Page 67 of In Darkness Forged
Her warning was almost too late. The darkness surrounding them erupted, vomiting legs and eyes and a horror Aislin could never have dreamed or imagined.
Their enemy had found them.
Somehow, she’d expected they would face the giant spiders as individuals, but there was no time to kick herself for being wrong. No time to do anything but take an instinctive step back as the tidal wave surged forward, the aranthas holding nothing back in defense of their home.
Dozens of them crowded the depths of the tunnel, some as large as Crow, some no bigger than a dog. They scuttled down the walls and hung from the ceiling, and as Tal whirled to place her at his back, Aislin raised the dagger in her hand and almost quailed at how inadequate it seemed.
There was no way to counter such an attack. No way to survive the onslaught. Except that her companion seemed not to realize that they were outmatched.
Tal lifted his empty hand and shoved, palm out. The nearest aranthas were flung backward, tangled balls of legs flying back down the tunnel, carrying many of their companions with them. It was no more than a momentary setback, but as they returned to their feet and gathered themselves for another attempt, Tal’s sword began to glow brighter, hotter, until the oncoming horde cringed back from the light.
“Just stay behind me,” he said, but Aislin could not answer, because now that her back was set to his, she could see what was approaching from the opposite direction, entering their tunnel from the cavern outside.
It was another arantha, but the largest one she’d seen yet. Taller than she was, with visible scars on its thick hide and one leg that dragged on the ground, it filled the entire passageway, fangs glistening in the light. As it took another slow step forward, Aislin’s horrified gaze fixed on the glow of the creature’s eyes, and she froze in terror—her body’s instinctual reaction to realizing that she was prey.
But she had to move. Had to fight. And she faced only one, where Tal now confronted dozens, perhaps even more.
She could do this—shewoulddo this. With the dagger in her left hand and her hatchet in her right, Aislin straightened her shoulders and took a step towards the monster that stalked her, looking desperately for a weakness she might exploit. That dragging leg, perhaps…
It lunged, deceptively fast, and Aislin barely dodged in time, swiping belatedly at the trailing leg with her hatchet. The swing missed, and Aislin had only a moment to collect herself before the creature turned to face her again. Holding both weapons in front of her, she wished futilely that she’d had some sort of training.
But in the end, it was just a spider. She’d battled hundreds of spiders, and they had never escaped her. This time was no different. The longer you hesitated, the greater the chance for them to run, so in the absence of a better plan, she simply lifted her weapons and charged.
She must have startled her opponent, because it reared up, and then she was running underneath, its bulbous body looming overhead while its legs formed a cage around her.
But not for long. Telling herself it was just like chopping a tree branch, Aislin swung the hatchet with strength and precision. She aimed directly for the joining of leg to body, then dashed out behind her opponent, emerging from the tunnel into the larger cavern.
The arantha turned, one leg at a time, but one fewer than before, in a staccato motion that indicated it was far faster than it looked. But now it was angry, and its eyes glowed a brighter red as it headed towards her, fangs clicking together ominously.
Again Aislin dodged to the side, but this time, her enemy anticipated her. Instead of ending up beneath it, she found herself directly in front, with fangs the size of her face looming less than an arm’s length away.
She screamed and struck at the closest part of the beast, again and again, and on her third try, the blade struck one of the fangs and cracked it end to end.
The arantha let out a screech that echoed through the cavern—a piercing keen of anguish—before backing away, nearly tripping over its own legs as it went. It scuttled into one of the other tunnels and disappeared, so Aislin let it go. Her hands were shaking—in reality, her entire body was shaking—so there was little chance of her pursuing the creature on her own.
She turned back towards the sound of battle and drew in a shaky lungful of air. Tal needed her. There was no time for panicking or falling to pieces in the midst of a fight.
Aislin took three determined strides forward before something struck her from behind.
An involuntary cry erupted from her throat as she hit the ground. Before she could even catch her breath, she rolled to her back and realized her enemy had been faking. The moment she turned away, it had crept back into the cavern and pounced, and now it loomed over her, fangs poised to pierce whatever softness they could find.
She was going to die. Right here on the floor of this cave. Or perhaps the monster would simply paralyze her before dragging her somewhere else to feed, but her death was staring her in the face, and all she could think of was Tal. He would blame himself, but it wasn’t his fault. This had been her choice—her decision to come here and take such a terrible risk.
And the truth was, she would do it again. She did not regret choosing to try. Did not regret doing everything she could to save her family. And most of all, she did not regret meeting Tal.
As if her thoughts had summoned him from out of the darkness, Tal suddenly appeared beside her. His shirt was torn and bloody, his face was battered, and his teeth were bared in defiance as his sword tore the arantha in half, cleaving straight through its body to leave smoking pieces on either side.
Without a moment’s pause, he pulled her to her feet and swung back towards his own battle. But it was far too late. Both of them froze as a flood of aranthas poured from the tunnel to fill the cavern. The tide of scuttling horrors spread to the walls until it surrounded Aislin and Tal where they stood on the floor, and even then, it did not abate.
Aislin lifted her chin and tried to pretend that she could meet death unafraid. She wanted to live up to her own fearless declarations, and yet, she could not seem to stop her hands from trembling. Could not hold back one brief, quiet whimper of horror at the thought of what awaited them both. Her knees tried to fold, but Tal caught her, his arm bleeding but still strong. His grip held her up, pulled her closer, and forced her to look at him.
“I won’t let you die,” he said, eyes still bright with the light of battle. “Do you hear me, Aislin? I will not let them have you!”
He was lying. There was nothing he could do, but he was trying to contain her fear, so she nodded.
Tal drew her nearer, curling his arm around her waist until she was pressed against his side, their faces mere inches apart. “Whatever happens, do not linger for me,” he commanded. “When this is finished, you must go. Take Cuan, and live.”
For a single moment, their foreheads touched, and then he released her. Took his dagger from her hand with ominously gentle fingers.