Page 72 of Of Flame and Fury
Soaking wet hair drapes over sickly yellow skin, veiling what used to be a woman’s face. Like falling dominoes, vertebrae push out from the spine in a series of pops, stretching her flesh and exposing deep-red muscle and puncturing fins.
The Nyte lifts her gaunt face, her forearm length mouth baring fangs.
“We should have just let her finish her bath,” I admit.
“Um, yes,” Emme agrees.
The Nyte smiles.
And I fire.
Blue and white lightning charges in a zigzag motion, widening as it reaches the Nyte. She leaps onto the ceiling, avoiding the strike.
Splat…Splat. Splat, splat, splat, splat.
My hand whips up, casting light above our heads. Flipper marks track the ceiling and thick wet goo drops in chunks.
Emme hops away as the muck falls to her right. “I think it’s webbing.”
“Oh, come on,” I say. “Johnny isn’t even trying to make sense with these things.”
Something crashes behind us, then to the left. A toilet flushes, and more water rushes from the tub. “Where is she?” Emme asks, her hands out.
“I don’t know.” I feel my irises bleach. “But she’s loaded with magic and damn fast.”
“Why couldn’t we have gotten the Ewoks?” she asks. “I could have just rounded them up and locked them in the freezer.”
I shake my head when more gunk falls. “I don’t know. Nipple biting is sounding really good right about now.”
More wet and sticky globs drop into the toilets. Emme gasps. “Oh, my. I think she’s laying eggs.”
“Tell me you’re joking,” I say. She doesn’t. “Emme!”
“She’s a fish, Taran. Remember the Nyte that split in two? It birthed babies all over the place.”
“Good point,” I say. The sticky plopping effects intensify. “On that lovely note, let’s get the hell out of here. There’s not enough light.”
I clasp Emme’s arm.
But it’s not Emme.
The candles surge with flames too large for the votives, illuminating yet another show-stopping smile from the Nyte. I jerk away from her, stopping dead when I spot Emme pressed against the wall.
Long webbed fingers cover Emme’s mouth, she writhes, her eyes wild and her arms bound to the wall.
I duck when the Nyte takes a swing at me. I don’t quite get my bearings before she snatches me by the leg and throws me across the room.
My right arm shoots out, sparing my skull and taking the brunt of the impact when I collide into the wall. Pain rattles me as I bounce and roll across the cold, wet floor. Emme screams my name. I’m disoriented and winded but force myself to move when Emme screams again.
The room abruptly tilts as I push up on my elbows. It’s dark, my eyes barely adjusting past Sparky’s light.
Emme twists free of the webbing. She lifts the Nyte with herforce, slamming her into the ceiling. The floor shakes as the Nyte falls, and I struggle to rise.
The creature spits globs at Emme’s face, blinding her. Emme struggles to maintain her grip and tosses the Nyte toward the stalls. Emme misses the stone enclosure, pushing the Nyte through the opening and losing her grip.
I build my fire, ready for the Nyte when it leaps from behind the stall. Blue and white flames funnel out, exploding against the stone wall and reducing it to minute particles. I keep firing, striking harder and missing each time.
The candles ignite, blinding me and blowing out just as quickly. I still have Sparky’s glow to guide us, but my vision fades in and out.