Page 12 of Wicked Prince of Shadows
The ground beneath my feet shifted. I stumbled, my arms flailing as I struggled to catch myself. A massive centipede, its segmented body thick as my torso, reared up from a fissure in front of me, mandibles clicking furiously. Its hundreds of legs wriggled in the air as it lunged toward me and the first deathbeak pulled back as if in shock. It cocked its head as it clacked its heavy beak open and shut.
“Get the hell away from me!” I screamed as the centipede chased after me. I veered sharply to the right, my feet slipping on loose stones. The centipede's body twisted after me, but a broad-winged shadow passed over me. The second deathbeak.
I lunged toward a pile of rubble. A heavycrack! CRUNCH!shook the ground behind me. The impact sent shock waves through the ground, throwing me off balance even more. I rolled across the jagged earth, pain lancing through my shoulder and hip as sharp stones tore at my skin.
The centipede writhed beneath the deathbeak's talons, its segmented body thrashing violently. The enormous bird drove its beak down, piercing the centipede's armored shell with a sickening crunch. Ichor sprayed across the cracked ground as the two creatures struggled, the first deathbeak drawing closer with hungry curiosity.
I scrambled to my feet, my torn dress dragging in the dirt. The forest was so close now—maybe fifty feet away. The deathbeaks were distracted, one feasting on the centipede while the other approached with its head down and cocked.
My legs burned as I pushed forward again, each step sending jolts of agony up my battered body. The air grew thicker, heavier with a strange scent—not quite decay, but something older, like ancient dust disturbed after centuries of stillness.
"KRAAAAK!" The cry came from behind me.
I didn't look back. The edge of the forest loomed before me, skeletal trees reaching up like bony fingers against the bruisedsky. As I crossed into their shadow. My feet ached as I passed into the strange forest, heart hammering and blood trickling from the numerous cuts and scrapes on my arms and legs.
The trees were twisted into grotesque angles, bark as dark as tar, branches stretched like skeletal arms. Not one branch had a leaf or a flower. The silence made the distant wailing roars sharper, echoing as my ears strained for any signs of further pursuit. My blood thundered in my ears.
I needed to head in a diagonal now if I was going to get to the chasm and cross the narrowest point to the portal. Though I tried to calculate how far I had to go, my vision swam.
The trees loomed on either side, thick black trunks with dark sap oozing from deep fissures. My foot caught on a rock, and I stumbled, my hand catching on the coarse bark. Some sap dripped onto my forearm.
“Ahhh!” The sticky substance burned, sharp as a burning blade against my skin. I jerked back and dropped to the ground, dragging my arm across the soil.
The burning sensation intensified, spreading like fire over my skin. I bit back another cry, not wanting to attract any more attention from the monsters behind me. Frantically, I scraped at the dark sap with a handful of dirt until I worked it off. The pain radiated up my arm, leaving angry red welts in its wake.
"Cursed trees," I muttered through clenched teeth. Of course nothing in this wretched place would be harmless. This whole place was cursed. Then again, with a name like the Witheringlands, what did I expect?
The distant screeching of the deathbeaks and shattering roar of the behemoth spurred me forward. I couldn't afford to stop, not with those creatures so close behind. Cradling my burning arm against my chest, I forced myself to keep moving, weaving between the toxic trees and trying not to brush against their venomous sap. Blood dripped down my back and calves.
With only the sun’s setting position through the skeletal trees to guide me, I continued forward.
Soon this would be over. I was getting closer.
The forest grew denser, the twisted trees crowding closer together. Their branches interlocked overhead, blocking what little light filtered through the bruised sky. In the deepening gloom, shadows seemed to move independently, slithering along the ground and coiling around tree trunks. I couldn't tell if they were real or just tricks of my exhausted mind.
A distant crack of branches snapped my attention backward. Something was following me.
I quickened my pace, ignoring the stabbing pain in my feet and the burning in my lungs. The once gorgeous silk dress—now torn, filthy, and streaked with blood and sap—caught on a jagged branch. I winced, my gaze catching on a bloody streak of red on my foot. Ugh. I’d ripped off two of my smaller toenails and cut up the soles of my feet. This blood trail I was leaving would lead any predator straight to me.
I sat heavily on the ground and ripped my sleeves off. Wincing, I bound the dirty silk around my feet. Sharp pain lanced through me. Bleeding hemlock. It hurt so much. Tears leaked from my eyes as my heart still raced.
I tore more fabric from the hem of my dress, wrapping the silk tightly around my bleeding feet. Each time I pulled the makeshift bandages a little tighter, pain shot through my raw flesh. It would take a miracle to keep me from getting an infection.
"Just a little longer," I whispered. My own voice sounded so alien in this harsh forest. I had to clench my teeth as another series of spasms throbbed through my feet. "Get to the portal, get through, seal it behind you, and go home. That’s all."
Home.
The word felt like a prayer on my lips.
I thought of the Peace Garden with its elegant fountain and vibrant flowers, of the festival music and spiced chocolate. Already I could imagine Enola’s expression when she heard what had happened.
I tied off the last bandage and tested my weight. Pain lanced up my calves, but the bindings held. It would have to be enough. I pushed myself up, using a tree trunk for support, careful to avoid the caustic sap. My legs trembled a bit as I adjusted, and I forced myself to take one step, then another.
One step in front of another. That’s all I had to do.
My limping gait was painfully slow, each step a negotiation between speed and agony. The forest closed in around me, branches reaching like grasping fingers. Strange sounds echoed through the growing darkness—clicks and whispers that might have been wind through branches or something far worse.
Forward even though time no longer felt like it was passing.
