Total pages in book: 204
Estimated words: 193124 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 966(@200wpm)___ 772(@250wpm)___ 644(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 193124 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 966(@200wpm)___ 772(@250wpm)___ 644(@300wpm)
I land in a tumble, rolling on the slick, wet pavers—
As I go to jump out of the momentum, there is a spider right in front of me.
The beast opens its mouth and starts to send out a silken thread. Whipping the torch up, I send the flames forward, and there’s an instant response to my mental command, a great burst of fire licking forth.
The spider squeals and backs away, but it’s too late for him. The arachnid is done for, the stench of burning hair and flesh wafting over as the spindly beast tries to escape what’s consuming it. There’s no time for triumph. Another takes its place. And another. And—
I wave the torch in a circle, and will the flames to form a barrier around me. Somehow, this works and as I go forward, the webs that are sent my way sizzle into black smoke as they’re consumed by the billowing barrier. I try not to think of how many are upon me, the whole of the colony called out, great, streaking lines of spiders flowing toward me, an evil tide.
When I arrive at the goddess statue, I see that she’s standing on a temple that forms her base. The single-floored building is in tatters, all of its columns collapsed, as if it’s given way under the great weight of the stone above. I’m going to have to find a way into it, and can only hope there’s an access point somewhere, although I’m worried about whether trying to figure my way around will make me lose the coverage of my flames: The spiders are constantly testing for lapses in the fire field, their silk forays coming from all angles—and I pray they can’t hop, because if one got on top of me, I’d lose my concentration and then for certain they’d all be on me.
Glancing up to the goddess’s stained and cracked robing, I visualize her palm and remember the beam of red light.
The Queen of the South Kingdom’s ruby is what sits there. That enormous stone is what catches that slice of sunlight that swings through the spires at a specific angle at a specific time, the refraction causing the temple and surrounding environs to change color.
And hypnotize the spiders.
I don’t know how it got there, who put it there, or why. All I care about is getting the gem down—and for that, now I need to go up—
Through the licking, dancing flames, I see a better path to the statue’s bottom. Starting off with care, instead of trying to navigate an interior that might well collapse right on me, I mount one of the fallen columns and travel up its tilted, ridged flank. The going is tricky because of the carved fluting and the fact that everything is wet and slippery from the humidity, but I keep my balance and link up with another one that’s angled into an intersection. My soft-soled slipper shoes help, my toes gripping at whatever contours they can find to hold on to, my free arm out to the side for counterbalance.
The whole time, I pray that this pick-up-sticks arrangement is not disturbed by my weight. If any of the columns start rolling? I’m going to be crushed—if I’m lucky.
Except I’d rather go out that way than face the spiders.
It’s not long before I reach the temple roof’s decorated railing, and as I duck under it and look up, it’s hard not to get defeated. The goddess’s hand might as well be in the stars, and there’s mist all around her, swirling on currents as water encircles a drain. Meanwhile, the horde is following my ascent like coyotes on a rabbit. Forced to keep their distance by my circle of flames, the spiders nonetheless stay right on me, and I have a moment of pure panic as I realize that even if I secure the stone, I’m going to have to get down, somehow.
And then get out of the ruins.
“Forward, never back,” I grit as I look up once again.
That’s when I see the staircase.
Through the marble spindles of yet another broken railing, inside a circular space revealed by more columns that have fallen from their bases, there are a set of marble steps.
“Fates … thank you.”
I have to fight through debris—and a couple of the goddess’s fallen toes, which are the size of my entire body—to get over to the stairway, and I’m careful to keep the biggest part of my brain occupied with retaining my fire wall as I go. Finally, I’m at the steps and I don’t waste time assessing the ascent. I start running upward, or at least, trying to. In the enclosed, narrow space, webs are everywhere, the silken strands clinging to my shoulders, my hair, my feet, until I’m pulling them along with me like the train on a wedding dress. I have a worry that some of the spiders who are behind me will try to grab on and yank me back—