The mirok surged from the water. It belly crawled with shocking speed for a beast of so large a girth.
"Run!" Thrax shoved Rowan towards the tunnel. But he stayed rooted, broadening his stance as the mirok charged forward.
She skidded to a halt when she realized what he was doing. Horrified, she gaped as he dove out of the way of the mirok's snapping jaws and venomous fangs. But her relief was short-lived. With Thrax out of the way, the mirok's green gaze fixed on her instead.
"Rowan!" he bellowed.
Her heart clamored so loud that she could barely hear Thrax shouting for her to run. She knew that if she ran, she'd be dead. Yet if she stood there gawking, she'd be dead the sooner.
Without thinking, she dropped to the ground, her posture supplicating, her terror slithering in her belly. It was enough to surprise the mirok. It skidded to a slow, dragging gait. Rowan hastily rolled the moonstone towards the beast. "I didn't know it belonged to you!" she cried. "I'm sorry!"
The mirok watched as the moonstone rolled past, but its glare shot straight back to Rowan and it continued its slow advance with baleful hissing.
Her chest was like a vice of thorns, squeezing her heart. Red! she thought suddenly. Miroks love red! She ripped the wolf stone from her neck and flung it at the mirok's feet. She'd learned something pertinent from the Carthyrk mirok—the dearer the trinket, the greater the impact, and the more likely the mirok was to accept the gift. There was no treasure she cherished more than her red wolf stone.
The mirok came to an abrupt stop this time, its great viperous eyes narrowing over the necklace. It was close enough now to snap its jaws around her. It breath rolling in and out, low and menacing.
With her heart in her throat, Rowan held her hand up to stay Thrax. He looked on the verge of charging to his doom. Preternatural though he was, he was no match for this creature. And by the look of the eerie vishwa skulls scattered about, even the hive drones who entered never made it out alive.
It seemed to take all of Thrax's willpower to observe from the sidelines, but he did as she bade him and he held himself back as the mirok considered her offering.
It stretched its neck out, lowering its flaring nostrils close to her head. She held still as the mirok sniffed her. She shut her eyes snapped shut with a flinch as it vented a great snort, blowing her hair into her face.
Shaking, she peeled her eyes open and met its gaze. Finally, its eyes shifted back to the necklace. In that instant, she had her answer.
The hulking mirok plucked the necklace up gently with its fangs and steadily retreated to its lair beneath the water.
Rowan's bones melted with relief. A shuddering sigh burst forth as Thrax snagged his arms around her like steel bands, hoisting her against him, her back to his chest. Her cheek dropped to his bicep as he pressed a fierce kiss on her temple. He said nothing, just held her in his crushing embrace.
But they both looked up, startled, as something landed with a plink nearby. Her eyes bulged. It was her warg pendant! For a horrifying moment, she thought the mirok had changed its mind. But its green eyes were half-lidded now as it watched them from the lake, its body shrinking even as they watched. Her eyes flicked back to the stone.
The silver nixrath chain was gone. Removed! The rest of the mirok's colossal body lay hidden like a pearl beneath the ripples, only its nostrils and eyes were visible. It's horns and tusks, too.
With a jerk, Thrax was on his feet. He yanked her up, a mix of rage and fear rolling off him in waves. Though her legs were wobbly, he began ushering her out of the tunnel. "Out," he snarled under his breath. "Now."
Rowan nodded, but dug her heels in. Her gaze darted back and forth between the mirok and the warg stone. It glimmered red in the muted light, winking for her to retrieve it.
"It took the silver chain," she said, "but not the red stone. Why?"
"For the love of Brek, woman! Ask your whys from the other tunnel." He began to drag her out, but Rowan pulled free and dashed towards the warg stone. Thrax loosed a warning growl, but she knew the mirok wouldn't attack again. It'd given her back the stone! Just like the red mirok once had! "Rowan, out! Now!" Thrax snapped.
"Not without my stone!" She snatched it up and wheeled back around, intending to run back to Thrax. But she hadn't
T counted on him being right behind her. She slammed into his chest with an "oomph!" of surprise.
"That trinket isn't worth your life." His wolf eyes were locked on the unmoving mirok. This time he grabbed her hand in a vice grip and backed away, keeping his glare aimed at the water's edge. "You need a fokken leash, woman."
"It won't harm us," she said. "Just look at its body language."
His chest rumbled with anger as he steered her out, kicking a pincer skull out of the way. "I'm sure that's what this vishwa said, too..."
"Wait!" She tried to stop again, but this time Thrax was resolved, his grip unrelenting as he dragged her out. She met the mirok's gaze one last time. "Umm, excuse me, Great Mirok..." How did one even address such a creature?
"What're you doing?" Thrax seethed, his glare shifting briefly to her.
But she turned back to the watchful mirok, her voice rising as Thrax pulled her further away. "Thank you for sparing us!"
"Oh, for the love of Brek!"
She ignored him, tripping backwards against his unyielding grasp. "Umm, I don't mean to be impertinent but...might I ask another favor?"
"Rowan! I swear to—"
"Could you...perhaps also spare us a tooth? A discarded tooth, I mean. It seems mirok ivory is the only thing strong enough to pierce a vishwa hide. I'd be in your debt if you did!"
"You're already indebted, woman!"
The mirok looked on, alert, its gaze narrow. But it remained in its lake, seemingly unmoved by her plea. A silent and resounding no, then.
Though her shoulders slumped, she rallied a smile and waved goodbye to the mirok. "Well, thank you all the same! Erm...goodbye now!" Gods, she felt like a fool. Had the mirok even understood her at all? Its deadpan look said otherwise.
Thrax shook his head and faced forward, now they were at a safe distance. "The gods shackled me with a veritable lunatic."
At the bend in the tunnel, she lost sight of the mirok. "I wonder where its nest is? I didn't see any eggs."
"That's a female. Only the males guard nests."
She cocked her head, confused. "How could you tell?" She hadn't thought to look that closely.
"The females are far larger than the males, and I didn't see any sign of a nest. The males keep their nests ready in the hope of one day attracting a mate."
"Oh!" She clutched the warg stone to her heart as they entered the chamber between the two tunnels. "How romantic!" They were entering the other tunnel now—the one in which Meera's scent still lingered. She stowed her wolf stone in her apron dress, patting the hidden pocket before dropping her hand. Keeping her voice low, she said, "We should take this mirok back to Carthyrk with us."
"Woman, you have daft notions of romance."
"Says the warg who kidnapped me on my wedding night."
"For which you are eternally grateful."
She glanced down his powerful frame, her eyes halting on the yard of flesh swinging between his thighs. "Grateful for a warg husband? A hairy savage with his cock out more often than not?" She gave a dubious snort.
"Better a savage," he said, giving her hand a light squeeze, "than a cockless lordling who'd finger his ink pot more than his wife."
She rolled her eyes, her hand hugging him back.
"At any rate," he went on, ears twitching in every direction, "your little red friend seems to have set his heart on you." Then he gestured behind them to the smaller tunnel. "And that one back there looks to have outgrown these tunnels. Not sure she could escape this place even if she wanted to."
"Oh, so she's trapped here, too, d'you think?"
"We're not trapped," he muttered. "I'll get you out of here even if it kills me."
"Let's hope it doesn't come to that." The mood darkened. Meera and Thresh's scents were stronger now. "Before we go off and die," she said, keeping her voice low, "there's something I want to know."
He stopped to look at her. "Yes?"
"You knew who I was all these years. Why didn't you come sooner? You allowed me to marry another man, why?"
"I didn't allow it." His jaw worked as he studied her. "I have ears everywhere. Your servants and guards might whisper in the night, thinking themselves unheard, but we wargs hear everything." A sigh rumbled out of his chest. "I was in Warrow, visiting my father's pack, when news of your imminent blunder reached me. I got to you before the bedding, that's what matters." His eyes narrowed. "You humans marry far too young, by the way."
"Yet twenty is old enough for a mating, hmm?" She rolled her eyes at his double standards. "Maybe if we lived centuries, too, there'd be no need to 'marry young.'"
"Yes, perhaps then you'd choose better husbands, too." He helped her over a thick rope of web. "That's why the gods have the choosing of mates—they don't err as humans do."
"Ahh, so you're saying you're happy with how the gods chose for you?"
He gently took her chin between clawed forefinger and thumb, pressing his lips to hers in a long kiss. "Before we go off and die," he murmured against her, "there's something I'd better say."
"Yes?"
"I love you, Rowan."
Her lips parted. "Thrax, I—"
But he pulled away. His gaze shot forward, his body tense and alert.
Finally, she heard it, too. The sound of voices echoed in the gloom ahead.
Suddenly, an awful laughter shuddered through the tunnel. It was high-pitched, disturbing the hairs on Rowan's nape. She looked up at Thrax and he met her gaze a brief moment before pulling her further along. They stepped carefully. The network of sticky webbing was getting thicker now, and harder to pick over.
"The queen," Thrax mouthed as the demented laughter continued.
Rowan tried to take heart from his steady gait and firm grasp on her hand.
At least they had one mirok fang between them. A dagger against an army of vishwa. What could go wrong?