Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 109477 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 547(@200wpm)___ 438(@250wpm)___ 365(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109477 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 547(@200wpm)___ 438(@250wpm)___ 365(@300wpm)
They continued to make their careful way through the briars. Occasionally, he had to go sideways with her hand on his arm to guide him. He returned the favor, though it wasn’t as tricky for her.
More creatures came at them from the recesses. Both of them limped. Each was sweaty, filthy, and bloodstained. Her stomach growled, painfully empty, and her head throbbed from thirst. Exhaustion plagued them both, but still they trudged on. Carefully. Focused and pushing forward. Unwilling—unable—to give in. Trusting in each other to stay alive.
The larger creatures gave very little warning before they lunged or swiped. When Daisy and Tarian heard the rustle, she charged and he tried to get to the side. Only once were there two creatures, these medium-sized. One lunged for Tarian, and before she could help, another came her way. She’d ducked, knee on the ground, knife held up. She got its stomach with the blade and was flattened by the impact. The creature raked her right thigh and left arm with its claws as it squeal-roared and flailed. She continued the attack from beneath until the slowing creature’s body was ripped from her and tossed back into the briars. Tarian had a few new punctures across that beautiful back, she had a bump on the back of her head and throbbing limbs, but they kept going. Despite the odds, limping, wondering how they were even standing, they pushed on.
Tarian dealt with the brunt of the attacks and continued to attempt using his magic to no avail. Something in the briars was siphoning it from him, or unraveling it, or some other thing to prevent him from using it. When she asked about it, he’d shaken his head in frustration and mumbled something unintelligible. Given she likely wouldn’t understand anyway, she’d let it go.
What felt like years into the winding, twisting sea of deadly plants and unhinged creatures, a soft glow with a silvery-blue hue coated the inside of the dark tunnel a ways up ahead. She spied clear tunnel walls with no more plants. No bioluminescence. The glow looked natural, like moonlight.
Is that… She didn’t even want to say it for fear it was an illusion. Her mouth felt like cotton balls had been stuffed inside.
Tarian reached back. Dried blood coated his forearm and the heel of his palm. She filled it with her weapon and looked around for the coming danger.
He glanced over his shoulder. No. Not your weapon. Your hand. I think that is moonlight. We’re through.
She could’ve cried. She definitely sagged against him, taking back her weapon and then his hand, not at all caring about blood or pus or piss—it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered but getting out of his hellhole.
He must’ve sensed her waning strength or seen the tremor in her knees, because he asked, Do you wish to be carried the last bit?
It was an absurd question. They had another twenty feet or so to go, and there might be more creatures. They might’ve saved the biggest and baddest for last. She would’ve.
But before she could throw out the logical answer—the tough-girl answer—one word floated to the surface, usually safely tucked away within the defenses of her mind and now on full display.
Yes.
He tugged her closer, turned for her, and reached, ready to reel her in. Ready to cradle her to his chest or toss her over his shoulder. It didn’t really matter. She craved the closeness of his body in a way that, strangely, seemed entirely natural.
Before he could, they saw that the Celestials had reserved the biggest and nastiest for last.
But it wasn’t a creature. It was so, so much worse.
20
Awall of briars to their right swung toward them, cutting through the established briars like the creatures had and bearing down. This attack had waited until Daisy and Tarian were right in the middle of the massive scape of poisoned needles before starting its swing. There would be no way to duck under it. No way to hide.
Run! Tarian shouted, but she’d never make it. She’d have to go carefully to ensure she didn’t touch the thorns. She’d never have enough time.
Her stomach dropped, and her heart hurt. She called up an image of Mordecai and Lexi, the first family that had offered her love. The first real home she’d ever known. Then Kieran and his Six, the first additions to her tiny world. Then Bria, Jerry, Dylan, and Amber—the people for which she kept expanding her circle of trust. The only people who would miss her. Who would lament her passing.
She called them up in her mind and held them close, soaking in her love for them in her last moments. Wishing them goodbye.
Tarian yanked her around and wrapped a big arm around her. He squeezed her to his chest as he jostled her toward the stationary wall of briars, away from the swinging wall.