Page 38 of The Dragon Sacrifice

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They ran down the dim cavern hallways like their lives depended on it. Yet, Seela had no idea what was going on. They were under attack? From the horde? She thought they were regrouping. That they had time to formulate a plan.

“How bad is it?” Stenton asked Langdon as they ran.

Langdon, out of breath, was barely able to answer. He must’ve sprinted all the corridors in search of them. “At the door,” he panted. “Attacking it.”

“Attacking the door?” Stenton’s eyes went wide. “They’ve never attacked the door before.”

Langdon didn’t answer. He was too busy sprinting into an open entryway that had appeared on their right. He rushed out, holding two old swords. That was what they would have to use to fight those monsters? Two rusty dull blades?

“Is there nothing else?” Seela asked in a panic.

Langdon’s eyes flitted to Stenton. “He can still shift.”

“Only for a few minutes.” Stenton looked stricken.

“It’s all we have,” Langdon said, his voice already flat with defeat.

“There has to be something else,” Seela said, the panic building. “Some other weapon.”

The brothers exchanged a look. “Well, there is something we haven’t tried,” Stenton said.

But before he could continue, there was a horrible shuddering that reverberated through the stone. Bits of the ceiling fell, clattering to the floor. The brothers exchanged a terrified look. “The door,” Langdon said.

They sprinted down the hall.

The door had been breached. They were doomed. Seela did the only thing she could think to do. She ran after them, hearing battle sounds grow louder as she got closer.

She rounded a corner to a shocking sight. The horde had broken down the enchanted door. They were spilling into the cave like a swarm of spiders. In the few days since she’d seen them last, she’d forgotten how hideous and nightmarish they were—six hairy legs tipped with claws, red eyes, and large jaws with rows and rows of knife-like teeth. They were bigger than she remembered—about the size of a large dog—and they moved fast, skittering and jumping to attack. The smell was rancid, like decay and death.

Seela shuddered, her whole body rejecting what she was seeing. Her legs felt like backpedaling, fleeing as fast as she could from the monstrosities that poured into the cave.

But then her eyes landed on Langdon fighting for his life. He punched one off the table as it reared up to bite him, front legs spiraling in the air, and then ripped another off his leg, the tearing sound letting Seela know the beast had its teeth sunk into his flesh just before being thrown into the dark hallway.

To his left, Jerrard was smashing two together, their spidery legs scrabbling over his arms in one last desperate attempt to harm him as he crumpled their bodies. The scratches and bite marks made Jerrard’s skin bright with blood.

How could they possible stop the massive numbers that were attacking them? Seela saw dozens more pouring in. They gathered around the princes’ legs like a bog, biting and jumping, carpeting the room in roving hairy blackness.

Where were the swords? She spotted them on the table. The quarters were too close for any weapons to be effective anyway. The brothers would risk cutting each other as much as any beasts.

Two of the horde climbed up Stenton’s back and attacked his neck, teeth piercing his skin. Three more jumped at his face. He just barely got his hands up before the beasts dove for his eyes. They clawed at his forearms, struggling to hold on before falling into the scrum of bodies on the floor.

“Shift!” Langdon yelled at Stenton. “Now.”

“Are you crazy?” he hollered, swinging his arms wide to throw the beasts off. “If I shift in here, I’ll tear myself and all of you apart!”

He was right. A dragon form was big, much bigger than the little kitchen. His body would morph, filling the space until there was none left for any of them. Had the horde planned it this way?

“Sssurrender,” the beasts hissed in one voice, the awful, grating sound of nails down a chalkboard. “Sssurrender and we’ll let you live.”

“Lies!” Stenton shouted, kicking a beast into a far wall where it tore a painting in two. “You’ll kill us all.”

“We won’t,” they all answered. “Trussst usss.”

Stenton laughed, but it was cut short as a beast plowed into his chest and cut off his wind.

It was horrible to watch, the princes fighting, the beasts tearing chunks out of them, more with each passing second. And she was doing nothing to help. Nothing to stop it. But what could she do?

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