Obsidian Ridge - Jess Lebow [53]
As he watched, the creature regrew its arm. Then the rest of its features solidified, turning from slimy ooze into fabric, metal, flesh, and leather. It wore a steel breastplate, polished to a high shine, with copper chain sleeves. Underneath its armor, the drow creature had formed a purple velvet shirt that shone through the sides of the breastplate and the rings of the chain. Below that, it sported a thick leather belt that held up a single short sword in a metal scabbard. And of course, its skin was a shiny, onyx black.
The Claw shook his head. He found himself looking into her dark eyes as she stared at him. Funny how charming she seemed, even though he didn't understand her language.
The creature came at him again, punching her fist at his left gauntlet. Though she had a sword, she hadn't drawn it, and the barehanded attack caught the Claw off guard. He tried to pull back, but the drow woman was quick, and her fist collided with his. When it did, her hand flowed out, becoming little more than a blob of gelatinous gunk enveloping his entire left hand-bladed gauntlet, wrist, and all.
The room grew dark, as the magical light on his palm glowed through the drow beast's flesh, illuminating her face and chest but little else. The Claw shook his arm, trying to break free, but it was no use. She had him. The ooze around his hand seemed to dry up, hardening to an almost leatherlike state, trapping his weapon inside the creature.
Struggling for a moment longer, the Claw finally gave up. "Won't let it go?" he growled, pulling his right hand back into a fist. "Fine. I'll cut it out."
The Claw yanked the creature forward with his left hand, and buried the blades of his gauntlet into its gut with his right. Though it appeared to be wearing polished steel armor, it gave way like oozy flesh. Unable to dodge in time, the beast was pinned, and the Claw pulled his arms apart, tearing the drow woman in half. She screamed as her body came apart, then she slumped and sloughed off, dripping away from the Claw's gauntlets and splattering on the floor like chunks of uneaten food.
The Claw shook his hands to clear all the ooze from between his blades. Bits of the creature slipped slowly from his weapons, raining down on the ground and splashing in the filthy water. Kicking at the chunks of the creature's remains, he satisfied himself that it was indeed dead.
"Now," he said to himself, "to find the princess."
Reaching into his belt, he pulled out a small compass. Lifting its lid, he examined the needle. Unlike most compasses, this one didn't have the cardinal directions inscribed on its surface. In fact, there were no markings on it at all, just a glass top, a black bottom, and a silver needle-which pointed toward the corner of the room.
It was brighter now that his palm was no longer encased in ooze, and he followed the direction of the compass to the mold-covered wall. There were two footprints on the wall from where he had pushed off after being knocked on the head by the ooze creature. The mold had come away where he had hit, revealing something other than stone underneath. He tapped at it with the tips of his blades, and it made the low, solid thump of wood.
Taking a step back, he let loose with a kick, right above the footprints. The wood behind creaked under the blow, and the mold flopped from its surface, exposing an arched door with black iron bolts holding it together. Wet and covered in mold, it didn't give the Claw much trouble. With just a few more kicks the wood came apart, crumbling into rotten splinters, sending a million tiny spiders scattering in all directions.
The Claw's skin crawled at the sight of it. "I hope none of you get any bigger," he said as he leaned down and slipped through the door. "Nothing I hate more than spiders."
Chapter Sixteen
Genevie walked across the drawbridge and through the portcullis