Hive Queen by Sinclair, Grayson (ereader iphone .TXT) 📗

“If we go through right now, we go at our worst, and I don’t like our chances,” Maus said.

“If we stay, we risk capture by the prisoners and being turned over to the guard.”

“Both just terrific options,” he replied with a weak chuckle.

There weren’t any better options. Either we stayed and recovered, risking being found and captured, or we took a chance on the mysterious hole to nowhere.

“I vote the hole, but I’m not going to fault you on your decision.”

Maus wasn’t my friend, wasn’t part of my guild. I owed him as much as he owed me: nothing. We were tied in mutual bondage, but what he chose was his will, as was my own. I wasn’t going to stay one second longer.

I stepped through the hole and looked back. “Your choice, Maus, but I’m getting out of here. I’ve been away too long. I refuse to stay when freedom is right here.”

He glanced back up the tunnel and back at me. “Fuck, you’re right. Let’s get the hell out of here, exhaustion be damned.”

He followed behind me, and we slid through the crack. The tight wall brushed on my chest and back, making breathing difficult. For a few seconds claustrophobia tempted my heartbeat, but then I was through and standing on the other side.

It was just as dark, and I’d had to stow my torch to make the climb. I pulled it out and relit it. The darkness recoiled in surprise, and the biting orange flame illuminated our surroundings and danced along the walls.

More of the same rock on this side, but it spread in a rough circle around us, and our little bubble had been carved by hand, rather than nature. The sharp scrapes and tool marks that riddled the space told me as much. What the hell is this place? My question had to wait as Maus slid out behind me. He coughed and hacked up a gob of phlegm onto the floor.

“Damn, what is this place?” Maus stared and scratched his head. “Not a part of the mine, the markings aren’t from mining. They’re from excavation.”

I peered closer at the marking and realized he was correct. And that they were old, years and years old. But that alone didn’t tell us anything. “Let’s keep going, see if we can find a way out of here.”

We pushed forward and eventually came to the end of the room, and on the far wall, was smooth stone bricks, worn and crumbling from age.

“Shit, do you know what this has to be?” I asked.

“A building buried deep under the earth, housing some ancient Lovecraftian monstrosity?”

I laughed, despite the pain. “Hopefully not, but this has to be a forgotten part of old Aldrust, something that was left over when the dwarves rebuilt it.”

“Okay, but how does that help us?” he asked, exasperated and exhausted.

We were both at the end of our rope and struggling just to stay on our feet. The days of little food and sleep had taken their toll.

Rushing wind split the still air, and I turned at the sound, going for my sword, only to find it not on my waist.

I was slow turning, too slow to react fast enough.

A small hunk of rock grazed my forehead as it sailed past, ripping a rough tear across my scalp. It clanked against the stone behind me as I hastily equipped my steel.

“The hell was that?” Maus asked, stating it into the darkness.

“I’ve got an idea,” I replied as the adrenaline of battle flooded through my veins.

My hunger and exhaustion didn’t matter anymore; the only thing that mattered was the sword in my hands and the blood I was about to spill.

Another rock flew toward me from the abyss, and I angled the flat of my sword just in time to deflect it.

“Quit hidin’, you bloody coward!”

“Maus, shut it and draw your weapon. If there’s one, there’ll be more.”

He shot me a questioning look but did as I told him and donned his mottled gray and black armor, drawing an elegant dagger. I couldn’t wear my armor; it was too heavy and would sap my strength like nothing else. I needed mobility for what was coming for us.

They clung to the darkness like ghosts, but only one thing would be this deep below the earth, and they travelled in clusters.

One of them scuttled into view of the torch, lighting their malformed features.

It was tiny, moving quickly on six legs. Its spindly lower half ended at its waist, and a childish torso slunk into view. A wide head with no mouth or nose stared back with eight sets of lidless eyes. Dull white irises reflected the light of the torch.

“The fuck is that?”

“A knocker,” I replied. “Be fast on your feet. They’ll chuck rocks fast enough to crush your skull if they hit. They’re territorial little bastards, and we’ve just intruded on their domain.”

More stone cut through the air, and we scattered as they pinged around us. There wasn’t any cover in the room, and there was no way we could shimmy back through the gap in time before we got brained by one of them.

Our best bet was to retreat rather than engage. They wouldn’t stray far from their home, which meant if we could get far enough away, they wouldn’t follow us.

Maus dodged a volley of rocks, but he tripped, and one of them smashed into his forearm. A sharp crack echoed sharply, followed by a tortured scream as Maus clutched his limp wrist. Bloody bone split his skin, and crimson rose around it to spill down his fingers.

It’s broken, but at least it was his off hand. We didn’t have any more room for mistakes, but we couldn’t stay in the room. It was a deathtrap, and