Marvel couldn't decide whether he was relieved that Grimm Boll was more afraid of the snakes than him.
He looked at the writhing mass of snakes that emerged from the cellar, hissing angrily, and understood the Enchanter's reaction.
The snakes had a head on either end of their black, rope-like bodies. Their tongues flicked out to taste the air, and Marvel saw vicious fangs dripping with oily venom. There had to be hundreds of them, at least, all streaming out of Grimm Boll's cellar like a dark river.
And he'd just eaten one of them. Oh gods. I just swallowed a two-headed snake whole.
Despite that, his hunger hadn't dimmed one bit. The walls of his gut clawed against themselves, begging for more.
His athar made him reach for another one.
Marvel violently clamped down on that urge. He would not be controlled by the shadows. He did not want to eat another snake, and so he wouldn't. He could feel the will of the akathar slamming against his own, trying to shatter it. Luckily, his resistance held. For now.
He had to get out of here, far, far away from the temptation to do something awful again.
He also needed to get away the heaving mass of snakes moving his way. They crawled over the grass, over each other, in his direction. If he didn't move, he would be filled with venom in less than a minute.
Marvel scrambled to his feet, stumbling away from the oncoming horde. He backed away in the direction he'd come from, intending to go back into Grimm Boll's house, get Aisling, and leave.
The snakes advanced, their hissing loud and terrible.
He took another step back, only for his spine to collide with a cold, solid surface behind him. Alarmed, he turned to find a high, translucent crimson wall blocking him off from the rest of Grimm Boll's yard. And the house. And the Enchanter himself.
Grimm Boll carried a heavy, old-fashioned shield that bore a crest Marvel had never seen before. The man's face was a bleak mask of resolve, suspicion, and fear as he looked at Marvel.
"Enchanter Grimm," Marvel demanded, "what are you doing?"
"Protecting myself from you and that creature you've unleashed!" Grimm's grip on the shield tightened.
Marvel felt his fingers begin to tremble as his heart picked up speed. Fear lodged in his throat, the taste of it now more familiar to him than anything else. Even more familiar now was the act of squashing it and forcing himself to think. He'd gone through too much in the past few days to panic anymore.
"I can explain what you saw," Marvel said, attempting calm.
"I know what I saw!" Grimm snapped. "You eating that demon. You're a demon yourself, and you let that thing out!"
Marvel frowned. "Let it out? What do you mean—" Realization hit him like a kick to the head. He met Grimm's stony gaze with a hard one of his own. "How did these snakes get here, Grimm?"
Grimm said nothing, but Marvel watched him shuffle his feet nervously.
"I definitely didn't bring them," Marvel said, "but someone else did. And you came out looking for me, didn't you? To make sure I didn't find them?"
Behind Marvel, the snakes slithered ever closer, their savage hissing coming closer. His stomach growled at the same time as his chest clenched with repressed terror.
His mind grasped for a plan.
"Let me out of here, Grimm Boll," Marvel said.
Grimm's face tightened into a sneer. "You've been a mage for all of two seconds and you're already trying to give me orders?" His eyes hardened. "If you even are a mage, that is. I've never heard of mages eating golems."
Those things were golems? A fresh wave of dread washed over Marvel. How do I keep getting into these situations?
"If you keep me here," Marvel tried to reason with Grimm, "What next? If they really are golems, your magic won't contain them for long. They'll escape and kill you."
"They'll buy me time to escape," Grimm Boll replied.
"And then what? If the Academy finds out these golems came from here, they'll kill you. No questions. Aisling, too." Marvel licked his lips, trying not to glance over his shoulder. He could hear the snakes, snapping so close to his heels. "I'm a mage. I could get rid of them without the Academy ever knowing what happened. Without Aisling ever knowing. You just have to let me out of here."
Grimm's brow furrowed thoughtfully.
Marvel cried out as he felt the snakes reach him, their scaly bodies beginning to coil around his legs. That was the last straw.
In a panic, Marvel kicked out, trying to shake the damned creatures off. He felt them squeeze tighter around his legs, rising up to his thighs and waist. He flailed in a mad, desperate dance, kicking as many of them away as possible. If they bite me, I'll be dead in seconds. I don't want to die.
There was no strategy—just pure terror. Get these bloody things off me!
In his frenzy, he barely noticed that Grimm's barrier was gone. Only when his back met air instead of the wall did he realize it. He tumbled to the ground as the wall of red magic shot out from Grimm's shield once more. Distantly, he heard the thunk of a hundred serpents slamming it. They hissed with fury, unable to get through.
But still, he couldn't stop thrashing. He struggled like a madman, grabbing the snakes that clung to him and smashing their heads beneath his boots and fists. Arms tried to stop him, but he pushed them off. He didn't notice his bloody hands as he tore at one of the snakes. He couldn't breathe, couldn't think. Just—
Get off me, get off me, get off me—
The sting of a slap cleared his head.
Marvel blinked, the pain pulling him back to reality. He touched his sore cheek, tasting blood on his tongue. Dead snakes littered the floor around him, their crushed skulls bleeding a black, oily liquid.
Grimm Boll stood a few feet away, looking wary, as if he thought Marvel might attack him. The shield stood on its own not far away. Four new scratches bled from the Enchanter's face. Marvel could feel Grimm's blood beneath his fingernails.
A hot wave of shame and horror washed over him.
"Enchanter Grimm," Marvel gasped, "I'm sorry. I thought—"
"What's your plan for getting rid of them?" Grimm cut him off.
Marvel's body still trembled. He wrapped his arms around himself, exhausted. He was tired of fighting, tired of nearly dying. He just wanted to go home. And he was so, so godsdamn hungry.
"Don't go back on your word, mage," Grimm snarled. "Though I know that must be hard for one of your kind."
Mage. Had anyone ever called Marvel that before?
"You're the one with the powers here," Grimm continued. "So get the hell up and do what you said you would. That shield won't hold for long."
Marvel glanced at the scarlet barrier. The snakes kept throwing themselves against it. There were so many of them. He could barely make out the grass beneath the sea of writhing bodies. The hissing condensed into a roar that had him scrabbling further away.
"Mage—"
"How did they get here?" he asked quietly.
"What?"
"What were they doing in the cellar?"