Read Online Duel At Grimwood Creek (Book 2) by Lucas Thorn - Free Book Online

sounded hollow.  
    “I said they're not following us anymore!” She shouted back. “They're just standing there!”  
    “So? That's good enough for me!”  
    “You don't understand. They're fucking dead!”  
    “And I, for one, am fucking glad they are! Just wish they'd stay that way!”  
    “You stupid fucking spellslinger!” She tried to grab him again. Drag him back outside as the grinding sound deep below grew louder than thunder. The tearing sound bubbled under the earth and seemed echoed in the shivering cliffs. Whatever was happening, it wasn't going to be good. “Can't you hear that? They're too fucking afraid to come in here! What the fuck would scare a Draug?”  
    He paused, turning slowly toward the inside of the fortress. Then back at her. Eyes wide and sparkling bright with fear. The ground quaked and the heavy gates moaned under the shifting pressures. “Umm, Nysta? I think we should get out of here.”
    “Oh, you think?” She put one hand on her hip. Sarcasm dripped like acid. “Any more wisdom, oh great fucking one?”  
    “There's something here.” His face paled. “Shit. Why didn't I see it before? It's bad. Oh, Nysta, it's fucking bad.”  
    “I told you there was something here,” she growled. “You said it was a simple fucking enchantment.”  
    He shook his head and clawed at the gap, trying to drag himself back outside. “No no no. It's bad. Fucking bad. That enchantment was hiding it. This place. It's something else. A trap, maybe. And we're the mice. Run. Run!”
    She turned to run, but the ground lurched wildly beneath her feet. The crack they'd so easily jumped only a few minutes before suddenly split open like a mouth beneath her feet. She felt the lash of dread as she realised they couldn't make the other side.
    Then from the black depths, a scream. Not the scream of a living thing, but one as though the rock itself was shrieking in pain. Steam poured upward. A foul-smelling sulphuric steam from the deepest bowels of the earth.
    She had to scramble up against the gates to avoid falling into the chasm and her boots slid across the buckling stone.
    The Draug howled and started running back toward the trees, barking crazily to each other in a tone which left no doubt in the elf's mind they were afraid. And probably with good reason.
    Thick black sludge bubbled out of the chasm. It fizzed and spat, smoke pouring from the ground where it touched. The elf fought for balance, desperate to get her feet out of the way. Chukshene chose that moment to shove her in the back, still trying to get out.
    “No!” she cried. Twisted around to face him. “Back! Get fucking back!”  
    His head poked out through the gap, followed by an arm as he wriggled like a maggot from meat. “Inside? Are you mad?”
    The elf's words were spat between her teeth. “Not yet, but I'm getting there.”
    And with a gush of slime, foul-smelling ribs of rough black stone powered out of the ground like the fingers of an insectoid god clawing at the old fortress. Each rib as thick as several tree trunks lashed together.
    She shot a curse and shoved the stunned warlock back inside before corkscrewing through the gap between the shuddering gates. Felt the wall brush against her heels as she squirmed inside.
    Chukshene rattled out a few curses of his own as slime rained down around him. He had to dance around to avoid being splashed. Where it touched stone, it melted clean through on a blanket of smoke. Drilling back into the earth which was its home.
    The heavy ribs screeched as they raked the cold stone walls outside. A tidal moan vibrated under the awful sound as though a million voices were keening in agony.
    And chains. Massive chains guiding a mechanism from deep within the cliffs. Chains which were channelled deep below the fortress itself. Hauling the great ribs high above the ancient walls. Between the ribs, a grotesque gelatinous web of greasy-looking shadows and lumps of eldritch red formed a