Pirates of the Caribbean: The Price of Freedom

counting the hood that flared out on either side, and it was reared up,
its head at least six feet off the floor. The rear half of its body was that
of a scorpion, scuttling along on eight spindly legs, its movements
terrifyingly quick. The barbed, deadly stinger at the end of its
segmented tail was held up, four feet in the air, poised to strike.
Jack had landed in a large, rectangular chamber, not a corridor,
and the cobra-scorpion was moving forward, as though it had come
from the opposite wall. Christophe, sword drawn, was slowly
retreating, waiting to attack until his expected reinforcements arrived.
Seeing the creature, Jack skidded to a halt. He glanced behind
him at the featureless wall, and only then realized he couldn’t be sure
where he’d come through it. Amenirdis, too, faced their venomous
opponent, a bronze dagger in one hand, and her papyrus list of names
in the other. Clearly, a strategic retreat wasn’t uppermost in her mind,
though it certainly had been in Jack’s. Bugger, Jack thought,
disgustedly. I’m the only sane coward in a room full of brave idiots.
Slinging the duffel bag and the coil of rope into a corner, he stood
poised to attack.
“Jacques,” Christophe called. “Be careful. It spits.”
“Wonderful,” Jack yelled back. “Amenirdis? We’d rather not have
to engage with this beastie if one of your names will make it vanish, or
melt, or something.”
“Kashta! Shabako! Piye! Taharka! Amanislo! Apelta!” She
shouted the names, one after another.
“It’s still there,” Jack said, unnecessarily, to the princess.
“Senkamanisken! Analmani! Piankhy! Kasta!”
“Jacques, is there a corner behind me?” Christophe yelled.
“Yes!” Jack shouted. “I’ll go round to the beastie’s left, and get it to
turn toward me, and you go right. Got that?”
“Go!”
Jack raced to his left, and saw the barbed tail with its deadly
stinger flash toward him. He heard liquid splat against a hard surface
and Christophe’s yelp. The cobra head must have spat venom. Even
as he dodged flying poison, Jack half turned and slashed upward and
to the right with his cutlass. He felt the edge of his blade bite into
something hard, then the hardness gave way with a crack, and the