Page 64 of Of Serpents and Ruins
But how could I leave him?
Another sob choked me.
He trapped kapi after kapi in his teeth, crushing them effortlessly in his jaws. Crimson blood swirled through the waters as the kapis' rageful, dying shrieks echoed off the stone and reverberated over the water. Brandt dove down again with another kapi in his jaws. He heaved above the waves, farther downstream. Three kapis clung to his back, and another ten trailed after him. He flung himself at the jagged cavern walls, shaking the stalagmites even more. The rock face crunched beneath him, crushing the life out of two of the kapis.
Ducking my chin, I hugged myself, cradling my bleeding arm.
Think, Stella. Think!
What good was I doing down here?
Nothing.
I couldn’t save him, not from the kapis and not from the curse.
He’d found the strength to push that curse back enough to give me a chance. Now, I had to find the strength to get out of here and trust that somehow he would survive while I found help and escaped.
It was the smart thing to do.
If I could get out, I could find Hord and the rest of Brandt’s warriors and send help. Perhaps they were already on their way down.
It was like resisting the pull of a powerful magnet while walking waist-deep in sludge. The entirety of my being fought me.
Wounded arm clutched to my chest, I willed myself forward as the frothing, bellowing rage in the churning river continued. I struggled into the dim light of the narrow passageways. None of it was familiar, and soon, the paths branched.
Which way?
Even when I closed my eyes and searched my impressions, nothing stirred. No one passage seemed better than the other. There weren’t any traces of light farther down nor hints of a fresh breeze. The scents of the river and all that blood as well as Brandt’s cologne still filled my nostrils as if the memory held me in its thrall.
No. Go back. Go back to him. Don’t leave him there.
I swallowed hard. My throat remained tight. What kind of seer was I if I couldn’t find my way out of a series of underground tunnels I had once known like the back of my hand?
Even if my instincts were trying to say something, the voice in my mind wouldn’t give me peace. It just kept going. I staggered toward the tunnel on my right, carried more by momentum than any sensation that it was correct.
Just go back.
He could die.
Do you want him to die?
He’ll die alone. Would you really do that to him?
My body swayed as I stopped at the edge of the passage before it split. My senses darkened.
Go back to him.
Go back now.
Run!
The air sliced through my lungs like icy blades. It burned its way through me. The mineral-rich scents of cave water, blood, and something electric reminded me how real this all was. His cologne had faded. The absence of smoky bergamot and leather seared through me, leaving a deeper rift of longing.
When I closed my eyes, his face flashed back into my mind. Those dark-ruby eyes. The fear of hurting me mixed up with the torment of the curse itself. And that curse had devoured him.
If he caught me here, he would tear me to shreds. When he woke from the haze of the curse, he would mourn me.
Even so, the urge intensified, digging into my consciousness.
