That thought must jinx me, because the scorpion lurches and I lose my grip, sending me flying. My weight hits the wall of the pit with a sickening thud, pain shooting through my right leg and the back of my skull.
The world swims around me, multiplying the approaching scorpion in my vision by dozens.
Farin’s laugh rings in the distance. I vaguely hear him say something about how Blaise won’t have to see him kill me in the tapestry.
The wry part of me that still thinks Farin’s an idiot is pretty sure it’ll show him standing above me laughing as I get eaten, and that Blaise won’t take too kindly to his standing by.
Unfortunately, I don’t have the breath to say as much at the moment.
The scorpion lashes its tail at me again, but it has a crude angle on me, and its tail crashes into the wall just above me, giving me just enough time to roll out of the way before it launches at me with its pincers.
I’m on my feet in the next instant, but putting weight on my leg is agonizing. I push away the pain, trying to focus on surviving this.
Standing makes me an easier target, and the glinting barb of the scorpion’s tail almost skewers me before I’m able to stumble out of the way.
It jabs again, and each time I feel as though the distance by which it misses becomes narrower.
I blink, and the scorpion multiplies in my vision again. It takes another stab at me, and since I see a dozen barbs heading in my direction, I have to take a guess at which one will strike true.
I guess correctly, but only barely. Sharp pain slices across my bicep as the barb breaks flesh.
Instant nausea washes over me.
That’ll be the venom, I realize.
Great.
Yep. I’m really hoping that Farin sticks around to watch this, and that the tapestry shows him pointing his finger and laughing.
Thankfully, the fact that the barb barely broke the skin seems to keep the venom from paralyzing me completely. At least I have that to be thankful for.
Blink.
The dozens of scorpions collapse into one.
One that happens to be scuttling toward me, pincers, well, pinching in anticipation.
I suppose it thinks I’m stunned. The thought causes a giggle to escape my lips, until I realize that probably is a sign of being stunned, and I clamp my mouth shut.
Instinct cuts through the venom’s haze, providing me with enough clarity of mind to stumble backward.
My back hits the wall of the pit. The pincers vibrate.
I think the venom must be swirling in my head again, because I start to wonder if maybe this is the best way I could go. The most fitting.
Paralyzed by the venom of a monster. Completely taken by its will. Ready to offer myself to be eaten.
This is how I killed the others, isn’t it?
I’ve just happened upon a monster that’s bigger than I am.
This seems fair somehow.
The scorpion rears back its stinger for the kill, but stops suddenly, as if shaken.
“Nox!”
I hear my name, and find myself searching for its source. My eyes have difficulty focusing, but when they do, they find Zora standing on the side of the pit. She’s launching rather large rocks at the head of the beast.
“Well, what are you standing there for?” she screams. “Run!”
I don’t have the heart to tell her there’s nowhere for me to run. There must be something about the desperation in her voice that rekindles my will to live because the haze in my brain starts to dissipate. Panic—the useful kind—overtakes my limbs.
The scorpion is backing away, though it looks as if it’s only doing so to get a running start at launching itself at Zora.
I use the opportunity to sidle up against the wall and sneak around to its backside. I clamber onto its back, trying to time my ascent with the moments Zora’s rocks collide with the scorpion’s head. So far it’s working; the scorpion doesn’t thrash its tail.
The climb is arduous, and I have to will myself to focus to keep my fingers from going limp. Halfway up, Zora screams a warning at me, and I have just enough time to latch myself around the tail before the scorpion attempts to fling me. My side crashes against the pit wall, but I don’t fall. Zora, the scorpion, and I continue on like this—scream, thrash, cling—for a few rounds before I find myself at the tip of its tail.
The scorpion must have inched closer to Zora’s side of the pit, because rather than cresting the edge of the pit like it was before, there’s several feet of air between the tip and the edge.
All I can think is that I’m glad the scorpion venom dulled the aching in my leg.
I am not accustomed to my mind working this slowly, and I am not at all hoping to repeat this experience.
I take in a deep breath, fighting the fuzz that seems to block each thought.
“Nox, you need to jump,” Zora screams. As if I don’t already know that.
