The flesh was a rotten pink, almost liquid, splashing on the ground and stretching out with finger-like tendrils. Appius was completely buried under the deluge of guts, Ashbringer was engulfed to the waist, screaming as his flesh began to burn in the acid slicking the wyrm’s insides. He swung again with his hammer, pounding on the spongy mass. The stomach continued to crawl over the ground, almost like a thing with a mind of its own, stretching out sticky strands and snaring the gladiatii about it. And finally, with a hollow, rushing slurp, the beast inhaled its guts back inside itself, dragging half a dozen screaming men with it. The crowd roared in delight and disgust.
On the beast’s flank, Mia stabbed her blade hilt-deep again, feeling the monster shiver. Its blood was deep red, almost black, slicking her to the elbows. As the behemoth rolled and bucked, she reached up to her spaulders—the pouch Ashlinn had hidden in the sand. Groping inside, she grabbed a handful and drew it out; three spheres of bright red glass in the palm of her hand.
A gift from Mercurio before they’d departed.
Wyrdglass.*
Dragging her sword free, she pushed her fist into the wound, burying the spheres into the beast’s muscle. The retchwyrm roared in pain, rolled over on its side to crush Mia. The girl dove free, narrowly avoided getting pulped against one of the stone fangs as the wyrm whipped its tail. Wyrdglass was activated by pressure, usually by throwing it at the wall or floor, but Mia hoped the press of the beast’s own muscles and weight would be enough to break the arkemical bonds that held the glass in solid state. As she stumbled to her feet, dashed away, she heard a dull pop, almost lost beneath the crowd baying, the monster’s roars. A bubbling gout of blood and flesh burst up from the retchwyrm’s side as her wyrdglass exploded.
The crowd cheered—they’d no idea what the girl had done, only that she’d wounded the beast. The retchwyrm howled, gullet bubbling in its throat, the stench of blood and ashes and acid washing over Mia in waves.
“… I THINK YOU MADE IT ANGRY…”
“… ever the observant one, dear mongrel…”
“… EVER THE SMART-ARSE, LITTLE MOGGY…”
“… flattery will get you nowhere…”
The retchwyrm turned its blind head toward Mia, let loose a terrible howl. The girl dashed back toward the cluster of other gladiatii, seeking cover among the rocks, trying to get beyond the reach of the retchwyrm’s chain. The monster snaked after her in pursuit, slamming its massive bulk onto the dirt in an attempt to crush her. The ground shook, Mia stumbled. Other gladiatii were hacking and chopping at the beast, but it seemed largely intent on the girl who’d wounded it worst. In desperation, Mia turned, held up her hand as she scrambled backward, trying to snare the monster with its own massive shadow until she was beyond the reach of its chain.
The reaction was instantaneous. Terrifying. The behemoth stilled, as if its every muscle went suddenly taut. With a spine-chilling roar, it lunged across the sand right at Mia, mouth distended, corrosive spittle hissing as it thrashed against its bonds. And with a shriek of tortured metal, the bright sound of shattering steel, the chain binding the beast to the floor snapped clean in two.
“… o, shit…”
“… O, SHIT…”
“O, shit!”
The beast whipped about, far too huge for Mia to hold it still with her shadowerking. The girl dove aside as its tail swept across the arena in a great scything arc, crushing stone to splinters and the gladiatii about it to pulp. Mia was clipped as she dove free, smashed into an outcropping, black stars bursting in her eyes. She lost her grip on the shadows as she collapsed, the retchwyrm roaring in incandescent rage.
“It…” Mia blinked hard, spitting dust off her tongue. “… It heard me?”
“… WHEN YOU CALLED THE DARK…”
“… interesting…”
The beast howled again, seemingly furious, skin rippling as its guts bubbled and burped in its throat. But with no shadows now to distract it, and realizing it was suddenly free of its bonds, the retchwyrm turned its blind head toward the vibrations of the chanting, roaring crowd. And as the audience also realized the behemoth’s chain was broken, they broke into screaming, frothing panic.
Mia reached up to her spaulders, blood running cold as she realized the pouch of wyrdglass was no longer there. She searched the sand about her as the retchwyrm snaked toward the arena wall, the broken glass and firepots ringing the enclosure now seeming pitiful in the face of the monster’s sheer size and rage. A cadre of half a dozen Luminatii legionaries rushed into the arena, sunsteel blades drawn, crying, “For the Republic!” and “Luminus Invicta!” as they charged. Seemingly giving no shits for Republics, Light, or Anything Much at All, the beast vomited its gullet again, engulfing the entire cadre in a tangled mess of rotten pink and burning acid.
Sweat burned Mia’s eyes, the screams of the crowd almost deafening. The arena around her was sheer bedlam now, people rushing for the exits, others sitting paralyzed in their seats and crying out in terror.
The retchwyrm reared up and bellowed, its broken collar hanging loose about its throat. Twenty fresh legionaries with swords and shields charged out from one of the iron portcullises, but with a single sweep of its massive tail, the monster smashed them all to pulp against the arena wall. Its thick, leathery hide was pierced in a dozen places by spears and blades, dark blood dribbling from the wounds.
“… well, this is going splendidly…”
“You know, it’s very easy to sit back and criticize,” Mia gasped, rolling onto her belly, her head still ringing.
“… strangely satisfying, too…”
“… TELL THAT TO THE PEOPLE ABOUT TO BE DEVOURED…”
“… what would be the point of that, exactly…?”
The retchwyrm had reached the arena wall, its eighty-foot length undulating like some grotesque moth spawn. It loomed over the ten-foot barricade easily, featureless head swaying above a pack of terrified spectators, its gullet burbling as it inhaled. Mia dragged herself up out of the dirt, skull throbbing, the bodies of dead gladiatii spattered and smeared all about her. Searching among the corpses, she found a longspear, its haft still intact. Her damned helmet only interfered with her vision, but she dare not remove it in the off chance some random servant of the Church saw her face. And so, with a silent prayer to the Black Mother, she drew back her arm and hurled the spear with all her strength.
The weapon sailed through the air in a perfect arc, steel head gleaming in the sunslight as it pierced the retchwyrm’s throat. The monster bellowed, shaking its head to dislodge the toothpick, black blood spraying. And reaching out once more to the dark puddled beneath it, Mia seized hold of the monster’s shadow.
“Oi!” she yelled. “Bastard!”
The retchwyrm shuddered, a deep, rumbling whine shivering its entire length. The people in the bleachers forgotten, the beast turned its blind head toward Mia and split the air with a hollow, deafening roar.
“… now you have its attention…”
“Excellent.”
Mia picked up two swords from the bloody dirt around her.
“But what the fuck do I do with it?”
CHAPTER 18
GLORIA