The stocky body slammed into me, solid as rock, and we went down. My sword flew from my hand. Wet, rotting breath panted in my face, a rancid gust on my cheek. The mouth yawned wide, revealing sharp, serrated teeth trying for a bite as its thin feelers shook and stretched for my face like hungry serpents, ready to release their toxin.
I shoved one hand at its thick throat, forcing distance between us. It lunged for my face. I dodged its mouth, turning my head and watching a drip of toxin narrowly miss my nose. I spotted my lost sword, just out of my reach.
Giving up on it, I located the dagger strapped at my thigh and yanked it free. With a grunt, I brought it up and sawed at the throat, pressing deep into thick, corded skin. The small eyes turned glassy, reminding me of an onyx-beaded necklace my mother had always worn.
Blood soaked me, pouring from the deepening slash in its neck. The creature fell limp on top of me.
Grunting, I flung off its weight and scrambled for my bow.
Dagne cried out. A thump behind me had me spinning, bow at the ready, arrow trained straight ahead and pointing directly into Luna’s face.
She held a dagger, blood dripping from the blade. A dead dweller sprawled at her feet between us.
I lowered the bow a fraction. “You came back.”
Her eyes glinted in the dark. “I told you to follow.”
I huffed. “I can’t move as fast as you when I’m carrying someone else.”
She turned her back on me and started moving ahead again. “More are coming. From the east. Hurry.”
I glanced to my left as if I could see them through the night. Almost in response to her words another keening cry stretched on the air, soon answered by another, then another.
Already her slight figure was hard to detect in the swallowing dark. Bending, I hauled Madoc up again. He was weaker than moments ago, a heavier burden.
With a sniffled whimper, Dagne fell in close behind me as I hastened after the girl. Ignoring my exhaustion, I kept moving, pushing ahead, one foot after the other.
FOUR
Luna
I STRETCHED MY arms beneath the trapdoor, my fingers securing and locking it in place, sealing us in. I could still hear the dwellers Outside—their tromping feet and uneven breaths. Their odor chased me down into the tunnel, sour in my nostrils and bitter copper in my mouth.
“This way.” I turned briskly, leading them through the narrow space, jumping a little when I heard Sivo call out my name ahead of us.
“Who’s that?” the boy at my back demanded.
I shook my head and squared my shoulders. I’d been practicing different explanations in my head, but didn’t think I would have to use them until after we went upstairs and I woke Sivo and Perla.
Sivo thundered toward me. His large, square hands closed on my arms, fingers flexing as though assuring himself that I was whole and uninjured.
“What were you thinking going out on your own?”
“I wanted it to be a surprise.” I glanced down to the satchel at my hip as though he could see within to the contents. “For your birthday.”
“You daft, soft-hearted girl.” He shook me slightly as his voice cracked. “Getting yourself killed would have made for one memorable birthday.”
“That didn’t happen though, did it?” I asked gently, patting his hand. “I’m right here. I’m fine.”
Sivo’s sharp intake of breath told me he’d spotted them in the gloom behind me.
“What have you done?” Sivo bit out, his voice strained tight—it wasn’t how he usually talked to me and for a moment something twisted inside me.
I stepped to the side, revealing the trio behind me.
Sivo’s hand clamped on my wrist and tugged me back as though I needed protection from this ragtag group that I had saved.
Then I remembered how quickly the archer dispatched the dweller. He wasn’t totally helpless. He could likely fend for himself if he wasn’t looking after the other two. The other two . . . I couldn’t imagine they would remain alive much longer. Not with one of them injured.
“Is there a problem?” The boy’s boots stepped closer, scraping over the stone floor. Fowler. That was what the weeping girl had called him.
He couldn’t be much older than me. He moved with an agility that surpassed Sivo’s. An air of competence resonated in the deep pitch of his voice and in the sure way he moved. He didn’t waste precious moments, life-and-death moments, debating what to do. He just acted.
“Sivo, I had to.” I motioned to Madoc. “He stepped in one of the traps.”
The tremble in my voice must have given me away. Guilt, maybe? It wasn’t our fault. We needed the traps for our survival. No one ever came into the Black Woods. No one was supposed to.
“The traps? Are they yours?” Fowler demanded.
I uttered nothing.
Sivo admitted, “We set the traps. We have to eat.”
“Yes, well, your trap caught Madoc here. Nearly got us all killed.”
“If it wasn’t for me, you’d all still be out there. Dead,” I added in case he missed my point. “You’re welcome for bringing you here.”