He squirmed around trying to free himself, when he suddenly felt something digging into his hip. Hard leather. A rough handle.
Veyra.
The memory of her angry, worried face flashed in his mind. "Take it. It's better than that rotting wood. Aim for the eyes."
Sol's hand flew to his waist.
"Not… today," Sol roared, his voice a feral snarl.
He ripped the bone dagger from his belt.
HISS!
The snake struck.
Sol didn't try to dodge. He didn't try to block. He thrust his hand forward, meeting the strike head-on.
SHUCK.
The impact jarred his shoulder to the socket. The sound was wet and sickening.
"Grrrraah!" Sol screamed, adrenaline flooding his veins.
The snake's head stopped inches from his nose. His hand was covered in black, viscous blood. He had driven the bone dagger upward, jamming it into the soft underbelly of the snake's jaw, pinning its mouth shut from the bottom up.
The cobra convulsed. A silent, gargling hiss erupted from its throat.
