Page 32 of Queen of the Night
I’m reminded of how she caught sight of my mark paining me when I was her bounty, and it seems she’s more aware than ever. She looks at me a moment longer, then appears to accept my response and returns her attention to Rupi.
I stare through the spindly tops of the trees, catching sight of the second sun beginning to set. With the further blackening of my mark, my thoughts turn to my kingdom and my father. He was a good man, an honorable king, and well-loved by our people, but the way he did things won’t work anymore. I recall the disapproval shown by the low kings at the last council and cringe when I think of how they’ll react when they hear of my wedding and bridging with a Black Tulip. All I can hope is that they will see the needed changes and the good a Queen of the Night will bring our kingdom and offer their support—same for the citizens who’ve been taught to hate the Black Tulips. It will take time, I’m sure, for my people to adjust, but if things go according to plan we’ll have plenty of time after we bridge.
I find myself habitually scanning the forest between stitches. My magic usually alerts me when gloam creatures are near. I sense them, but it’s difficult in a forest such as this where gloam is, literally, everywhere. So when I hear a few quiet clicks that don’t fit with the forest around us, I tense, listening. My first instinct is to protect Vera, but I hesitate to alert her unnecessarily. What if it’s nothing? Many of the sounds in this forest are concerning and don’t amount to anything.
After hearing nothing further, I relax the smallest bit and return to repairing my armor—a little faster now with the urgency to get it back on. Vera is still distracted, now sitting in patchy grass while Rupi hops over her legs, appearing oblivious to my concern.
A series of unsettling clicks meets my ears, and my eyes rest on the shadows just behind Vera. Do they appear deeper than they should? I squint as I search the darkness. It only takes seconds for me to recognize what it is. Is it too much to hope that we aren’t its target? My heart drops.Weare not the target;Verais. The deepening darkness of the twilight sky helps hide its large form in the trees. It seems as much as I can senseit, it seems to sense my recognition, and immediately eight long legs skitter across the earth, the only sound the popping of its oversized joints as it scuttles toward us. I attempt to pull magic to increase my eyesight, but find that there’s no lucent to pull without Vera’s help. I curse. For some inexplicable reason, the woman attracts trouble like no one I’ve ever seen, and I feel the strongest drive to keep her safe, to sacrifice myself for her, even. More than I’ve ever felt for an individual person.
I regret tossing my armor to the side, but if I have to choose between armor and sword, it’ll always be my sword. So when the velvet widow jumps, without a second thought, so do I, brandishing my weapon and blocking Vera with my body as my weight falls on her. Her yelp of surprise is muffled beneath me, combined with a smothered smatter of panickedcheepsfrom Rupi. I feel the instant when my sword and the spider’s pincers simultaneously find their mark. I pull the magic that Vera offers as my sword slides into its underbelly at the same time its venomous pincers strike the vulnerable flesh at my neck.
The spider hisses in pain, and I shout as an excruciating burn runs through my bloodstream while the venom does itswork. I yank my sword out, attempting to get another stab in, but within seconds, my grip loosens without my permission. My arm falls to the ground, limp, my sword hitting the dirt with a dull thud. In mere seconds, I’m completely paralyzed. My throat tingles and numbs, and I try not to panic when it feels like I may even suffocate.
The spider backs up for a moment, and I think that maybe my single stab took care of it, and I only need to wait for the paralyzing venom to wear off—I thought wrong. The spider visibly regains its strength and returns, this time with rope-thick spider silk wrapping efficiently around my ankles, feet, and calves.
Vera squirms out from beneath my dead weight with a rumpled Rupi perched on her head, her feathers askew, eyeing the spider’s backside with wariness. She promptly flutters into the nearby treetops while Vera kneels beside me and holds my face in her hands.
“Why aren’t you moving?” I can sense her panic, and her high-pitched whisper-yell has caught the spider’s attention. It pauses its wrapping of my limbs.
I can’t respond. My vocal cords won’t work. But my eyes still do.
I attempt to look to the side to motion for her to run before the spider turns around. She must get the message because she’s up and running in a second, disappearing into the darkness.
The spider continues twining her rope silk in layers until it reaches the backs of my knees, then I’m hoisted into the air by my feet, dangling like a lifeless piece of bait. I swing from the widow’s thread, arms swinging uselessly above my head, and watch our camp disappear from view while hoping that Vera makes it without me.
Chapter 20
Vera
Iscan the deep shadows of this dark, inky cave, crouched down and creeping as silently as I can with Ikar’s enormous sword in my grasp. Rupi chirps disapprovingly when it bangs against the wall for the fourth time.
“You try carrying it. It’s blazing heavy.” I defend myself, feeling sweat gather beneath my clothing. “He’ll never know if we don’t tell him.” I raise an admonishing brow at her where she perches on my shoulder.
She narrows her eyes the smallest bit, and I’m struck all over again how devoted my bird is to a man who’s much too close to the high king.
“You shouldn’t care for him like you do,” I warn.
By the way she looks at me, we both know the words aren’t just for her.
I refocus on the path ahead, stepping across the moist floor carefully. I debated for about thirty seconds if I should wait for Darvy and Rhosse to return to camp to help, but I decided that if I didn’t follow the spider we might never find Ikar, and I’m not willing to risk losing him. Now I’m glad I did. The entranceis nearly impossible to find, and I never would have located it if I hadn’t trailed the spider. I never got close enough to actually catch sight of it, but I could hear the popping of its legs far ahead, which are ridiculously fast for its size. I lost it once it entered a hidden hole through a grassy hillside, and now I’m left to pick my way through the dark, echoing cavern on my own.
I hold an orb of bright white light in my hand, but it casts eerie shadows off every bump and crevice. The scent of wet rock overwhelms my senses, and something else hovers on the edge—like rot. I gag. Rupi tried to stay behind when I found the entrance, perching in a tree and attempting to wish me good luck with a couple of firm chirps and a ruffle of her quills, but I finally convinced her back to my shoulder, where she currently trembles in all her spiky splendor against my neck. I wince when she shuffles and my neck gets stabbed, again. I’m still grateful to have her with me, though—this place is beyond creepy.
The cave eventually widens into an open space filled with all lengths of strange rocky growths growing from the ground and dropping from the ceiling in odd shapes. Chilled drops of water cling to the tips, growing heavy before falling on my head and shoulders as I walk beneath them. The drips echo around me, amplified eerily by the cavern walls.
I follow iffy rock paths that grow thin, bridging gaps between endless deep-black recesses beneath. An instinctive scream tears from my throat when I slip and reach out with my free hand, grabbing the only thing that seems likely to hold my weight and that of Ikar’s sword—one of the long slimy rocks. The sound of the thinnest part cracking as I pull myself up and away from the cavernous space below leaves my heart racing and my breath shaky. I eye my situation warily while wipingmy free hand along my trousers. The other clammy hand grips Ikar’s sword like a vise.Maybe it didn’t come this way. Would these fragile bridges even hold the weight?I eye the thickness of one across the way.Doubtful.
I almost turn back, but stop, positive I heard something besides the incessant dripping. I turn my head and focus completely on listening. Rupi lifts her head from where it was tucked beside a wing, her trembling easing.
“You hear that, too?”
She shoots from my shoulder in a blur of white and takes off down the dark cavern. I didn’t think her night vision was that great, but half a minute later she comes flying recklessly back through. She flaps around my face, and I can’t tell if she’s overwhelmed with panic or excitement, but I figure either one means she’s found Ikar.
I set my shoulders and forge ahead, more aware now of the slippery, occasionally sloped, surface beneath my boots. I reach the opposite end of the cavern and find two paths leading in different directions. All I can hear is the same steady dripping now. I stop for a moment, but Rupi continues flying down the cave to the right, and I follow.
“Ikar?”
It comes out sounding like I shouted with how my voice bounces off the walls. I cringe, crouching a little lower on the dark path as I wait for a pack of venomous bats or some other sort of horrid creature to come flying at me in irritation for the disturbance. I don’t even know if there are such things as venomous bats in these caves, but there’ssomething. There always is. Or, with my luck, the spider will hear. Nothing comes, but I do get a response.
