Warden (Book 2: Lure of the Lamia) Read Free Page B

the cave. He interpreted the plants’ response as “ No.” That meant that the monster had gone through one of the connecting tunnels and was in one of the conjoined caverns.
    Errol then moved to investigate the connecting passageways as swiftly and silently as possible, with Mobley whining softly beside him. The dog clearly did not want to be here, and Errol completely sympathized with him. The sooner they could finish this, the better.
    A few minutes later, Errol stood near the entrance of the last tunnel, frowning. He had inspected all of the connecting tunnels, and there were only about two of them that he could possibly – possibly – get through. Based on his estimate of the basilisk’s size, there was no way it could have gotten through any of them to one of the connecting caverns. Had he missed something?
    A few feet away from the entrance of the last tunnel was a stalagmite that was home to a patch of the glowing lichen. Errol approached it and tried to formulate a question, ask if the basilisk had passed this way recently. The answer was in the negative, bringing a bitter taste to Errol’s mouth.
    At the same time, he began to detect an odd pressure building in his mind. Unexpectedly, he began to feel closed in, almost as if he couldn’t breathe. Was this some kind of panic attack? Beside him, Mobley whined softly, then barked into the darkness ahead of them.
    “Quiet!” Errol hissed for the umpteenth time, making the dog whimper. Oddly enough, Mobley suddenly went silent mid-whine, for which Errol was exceptionally grateful. Then, as the odd sensation in his mind began fading, he felt the dog flop against his leg.
    Alarmed, Errol reached down; Mobley wasn’t cold or stiff, but he also wasn’t moving. Both his own instincts and the plant life around him told him that the dog was dead. It had just keeled over for no rea–
    The basilisk! Errol went tense all over as he suddenly realized what had happened. The Greenlife was wrong. The damn thing was in the cave with them!
    Errol’s thoughts flew by at a furious pace. The lichen must have provided enough light for Mobley to have seen the monster. The dog had been facing forward, which meant that…
    Errol practically leaped backwards, instinctively drawing his dagger and wand. At the same time, he heard a terrifying smack, like a fist being struck against the palm of one’s hand, which he recognized as the sound of powerful jaws snapping shut in the place where his head was a moment ago. (He also realized with a start what the pressure was that he’d felt in his head: the mushrooms, trampled under the weight of the basilisk, trying to communicate with him.)
    Immediately following the creature’s attempt to take his head off, Errol felt something wet land lightly on his wrist – some type of spittle from the monster. Pain immediately flared up as the saliva started to fry his skin like acid. Muscle memory made him automatically wipe his hand against his pants, which likewise began to simmer against his leg.
    There was a sound of heavy, sharp claws scrabbling against the cavern floor, moving in his direction. Groaning in pain and stumbling backwards, Errol pointed his wand and mumbled out a word of power. Instantly, the wand fired a powerful spark of light at the basilisk, and a moment later Errol heard the satisfying sound of splatter as it made contact.
    The monster howled in pain, a long, undulating wail that echoed so deafeningly in the cave that the reverberations caused one of the stalactites to fall down with a thunderous crash.
    Suddenly, Errol’s mouth, throat, and lungs felt like they were on fire. Moreover, every exposed part of skin felt like as if it were being bitten by ants, stabbed with a knife, and stung by a scorpion at the same time. He collapsed to the ground in agony, losing his dagger and barely hanging on to his wand. He retched uncontrollably, stomach heaving all of its contents onto the ground in front of him.
    Somewhere in the