The Perilous Sea (The Elemental Trilogy #2)

She had never used the locale for training, but she had read the story of Briga’s Chasm long ago. Foul creatures lived in the tunnels, not so much guarding them as simply preying on anything or anyone that entered.

Someone screamed. They stopped for a moment and listened. Probably someone who did not know that one should never touch the walls of the tunnels, which secreted a corrosive substance.

Ahead, something slithered across the ground. It could have been a small snake—or a detachable limb of one of the foul pulpwyrms, sent out to scout.

Another scream came from behind them.

“Idiots,” Iolanthe muttered beneath her breath, acutely aware that injuries and deaths were all too real here. Some Atlantean families would be missing beloved sons and daughters on feast days this year.

None of them deserved it, to die for the megalomania of a twisted old man.

A pulpwyrm, with the diameter of a train and almost as long, shot past in a cross tunnel. Iolanthe gripped the prince’s arm and tried to not heave.

“Something is coming behind us,” he said.

But the way was still blocked by the slithering monster in front of them. And for all they knew, coming behind them was the exact same creature. They crept as close to the cross tunnel as they dared. Iolanthe didn’t know which was worse, looking at the enormous hairy, wrinkly tube of flesh sliding past before them, or watching the head with six pairs of multifaceted, reflective eyes rapidly approaching from behind.

The mouth beneath the eyes opened. There were no teeth inside. Everything was terrifyingly, revoltingly soft—and dripping with what seemed to be bushels of black saliva.

Iolanthe stared, petrified.

The prince yanked her into the cross tunnel—the other creature, or perhaps the back end of this very one, had at last passed. But the one behind them, despite traveling at great speed, managed to turn in time into the same tunnel.

They ran, their boots sinking into the spongy ground.

Only to see another set of a dozen eyes coming at them.

This time there were no cross tunnels.

“Break a wall,” Titus urged her. “You can do it.”

She did it, though the sound of the wall crumbling was less that of stone cracking than the sickening snap of bone crunching. They raced through to an adjacent tunnel.

“Black Bastion feels like a luxury resort by comparison, don’t you think?” she somehow managed to say as they ran.

“The occupants there are certainly much prettier, I will grant you that,” he replied.

The tunnel led to a clearing of sorts.

He looked about. “I do not like this. All the tunnels lead up. There should be at least one leading down.”

She swore: from each of the five tunnels that led into the clearing came one small slithering thing. “I hope this doesn’t mean five big ones are following behind.”

Her hope was dashed as five enormous, monstrous heads entered the clearing at almost the same time.

She dropped the vertices of the quasi-vaulter to the ground. “We are getting out of here. Now.”

Titus did not object, but only took off the satchel on his back and strapped it on her. “In case we become separated.”

Hands held, they stepped into the quasi-vaulter, just as the nearest creature shot a stream of black saliva at them.





CHAPTER 33


The Sahara Desert

THE MOON HAD RISEN, AN enormous crescent low in the sky. The first group of rebel defenders took to the air, circling overhead, with a couple of small squadrons veering off to investigate the bell jar dome.

“So you don’t remember me, either?” Kashkari asked as he accepted a nutrition cube from Titus. “All this time you’ve had no idea who I am?”

“Afraid so,” said Iolanthe, refilling Kashkari’s canteen.

She tried to keep fear at bay, but she wasn’t sure whether she was succeeding. It was one thing to be hunted by Atlantis, quite another to know that even mages who should be her allies might have designs on her.

“Followers of Durga Devi,” again came the resonant, golden voice, “give up Iolanthe Seabourne and you need suffer no casualties tonight.”

She swallowed.

“Shut the hell up,” Titus retorted, his tone almost casual. “The only time you will see her is with your cold, dead eyes.”

“Thank you, Your Highness.” She smiled at him, if a little weakly.

“For you, my destiny, nothing less.”

Now she couldn’t help grinning, remembering his earlier avowal to never call her “my destiny.” Grateful for this bit of inside humor, she kissed him on his cheek. “It’s almost better than bad verse.”

He held her against him for a moment. “Nothing will happen to you, not as long as I can still wield a wand.”

Kashkari’s canteen was full. She capped it and returned it to him.

“So . . .” said Kashkari. “You don’t remember anything else, but you remember each other?”

“No,” Iolanthe replied, “but nothing builds camaraderie like running from—”

Her head felt strange, and not from the lateness of the hour. She jerked—bright streaks tore across the inside of her skull, like meteors crisscrossing the sky, burning, yet icy at the core.