Fireblood (Frostblood Saga #2)(55)

That’s when I felt it: a vibration. On the bridge, small, dark blurs made a skittering sound.

The miniscule spots rushed closer, growing in size.

Mice? Rats? Spiders, perhaps.

But no. Not spiders.

I’d seen an illustration of this creature in a book. It had eight legs, but a segmented tail rose and curled forward over its back with a stinger on the end. Its front legs widened into hard pincers that could sever the body of an insect in half. They were bright orange and glowed with heat.

My breath caught. Sudesian scorpions.

They came with terrible speed, flowing forward over the ropes and boards of the bridge. When they reached the ice, they would have nowhere to go but inside, inside the tiny space where I sat, where any increase in temperature would mean melting and death.

I started to struggle to my knees, then remembered Master Dallr’s instruction. I could not move. If I left the chamber, I would forfeit.

Instead, I reached out, hoping this movement would not disqualify me, and sent bolts of fire at the shapes. When the first one burned, the nearby scorpions reared and changed direction. If anything, they moved faster now. I burned another, and another. Then realized my mistake. One of the rope cables caught fire.

I swore. How was I supposed to defend myself?

But of course I wasn’t. I was supposed to sit here calmly as these stinging beasts swarmed over me, helpless on a block of cruel ice that would melt if I allowed my fear to get out of control.

“Sage,” I called desperately. But I didn’t hear her or see her. I was alone.

Even the presence of the Minax wouldn’t be unwelcome now. I would use the darkness to burn those little creatures no matter where they ran, seeking out their tiny hearts with that warped but vivid certainty I always felt when I let the darkness rule. But there was nothing in my mind, no presence but my own.

Frantically, I searched for some defense. Brother Thistle’s teachings… but I couldn’t calm myself in these conditions. I could barely remember the mental practice. What was the word? I couldn’t even remember the…

Something touched my knee and I lashed out unthinkingly with my fist. I screamed as pain lashed my thigh. The first scorpion had wasted no time in sinking its stinger into my skin.

I swore as another scorpion crawled up my back, hovering on my shoulder. I took a breath and tried to think. This was a test of self-control, so the test would be set up to punish me for movement and to reward stillness and calm. It stood to reason that if I remained still, they wouldn’t sting. I tried to focus on breathing, but my breath came in sobs. All I could do was concentrate on keeping my mouth closed. If, Sud forbid, one of them touched my mouth… I shuddered in disgust.

More of the creatures poured into the space. They were small, not much bigger than my thumb, but they were fast and several of them grasped my skin experimentally in their razor-like pincers. I moaned, shaking with the effort of remaining still. The groove in the ice was deeper now. I was sitting in a puddle. How long before my movements, my fear and anguish, melted a hole that would drop me into the stew below?

But even though that was the greater threat, it was the scorpions that tormented me. Inside me, the heat was rising, my control slipping, my sanity unraveling. I was covered now. At least a dozen were in the chamber, scuttling and confused, crawling over me and over me in their desperation to find a way out. I breathed through my nose with shuddering breaths. When one attached itself to my neck, I jerked convulsively. They grew more agitated. Two more sank their stingers into my skin: one on my knee and another on my back.

Tears slid down my cheeks and hissed as they landed in the cold puddle below. I closed my eyes. What a horrible way to die.

I shook away the thought. The time had to be almost up. Just a few more minutes.

Some of the scorpions crawled out again, heading back the way they came. The fire I’d started on the rope deterred passage that way, but some of them chose the other rope. Finding no exit in the ice, they started to finally leave.

I allowed myself a sigh of relief.

And then the ice gave way.

The first sign was the puddle draining away into a tiny opening that let the water flow down and out, as if a cork had been removed from a stopper.

As the hole grew larger, I braced myself against the sides of the chamber with my arms, kneeling and widening my legs. Another scorpion stung the back of my hand, panicked by my movement, and then it fell, legs and tail moving with ponderous surprise, toward the lava below. The remaining creatures scuttled out of the chamber. All but one, which stayed tangled in my hair, its pincers driving into my scalp.

The hole widened. I used my fingers to carve handles into the sides of the chamber. I couldn’t sit any longer. The floor would soon be altogether gone. I watched as the opening widened, widened. It was hypnotic to see the ice turn to liquid and drip helplessly into the lava. If I dropped, I hoped it wouldn’t take me long to die. Since fire coursed through my veins, sinking into the lava would be like going home, in some way.

That’s what I told myself.

“Hang on, Ruby!” a voice called.

Tears coursed down my face and dried instantly on my heated skin. “I’m sorry,” I whispered. I wasn’t sure whom I spoke to. The masters, the queen, Kai, Arcus, Brother Thistle. One or all of them. I’d failed them.

“Time!” a deep voice called. “Time!”

My head jerked to the right. Master Dallr stood at the edge of the bridge, holding the hourglass aloft.