Page 249 of The Cradle of Ice
She had glimpsed his monstrous form back in the Mouth, but that view had been for less than a breath. Revealed now, his form churned the stomach. His bronze had melted into slag and had only the barest resemblance to a man. He walked on two legs, had two arms, and a head. But that was the only similarity. His mouth was a straight slit and looked newly formed. The metal lips appeared smoother and newer, as if freshly smelted and only formed to speak to these trespassers.
His eyes, though—a glassy blue—matched Shiya’s.
It was in those eyes that the creature showed any reaction to their trespass. Fire shone behind the glass, but it was the burn of frost. The glow was cold and cunning, nearly as inimical as his form. It was as if the spider sought to strip away any residual humanity—both in form and spirit.
As the creature drew nearer, the others backed warily with weapons raised. They all knew Shiya’s strength and speed.
Nyx stood her ground.
As the spider noted her stance, his animosity flared brighter, showing enough humanity to hate. Even his bronze warmed with the restrained fury. “You are the one who broke my hold over the raash’ke, who carried an Axis to my territory.”
Nyx absorbed his words, hearing again that strange term. “Axis? What is that? What did I bring?”
He glanced to Shiya. “As a Root, I held out little hope to capture and imprison a ta’wyn as powerful as her.” A trickle of emotion seeped into him, one of cold satisfaction. “It is a worthy reward for ending the world.”
Nyx stiffened. “What do you mean?”
He motioned to the sphere. Its cradle quaked more violently now, shaking the ground underfoot. His next words were terrifyingly matter-of-fact, spoken with unshakable certainty. “The turubya will tear the world in half.”
The spider tried to smile with its slit of a mouth, as if a rock had discovered amusement. “The irony is that an Axis will do it. I don’t even have to break her to my will. I just needed her.”
Nyx stared over to Shiya in the chrysalis. “You needed a key.”
He considered her words, then nodded. “I could never have accomplished it on my own. Not as a Root. I needed an Axis. And you brought her to me.”
Nyx resisted the guilt that tried to rise, refusing to let it numb her.
“It must be done,” he intoned gravely. “The turubya is anathema to anyone but the Rab’almat. No one else can wield it. Not you, not your Axis. It is done.”
A measure of exhalation had entered his voice, a glorious terror.
Nyx watched his bronze flow and churn across his body. His mouth dissolved and re-formed, only to fade again. Nostrils drilled into a skull and swept away. She backed from the horror of it all.
“Can this sphere truly break the world?” Graylin whispered to her.
Krysh answered, “We came here to seek a way to set the world to turning. If such power exists in the Wastes and is now corrupted, I would believe him.”
“Then how do we stop him?” Jace said. “Back at the Crèche, Shiya mentioned that her form could be melted in the molten seas. Could we get one of the raash’ke to carry this monster out the dome and drop him into one of those fiery canyons outside? Maybe if he’s destroyed, it’ll release Shiya.”
Krysh nodded. “It’s worth trying.”
Unfortunately, the plan was heard, and a mouth re-formed. “Such a destruction would result in the immediate and catastrophic failure of the turubya.”
Again, this statement was spoken with an icy certitude, with no sense of dissemblance or lie.
Rhaif grimaced. “We probably don’t want that to happen.”
Nyx turned to the spider—or the Root, as he called himself. “When?” she pressed him. “Without interference, when will the turubya trigger this cataclysm?”
The Root melted his bronze enough to turn his face toward the rise of the sphere. His gaze ticked to the arc of the trembling crystal, to the vibration of the bronze suspensions, to the rocking of the thick cradle. His legs absorbed the floor’s tremoring, which rippled up through his bronze. He turned his eyes on her, cold with certainty.
“In less than a quarter day,” he said.
Nyx went cold.
We don’t have even until morning.
She moved closer to him, seeking words to dissuade him.
