Page 45 of The Delver
After drawing another strand from his spinnerets, he reached up and attached it to the roof of the tunnel with sticky silk. He was overly thorough, using more than was likely necessary, but he refused to take chances when Callie’s life was in danger.
Keeping the strand unbroken, he shifted toward the side of the tunnel. The crystal tied to his headcrest cast its soft glow upon the bare stone, leaving erratic shadows on its craggy surface.
Urkot ran his hands over the stone, seeking adequate handholds. As soon as he found some, he drew in a deep breathand pulled himself up. His muscles strained. The punishment they’d endured in the rockfall was too recent, and the brief stop to wash in the stream hadn’t afforded him any rest.
He willed the discomfort away. There was only one way to go, and it certainly wasn’t down.
Urkot planted four of his legs into crevices on the wall and climbed higher. With his rear legs, he pulled out more silk and carefully passed it to his lower arm, attaching it to another point on the wall.
Callie trembled against him, her body tense. She kept readjusting her fingers, digging her nails a little deeper into his hide whenever she did so, as though fearing she’d lose her grip.
Her will to survive was strong, and he feared they would need as much of that strength as they could muster to make it home.
“Good,” he rumbled as he neared the ceiling. “Much good, Callie.”
“It’s fine,” she replied spiritedly. “I’m fine. Not scared at all.”
Urkot knew that wasn’t true, and it only made him admire her more.
Fastening the strand to the ceiling, he hooked his forelegs around it, braced his middle legs against the wall, and used his upper hands to grasp the stone overhead. Slowly, he pulled himself outward, tipping his body horizontally.
“Still fine,” Callie breathed, somehow tensing further as her weight settled atop his torso.
The urge to wrap an arm around her was almost overwhelming. Resisting it certainly didn’t help the strain in Urkot’s body.
He forced himself to breathe slow and steady, holding himself in place as he pulled more silk with his hind legs and passed the slack to his lower hand. Had he not been battered and bruised in the rockfall, he wouldn’t have felt the exertion quite so soon or as thoroughly.
Urkot attached the rope to the ceiling again, a little farther from the wall. He hooked the previous section with his middle legs and carefully moved his forelegs to the next, drawing himself along the ceiling and away from the wall with his hands. His body was now fully suspended, his weight held by the rope.
Callie shifted her head to glance over his shoulder. She immediately buried her face against his neck. He could barely make out her hasty, muffled words.
“Oh God, why did I do that?”
He didn’t have to look to know what she’d seen. Yawning darkness beneath them, like a huge, shadowy beast waiting with gaping jaws for its prey to make a mistake—or tire out—and fall right in.
“Nothing to see,” he said, voice tight as he drew more silk to attach to the next point and create a new section of rope.
“Not funny,” Callie replied.
Chittering, Urkot moved his forelegs forward on the rope, again pulling his torso along. His abdomen burned, the muscles working harder than ever to keep his body straight and level. It almost made the strain in his hands, arms, and legs seem mild.
He tilted his head back to look toward the opening, and his insides twisted. It seemed so far away.
Urkot proceeded, carefully lengthening the rope to support himself, crossing the ceiling one segment at a time. Soon enough, his breaths grew harsher, heavier, and his aches grew deeper and more insistent.
Scalding pulses radiated through his chest and shoulders, his belly and back, his arms and legs. Tremors coursed through his limbs.
“We’re okay,” Callie whispered. “You got this, big guy.”
He felt her heart fluttering against his chest, felt her rapid breathing, felt her trembling and her desperate grip. Felt Callie…and her fear.
Yet despite her fear, he did not doubt her belief and trust in him. And that made a difference. A true, significant difference.
He had given his word that he would protect her, and he would not break that vow. He’d cross a thousand such chasms the same exact way, never stopping, if that was what it took to keep her safe. He would always find the strength to push onward for her…
Because more and more, it was clear that Callie was the greatest source of his strength.
Just a few more segments. That was all he had to cross. A few more segments, and this ordeal would be through. Then they could slow down.
