Stolen Songbird (The Malediction Trilogy, #1)(85)

BAROOOM!

I shuddered at the noise, but the sound of the sluag approaching filled me with resolve. Tristan’s life might be fading away, but he would have no chance at all if he ended up in the sluag’s belly. I was all that stood between him and the worst of deaths, and I needed to think of a plan fast.

Carrying him was out of the question – he was nearly twice my size and even if I could lift him, there was no way I could outpace the monster. Gently easing Tristan’s head down onto the stone, I pulled the knife out of his boot and examined it. If only he’d had his sword, or better yet, one of the long sluag spears. If I’d any skill at it, I might hit the sluag’s little brain with a lucky shot. With a bow and arrow, I certainly could have managed it, but such speculation did me about as much good as spitting into a headwind.

I got to my feet and set about exploring my surroundings, Tristan’s light clinging to my fingers. I couldn’t kill the sluag or drive it off, but maybe I could hide from it long enough for Marc to find us.

Careful not to wander too far from Tristan, I searched through the fallen rocks. I quickly found what I was looking for: a tight sliver of space opening into a small chamber beyond. It was a dead end. The sluag wouldn’t be able to sneak around behind me, but it also meant I would be trapped until the trolls found us. If they found us.

Running back to Tristan, I bent down to check his breathing. I was still flooded with the feel of him, but it made me feel better to check. His chest rose and fell and I could feel a faint pulse at his throat.

“Please don’t go,” I whispered to the light as I let go of it. Hooking my arms under his, I slowly dragged him in the direction of our hidey-hole. The light trailed after us.

BAROOOM!

It was closer now. Close enough that I could hear the swish-swish of its body sliding over the rocks. I had to hurry, but Tristan was both heavy and unwieldy.

Swish-swish.

Sweat dribbled down my back to join the filth soaking my dress. My heart hammered from terror and exertion, but with a final heave, I reached the mouth of the hole.

“Come on, Cécile!” I urged myself on.

Swish-swish.

My narrow shoulders fit easily enough, but Tristan’s stuck and every muscle in my body screamed with the effort of turning him sideways and pulling him through.

BAROOOM!

It was nearly upon us. I pulled hard and we tumbled into the little chamber. I hurriedly dragged him to the far end and covered him with my cloak. Falling to my knees, I tucked the wet fabric around him and gently kissed his forehead. His breathing was ragged and though my own life was very much in jeopardy, my fear was for him. “Please don’t die,” I whispered. “Don’t leave me now, Tristan. Please, if you can hear me at all, fight this. Don’t let this be the end.” I pressed my mouth to his, feeling the softness of his lips beneath mine. “I love you,” I whispered. “I know I shouldn’t. I know I’m not supposed to, but I can’t seem to help myself.”

BAROOOM! The sluag slammed up against the mouth of the hole and I screamed, my voice echoing against the rock. Spinning around, I watched in terror as the creature’s long stinger lashed into the chamber. It fell only an arm’s length short, but I kept myself between the stinger and Tristan, for all the good I’d do.

The stinger whipped out again and again, always falling just short. The sluag shrieked in fury and I screamed back at it, angry and afraid.

“Go away,” I shouted. “Get you gone, you filthy bugger!”


Picking up a loose rock, I hurled it out through the crack and was rewarded with a wet thud. I threw another rock and another and when there were none left at hand, I screamed every insult and curse word I had ever heard at the creature. It tossed its bulk against the rocks and shot out its stinger, but it could not reach us.

My supply of rocks and insults exhausted, I bent down to check on Tristan and noticed the fine layer of dust and bits of rock coating him and me both. I looked up nervously and watched a cloud of dust rain down every time the sluag slammed against the rock. They were mindless creatures. Bent on the sole purpose of catching its prey, it might pull the rocks down upon us all.

Then over the racket the sluag was making, I heard a voice: “Tristan! Cécile!” It was Marc.

“Here!” I screamed. “We’re in here!”

“We’ve found them! Over here!” It was the sound of many voices and I breathed a sigh of relief. We were saved.

The sluag retreated from the entrance at the sound of the approaching trolls, but there was no chance for it to escape. The sound of its dying screams were deafening as dozens of long steel spears pierced its body. On hands and knees, I watched it collapse into a writhing heap before growing still. Marc’s face appeared in the entrance to our hiding spot. “Cécile?”

“Marc,” I croaked, my voice hoarse from yelling. “Tristan’s hurt.”

His eyes flickered past me to Tristan’s still form and his face paled. Pushing his way in, Marc knelt next to the Prince. “What happened?”

“The sluag stung him. We were running from it and then he…” A sob choked off the rest of my words.

Marc leaned his head against the wall and I could see the sorrow written across his fractured face. “Then he’s dead.”

“He isn’t!”

Angry eyes turned on me. “He will be soon enough. No one survives sluag venom.”