CHAPTER 75: THE BEAST OF THE GOLDEN SPORES (1)

The creature stepped fully into the clearing, and Apollo’s heart stuttered in his chest.

It towered above them, easily twice the height of a man, its massive frame silhouetted against the luminescent mushroom caps behind it.

Golden spores clung to its hide like a second skin, giving it a shimmering quality that shifted with each lumbering movement.

But what seized Apollo’s attention were the veins that pulsed beneath its mottled skin, thin, winding channels of gold light that mirrored his own, though fainter and somehow corrupted.

"By all the gods," he whispered, his voice lost in the creature’s rattling exhalation.

The beast stood fully upright on powerful hind legs that ended in three-toed feet, each toe tipped with a talon that could disembowel a horse with one swipe. Its arms hung long at its sides, ending in hands with elongated fingers that curled into wicked claws.

But it was the creature’s head that made Apollo’s blood run cold, an elongated, skull-like structure with a jaw that seemed hinged too widely, like a snake’s.

Where eyes should have been, there were only deep hollows filled with the same golden light that ran through its veins, pulsing in time with what must have been its heartbeat.

With each breath it took, clouds of spores rose from its body, swirling around it in a golden nimbus that caught what little light penetrated the mushroom canopy.

Recognition shuddered through Apollo like a physical blow. He had seen something like this before, though he couldn’t place where or when. The gold in his veins responded to the creature’s presence, warming beneath his skin as if greeting a distant, corrupted kin.

’I know you,’ Apollo thought, though the knowledge remained frustratingly out of reach. ’Somehow, I know what you are.’

"Steady," Lyra whispered, her knife held low and ready. "Don’t make any sudden—"

But Thorin had reached his limit. With a guttural roar that seemed to shake the very air, the dwarf charged forward, his glowing axe raised high above his head. "Come and face me, monster!" he bellowed, each step sending up puffs of golden spores from the forest floor.

"Thorin, no!" Renna shouted, but it was too late.

The creature’s head swiveled toward the charging dwarf with unnatural speed. It made no sound, no roar, no hiss, no challenge, but simply waited, its posture relaxed as if Thorin posed no threat at all.

Thorin closed the distance with remarkable speed for his stocky frame, his axe describing a perfect arc as he swung it toward the creature’s midsection. The blue glow of the weapon left trails in the air, momentarily beautiful in its deadly intent.

The beast moved with shocking speed. One massive hand shot out, catching Thorin mid-swing. The impact sent the dwarf flying across the clearing as if he weighed nothing at all.

He slammed into a mushroom stalk with a sickening thud, his armor producing a metallic crunch as it absorbed the worst of the collision.

"Flank it!" Lyra called, already in motion. She darted to the right, staying low to the ground, her knife a silver blur in the dim light.

Renna circled to the left, her own blade held in a reverse grip as she sought an opening. Apollo watched her feint toward the creature’s side, then dart back as one massive claw swept through the space she’d occupied a heartbeat before.

Nik remained frozen for a moment, his face contorted in terror. Then, with visible effort, he shook himself and drew his small dagger. "D-distraction," he stammered, clearly trying to convince himself as much as anyone else. "I can be a distraction."

He began waving his arms wildly, shouting incoherently as he circled the edge of the clearing, careful to keep well out of the creature’s reach.

Renna saw her opening as the beast’s attention shifted toward Nik’s noisy display. She darted in, quick as a snake, her knife finding purchase in the creature’s flank. The blade sank deep, drawing a viscous fluid that gleamed with the same golden light as its veins.

The beast made no sound of pain, but its reaction was immediate and terrible. The wound site erupted in a cloud of dense spores that engulfed Renna completely. She staggered back, coughing violently, her free hand clawing at her eyes as she retreated.

"Don’t breathe it in!" Apollo called, but his warning came too late.

The creature seemed to recognize the effectiveness of its defense. It drew in a massive breath, its chest expanding to an impossible size, then exhaled deliberately, sending a thick cloud of golden spores billowing across the entire clearing.

The air became a swirling miasma of light and confusion. Apollo felt the spores settle on his skin, in his hair, coating his eyelashes until the world took on a golden haze. He tried to hold his breath, but eventually his burning lungs forced him to inhale, drawing the particles deep into his body.

The effect was immediate. The whispers that had plagued him since entering the mushroom forest suddenly became a cacophony of voices, each speaking over the others in a maddening chorus.

The clearing itself seemed to shift and warp around him, mushroom stalks bending in impossible ways, the ground beneath his feet appearing to breathe like a living thing.

Through the golden haze, Apollo saw his companions similarly affected. Lyra stumbled, slashing her knife at empty air as she battled phantoms only she could see. Renna had dropped to one knee, her eyes wide and unfocused as she stared at something beyond the physical realm.

Even Nik, who had consumed a mushroom cap earlier, seemed overwhelmed by this more concentrated exposure, spinning in confused circles as he called out to people who weren’t there.

"Mother?" Nik’s voice cracked with emotion. "Is that really you?"

He turned, his dagger still clutched in his trembling hand, and lunged toward Lyra. In his spore-addled state, he clearly saw something, or someone, else in her place.

"Nik, stop!" Apollo tried to shout, but the words emerged slurred and distant, as if he were speaking underwater.