“Please help.”

My eyes tracked upward, finding a filthy and blood-streaked half-blood clinging to the ceiling of the cavern. How she’d climbed up there was a mystery to me, but her perch wasn’t sustainable. Her arms and legs shuddered with strain, and without magic to help her, it was only a matter of time until she fell. Which was exactly what the sluag was waiting for.

Barooom. The sluag’s call filled the chamber, and I grimaced as at least two more answered. Distant, but the bloody things could move much faster than their bulk suggested.

The half-blood’s grip slipped. She shrieked, barely managing to catch herself, now dangling from one hand.

Tristan tried to push past me, but I held tight to his arm, assessing our situation. It was a bad place to hunt, the cavern accessible from at least six other passages, and knowing the sluag as I did, they’d find more. We were going to be surrounded, and if that happened, all of us were dead.

Which the half-blood would be, no matter what we did.

“It’s not good,” I said. “We need to retreat.”

“No.” He jerked out of my grip, moving into the cavern. “Anaïs, with me. Marc, you and Vincent go left. Victoria, keep the light and watch our backs.”

We spread out, spears up. Unless one of us got lucky, it would take more than one to kill it.

The sluag rotated, watching, and repeated its call. Barooom.

More echoed from beyond.

“Tristan…”

“We’ll be quick.” He stepped in, and the rest of us mirrored the motion. The sluag’s stinger struck, but we were still out of range of the weapon, which delivered a toxin capable of paralyzing human and troll alike, leaving its victim helpless while the creature consumed its meal alive.

Anaïs attacked first. With a grunt, she threw her spear, the shaft glittering red and gold in the firelight. The tip sank deep into the sluag’s flesh, but it was already moving, lunging toward her with a shriek. Startled, she stepped back, and her boot slipped on the wet rocks, her head disappearing beneath the water.

Tristan threw himself between her and the sluag, batting aside the stinger and ramming his spear into the creature’s pasty flesh. It sank deep, but the sluag’s momentum didn’t falter. It slammed into Tristan, knocking him over.

I leapt on the creature’s back, dodging the flailing stinger, and driving my spear through its spine. The sluag went limp, but its stinger kept thrashing, stabbing into the murky water over and over.

Dropping to my knees, I grabbed the stalk and tried to pull it back, but it was impossible to get a grip on the slick flesh. “Vincent,” I shouted, but the only response was a flash of white and a labored grunt.

Another sluag.

Vincent’s spear was embedded in its side, his sword now in hand. His sister moved to help him, our lone source of light flickering in her grip. And behind her, there was movement. “Victoria!” I screamed, then the sluag moved beneath me and I slid sideways.