Tiana: Wayward Mage, Book 4 by Ann Gimpel

Author:Ann Gimpel [Gimpel, Ann]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Ann Gimpel Books, LLC

Chapter 12

Tiana

Time slithered past. I had no way to judge how much. No windows. No differentiation between day and night. The promised food was slow to arrive. Very slow. It felt as if days had elapsed before the same black portal flared to life disgorging two large rank-smelling bones covered with meat.

Roya rose from what had become her spot in our small cave and inspected the latest arrivals.

I cupped a hand over my nose to reduce the stench while Roya prodded a bone with one foot. When it rolled over, cream-colored, segmented maggots crawled out and headed straight toward me.

Mother may have an affinity for insects. I’d never appreciated them. Still, I forced myself to crouch low and extend my hands in greeting. Small, childlike, inarticulate voices swirled, and the tiny, wormlike creatures crawled up my legs.

These were the first animals I’d seen since my capture. They made me smile. I’d underestimated insects, one of many mistakes I’d do well not to repeat.

“Get ready for more,” Roya called and toed the other leg onto its side.

Maggots streamed from it. This batch was on the dark brown side; most were still chewing. Maggots are the cleaners of the animal kingdom. With an uncanny ability to segregate rotten flesh from sound, they’ve been used on battlefields and in primitive hospitals for hundreds of years.

I’d have known more about them if I’d had a better attitude toward my lessons. Soon, hundreds roved all over me, dipping under my clothing in places. The touch of their mouths wasn’t as creepy as I’d anticipated.

Because it had only been Roya and me for so long, I wasn’t quick on the uptake. Across the cave from me, she’d piled rocks into a primitive barbeque pit and was busily crafting fire. Given the lack of burnables, her entire cooking effort would require a flow of power.

“Holler if you need help,” I said.

She was so intent on her task, she didn’t answer. I got it; both of us were half starved. Magic is a picky mistress requiring adequate rest and food to function at peak performance.

Insects aren’t warm blooded, but the net effect of all those tiny bodies creeping this way and that was soothing in an unexpected way. And then it hit me. They’d come from outside this cave. Did they hold information that might help us escape?

“Where exactly are we?” was my first shot out of the box.

A chorus of “home” and “here,” told me none of them had ever ventured beyond wherever we were. Why would they? Their lifespans are short, measured in days before they turn into flies.

I tried again. “What is it like beyond this cave?”

“Bigger and the same,” was followed by, “Hot.”

So far, I was batting dead zero. “Can we escape?”

“Why would you want to?”

Finally, something I could respond to, hopefully in terms they’d appreciate. “I was taken from my family. I miss them.”

Crooning filled my mind. I’d touched a nerve. Unlike some insects that possess a group intelligence, maggots are independent.

“We could ask for you,” someone ventured.

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