Her Writhing Crown by L. A. Riemenschneider

Author:L. A. Riemenschneider [Riemenschneider, L. A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Vulpine Press
Published: 2025-03-04T00:00:00+00:00

And then we were falling.

Abrasive grains of sand battered my senses as we plummeted beneath the dunes of Raas. We slid, and slid, and slid, into darkness. Crumbling earth scratched at my already stinging skin. I wouldn’t be surprised to find a gathering of fire ants munching on my body.

Air was difficult to come by.

Every breath was paired with a handful of grainy sand, feeling as though I was swallowing hot, burning steel nails.

I refused to let my senses leave me.

Surrender control.

My gorgon easily let go, giving into the frightening sensations instead of flailing my arms and screaming like the human part of me wanted desperately to do.

Tumbling through the dunes reminded me of the tunnels and passageways in Marren’s Grove, more specifically the waterway that led to the black market. Except, these passageways were disintegrating and imperfect, riddled with holes that pulled me and Rohesia into different directions.

I wasn’t sure where Brooks and E.E. had been pulled to.

The tunnel spat me out rather unceremoniously onto my backside, causing a shooting pain to zap up my spine.

Gagging, my teeth crunched on bits of sand, tasting ash and smoke. Peeling my eyes open, I expected to see darkness and empty tunnels, instead blue glowing lights lined the low-hanging ceiling, creating a perfect map of the constellations.

Unsure of how far I was beneath the dunes, I ran my hands over the mud packed walls, bewildered when my fingertips dug into the dirt and brushed against cold metal.

“Lovely!”

Shit.

Giving the tiny room a cursory glance, I clenched my jaw when I found nowhere to go. I couldn’t hide beneath the dunes, not when the room I found myself in was lined with steel.

If I couldn’t hide, I would need to be on the offense.

A door was closed to my left, with a small entryway before it, perhaps six feet long. Enough space to open the door and walk a few steps before entering the nine-by-nine room.

Smiling, I knew what to do.

The doorknob started to rattled as someone, I was guessing Brooks by his nonchalant voice and enticing essence, was starting to open the door. I would have seconds to pull this off.

My body warmed as magic pulsated throughout me.

Touching the door, I watched in equal parts joy and despair as it turned to stone and started to fall on Brooks. He gruffly grunted and reached out to catch the falling door out of instinct. Letting gravity do her bidding, the now solid stone door began its descent on his left arm and shoulder.

It would trap him rather effectively and painfully.

Or it would have, had he not bolted backwards and slammed himself against an adjacent wall. Fast yet again.

The stone door crumbled as it crashed against the metal flooring, scattering chunks outwards. One scratched my leg, but I was too furious and mentally wounded to be bothered by the pain.

This was another case of mistrust.

The people that were supposed to help me and protect me were ultimately the ones that hurt me.

My mother, sisters, The Collectress, the gods and goddesses in the sky.

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