the tangle.

"BACK!" Vhalthor screams, his eyes wide with fright. “Back to the tunnels!”

His soldiers wheel hard, and several collide in their desperation. They claw and scrabble over each other, terror gripping their minds and causing them to lose all sense.

Through the cloud of chaos, I can make out Vhalthor, his blade held high and teeth bared in a ferocious roar. Holding the line, he allows as many of his men as possible the chance to escape.

“Come on!” he roars, blade swinging wildly. He cuts through the first root in one stroke, and it recoils, spraying dark fluid across his chest. Another comes at him from behind, and he twists midair, catching it on the backswing. A third wraps his ankle and yanks him sideways, but it doesn’t faze him. He hacks it inches from his own foot, drops several feet, and beats his wings hard to recover.

He casts a glance over his shoulder as the last of his men retreat to the safety of the tunnel. Only then does he turn and flee as dozens of thick coils chase, brushing at his heels.

“Make room!” Dravik roars, causing the soldiers to scatter farther into the tunnel. Vhalthor flies through the opening, his momentum so powerful that he smashes into a wall several hundred feet back.

Amazingly, the roots stop at the entrance to the tunnel, as if some invisible barrier exists between the passage and cavern. They coil in the open air just beyond it, twisting, searching. Realizing their pursuit is pointless, they slowly withdraw back to the walls, curling up within the tangles like hungry vipers in the grass.

Some of Vhalthor's soldiers rush toward him, hands outstretched to help him up from where he landed. He brushes them away, waving them off before they can touch him. “I'm fine. I'm fine. It would take more than a few roots to take me out.”

He shoves himself upright, and I watch him bite back a wince. Fine, my ass.

A gnarly gash across his chest leaks thick rivulets of blood, and several other smaller injuries pepper his extremities, but he ignores them.

Shouldering past his men, he limps to the mouth of the tunnel, gazing out at the massive cavern. The roots have settled back against the walls, but I can still see them shifting, waiting to attack.

“Does anyone have any ideas on how to get to the pit?”

Silence.

Letting out a breath, I step to the edge, being careful not to come within striking distance of the roots. I look down, noticing a bare line of wall that circles the entire cavern, about two feet above the canopy line. Huh…

“We’ll have to jump down and travel through the forest.”

“Won’t the roots try to attack us down there?” Vhalthor demands.

“Perhaps… but I think just like the tunnel, they can’t actually go into the forest.” I point out the blank space above the canopy to him.

“Suppose you are wrong?” Vhalthor narrows his eyes, crossing his arms over his burly chest. “Suppose they can reach into the forest, and they are just choosing not to currently?”

I shrug my shoulders. “Even if they can, we will have a better chance of avoiding them with the cover of the trees instead of flying into open air.”

"Fine." Vhalthor’s lips thin as a wall of stone closes over his expression. I realize then he’s trying not to show his fear to his men. "I will go first."

Without waiting, Vhalthor steps off the ledge, wings tucked tight against his back, dropping like a stone rather than gliding out into the open.

Sensing his presence, the roots peel off the walls and chase him through hundreds of feet of open air. My hands curl into fists as I watch, praying to all the gods that my theory was correct.

Vhalthor crashes through the canopy, disappearing, and the roots stop dead a few feet above the treetops. They coil in the air, lashing out in anger when they realize they can go no farther.

My knees tremble. I let out a shaky breath, allowing my fists to relax.

“Okay,” I say. “Who’s next?”

Dutifully, Vhalthor’s soldiers step forward, their expressions twisting with fear and determination. They drop off the ledge in waves, narrowly dodging the lashing roots. Just like before, they are thwarted at that invisible line, and the soldiers fall beneath the safety of the canopy.

Dagny looks at her mates. Some silent conversation passes between the seven of them, then they jump and disappear into the trees just like everyone else.

Dravik pulls Willow tight against his chest, one arm locked under her, the other braced across her back. “Hold on to me, my heart. Do not let go.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Willow’s throat works around a swallow. “Let’s get this over with.”