Whyborne
All thought to remaining in a group was abandoned as we fled before the coming of the soldier. Turner raced ahead, the chrysalis clutched tight in his arms, leaving the guards to fend for themselves. They did so admirably, shoving Christine and I aside in the desperation to save their own skins.
Still, they weren’t quite fast enough. The hindmost in line screamed as acid-dripping feelers grabbed him, wrenched him from the ground, and brought him to the orifice on the soldier’s underside. His shrieks became higher and wilder, before ending abruptly. A moment later, charred and melted bones clattered to the floor.
His death bought us time, although not much. As we passed out of the nursery room, agitated workers scattered everywhere from the light of our lanterns. Behind us, the soldier went to ground in order to fit through the door separating rooms, giving us a few more seconds.
One of the guards stopped, firing wildly at the soldier as it squeezed its plastic form through the smaller opening. The bullets had no discernible effect, and his gun hit the ground as a feeler lashed out and wrapped around his leg. His agonized cries echoed behind us.
Christine stumbled, weakened from blood loss. I put my arm around her waist, hauling her along with me. As we reached the final, short hall, my heart lifted. The seals were just ahead. If they held, if the soldier couldn’t get through, I’d set fire to the remaining guard’s pistol. Then we’d deal with Turner.
Turner passed through the huge doorway ahead of us, the chrysalis still cradled in his arms. A moment later, the guard went through after him.
“Come on, Whyborne!” Christine urged. Together we ran through the door and—
My face smashed into an invisible wall. Agony exploded in my nose and forehead, and I tasted blood. Christine was wrenched free from my grip, and I slammed into the floor a moment later.
“What the devil?” Christine cried. “Whyborne?”
I blinked dazedly. She stood on the other side of the door, staring back at me in alarm. What had happened?
No. Oh no.
My fingers shook as I reached out toward her, only to encounter an obstruction in what appeared to be empty air. Heart pounding, I pressed my palms against it and pushed. But there was nothing material to shove aside. Just the lines of magic, laid down in some unknowably ancient time, meant to keep the monsters in.
“I can’t cross the seals,” I said, and my voice trembled. Our eyes met. “My ketoi blood is trapping me here.”
“Cast a spell or something, damn it!”
“I can’t!” My throat tightened. “Run, Christine! Get out of here!”
She plunged back through the doorway, gripping my arm. “No! I’m not leaving you! We have to—”
It was too late.
The soldier burst into the hall, wings unfurled. I didn’t have time to think. Wrapping my arms around Christine, I flung us violently to the side, away from the soldier and into the heaving mass of agitated workers. We rolled across the stone floor, fetching up against the wall, while the soldier struck the barrier again and again, frantic to get through and retrieve the stolen chrysalis.
I covered Christine’s body with mine as best I could. Workers slithered over us, their feelers slick wherever they found my skin. Their horrible, boneless weight pressed down on me, and I struggled to keep from crushing Christine against the floor. Her breath came quick and frantic, and I closed my eyes and prayed my pathetic attempt at cover would work, and the next touch I felt wouldn’t be the soldier’s acid eating away my skin.