A twang ricocheted against the tunnel’s walls. The sound of what she assumed was one of those short arrows thudded into…something, drawing out an eerie screech. Cyan light flared with the same dim color of the glowing plants from the cavern, accompanied by an eruption of pungent musk. Serenna nearly gagged, discovering that the foul odor was a pool of the scorpion’s blood.
Fenn approached the cat-sized creature, his colossal form casting a faint shadow on the wall. Serenna hesitantly followed, assuming the luminescent scorpion was dead.
Planting a boot on its shelled plates, Fenn yanked the arrow out of a punctured eye. Serenna’s stomach turned over at the sickening squelch.
“What’s that weapon?” She had an uncomfortable feeling it was the contraption that Vesryn had described when he’d been injured.
“Crossbow,” Fenn said, holstering it on his back. “Comes in handy, but it’s slow to reload. If there was more than one scorpion, I’d resort to throwing my knives.”
Serenna studied the pattern of glowing blue blood, spattered across the rocks. She swallowed, recalling her lacerated peers at the academy during the attack—their deaths now so pointless. If Aesar spoke true, it’s not each other that we should be fighting—it’s the king.
Steering her attention back to the tunnel, she braved to ask, “Why not use your talons?”
“And foul my claws with ichor?” Fenn released a snort. Unraveling a cord braided around his wrist, he dropped to a knee. “I doubt you’d be so inclined to plunge your dainty elf hands inside this vermin.”
Point taken, even though my hands aren’t exactly ‘dainty’ anymore. Serenna ran her elongated fingers over her damp hair, pausing to inspect the black color. “Would you teach me how to use it? The crossbow? Or another weapon?” She fidgeted with the end of her braid as he tied a knot under the scorpion’s barbed stinger. “Since Lykor is keeping me tethered, I don’t want to be…defenseless.”
Fenn barked a laugh, making her feel ridiculous for mentioning it. Why did I ask that? While she might not technically be at odds with the wraith, it wasn’t as if she should expect them to waste time teaching her how to fend for herself. Serenna scowled at Fenn’s back, preparing herself for whatever he was about to unleash.
Something that sounded like skepticism pitched Fenn’s voice higher. “Defenseless?” He cut a look over his shoulder, eyes ablaze with mirth. “I’ll have you know, Wind Weaver, that I’m still picking shards of that window out of my ass.”
Serenna blinked. Her mouth hinged open with a question but stunned shock deprived her of words.
“What?” Fenn asked, straightening back to his towering height. “You don’t believe you dealt my pride a devastating blow?”
Apparently feeling the need to prove his claim, Fenn twisted around. Serenna’s eyes popped when he slid the backside of his leather trousers considerably lower than was appropriate, shamelessly revealing much more skin than she was prepared to see. A ridge of white sutures fanned over defined muscles that he was most certainly flexing.
An unexpected laugh spilled passed Serenna’s lips before she ripped her eyes back to Fenn’s face. Flustered, the points of her ears burned as she battled to keep her eyes on his.
Fenn’s crimson gaze smoldered with amusement as he covered himself up. “You’re not defenseless. You could snap me in half with a flick of your fingers.” He demonstrated with some wild motion of his talons. “I highly doubt my clan has any intention of letting me forget how they sewed my backside together.”
Serenna’s mouth twitched at the thought. Something about his peculiar behavior dislodged a tiny splinter of fear.
“Is everyone in your clan family?” she asked, curious about the social structure of the wraith.
“It’s more of a community—a way of organizing our people. My clan is the largest,” Fenn said proudly, returning to the scorpion. “Luckily, we have talented tailors in our district.”
Serenna’s amusement morphed into guilt from observing his wounds. “Thank you for intervening in the war room.” She picked at a nail, chipped from helping Aesar clear the rubble while she assembled her thoughts. “Lykor might’ve killed me or taken the rest of my power if you and that other warrior hadn’t been there.”
“That wasn’t Lykor’s fault,” Fenn said quickly. Too defensively. “He’s not normally like that.”
Serenna remained silent, unconvinced as she mulled over his claim. Aesar had informed her of the compulsive magic on Lykor and how she’d apparently triggered it by calling out for the prince.
Serenna wrinkled her nose as Fenn hacked off the scorpion’s legs with a long knife before tying the body to his belt. Fearing it was a culinary conquest, she refrained from asking why he was bringing the creature with them.
Fenn popped his knuckles, each crack of his joints making her cringe. “Let’s get back to the light,” he said. The spilled blood from the scorpion glowed, dripping as it dangled from his waist. “I’d prefer to leave before the rest of its pod arrives to investigate. I’ll carry you, so we’re not down here until the next full moons.”
Serenna backed away as he approached. “I—I don’t need to be—” She released a squawk when Fenn scooped her up, stomach tumbling as he lifted her through the air. Expecting the wind to be knocked out of her when he slung her over a shoulder, Serenna braced herself. Instead, Fenn carried her in front of him in an equally undignified position, like she was an inconvenient bundle of sticks.
Serenna writhed in his arms, trying to put more space between them. An abnormal heat radiated through his armor, melting the chill in her clammy skin.
A sudden sting had Serenna yelping. Her voice bounced back to her off of the surrounding rock. She rubbed her backside and hissed, “Did you seriously pinch me?”
In the faint glow of the scorpion at Fenn’s side, she caught his lips twitching. “I’ll do it again, she-elf.”
“I didn’t ask you to carry me like this, you lumbering leviathan.” Serenna swatted at him when he attempted to follow through with his threat.
“Then enlighten me as to which position you’d prefer.” The rings looped through Fenn’s raised brows clinked together. “You’re squirming worse than that scorpion and you’re about six legs short.”
Serenna froze in his arms, imagining a horde of those creatures skittering above them.
Obviously feeding her terror, he continued, “There are beasts fouler than scorpions for those brave enough to venture into the belly of our fortress.” Serenna’s skin pebbled at the vulnerability, knowing nothing about this area of the world. “You wouldn’t want to find yourself alone in the dark with a vulpintera.”
Holding her breath, Serenna strained to hear anything beyond her frantic heartbeat and Fenn’s boots thudding against the stone. I can’t fathom what kind of creature could be worse.
“And what is a…vulpintera?” she asked in a hushed voice, as if not to summon one. “Do they have even more legs?”
Fenn flashed his fangs in a nasty smile. “You’ll find out soon enough.”
Serenna swallowed, picturing an abomination like a giant spider.
“Lykor keeps one as a pet,” Fenn said, his tone menacing. “I imagine Aiko is quite hungry since she’s missed her last few meals.”
Serenna stiffened so violently that she feared her spine would crack. She laughably clutched the front of Fenn’s leathers, as if she could locate a shred of safety in the wraith warrior.
“See, sitting still wasn’t so difficult,” Fenn said, shifting her. Serenna didn’t appreciate that glimmer in his eyes and his chuckle rumbling through her. “Since you were barely plodding along, I figured you’d prefer being catatonic cargo.”
Serenna crossed her arms, hunching like a disgruntled vulture, silently fuming at the arrangement and stubbornly refusing to be grateful for the warmth.
