Page 136 of The Prince's Curse

A woman with tight pincurls turned, showing one side of her face crushed.

Scarlett tried to cry out, but there was only icy water pouring down her throat.

Another red-haired woman, this one in a lovely tailored dress, puffy sleeves stained with blood. Her head tilted as if she recognized Scarlett. She reached out, fingers turning to bloody talons.

Her hand slipped through.

There was a woman with an elegant hairstyle woven around a golden crown, her neck twisted strangely as she smiled.

And then there was the one with the long curls, wild and free as she tried to speak with her slashed throat. A knife protruded from her chest, pouring blood down her pretty blue dress.

Scarlett fell into the black, endless and shapeless and soundless. Each of those reflections called after her—don’t go, don’t fall, don’t trust—but still she fell.

Where was she?

Who was she?

This was all a dream, all in her head, Shoshanna was there and?—

“Shoshanna?” she said.

Her voice fell flat, but her fall ceased. There was no impact, but she suddenly found herself in a void. She wasn’t precisely standing, but she was no longer falling, either. She was simply there, suspended in that great nothing.

“Shoshanna?” she said again. She looked around, down, up—or at least what she thought approximated directions—and found darkness in every direction.

Something had gone wrong.

The tiniest flicker of light illuminated on the horizon. In that faint glow, she saw a tangled web of gray and black, cavernous and massive. The tiniest pull tugged at her foot, and she pressed down to find spongy ground beneath her feet.

The light brightened to a spark that slid along gray threads. Like a signal down a wire, it traveled dizzyingly fast. A soft glow illuminated the web, casting a globe of light all around.

Something massive skittered out of the dark, casting an impossibly huge shadow over her.

She screamed and ran in the opposite direction. Heavy, awkward steps made her feel like she was running in sand. Mid-stride, the thought struck her: this is in my mind.

Take me somewhere beautiful and bright, she thought, squeezing her eyes shut. Opening them again, she found herself in the same dark place.

Nope!

The large thing slammed to the ground in front of her, unleashing a cold wind as it bellowed in her face. Thousands of voices cried out from its mouth, deafening her with words she couldn’t make out. It sounded angry and afraid at once.

She recoiled and backed away. “Shoshanna!” she cried out.

There was a tiny tug at her hand, and she looked down to see herself holding a glass lantern. She was rather hoping for a broadsword, but she raised the lantern, which ignited with a warm yellow glow.

The light illuminated a spider-like creature before her. Its lower body was the size of a house, with awkwardly jointed legs tipped with razor-sharp points. Where a spider’s head might have been, a humanoid torso rose, towering above Scarlett. Its hair was long and tangled, gray and black threads that melded with the web above.

“Hello,” Scarlett squeaked out.

The creature screeched at her again, and she fell back. Cold hands seized her shoulders and hauled her into the air like she was a small child. As she was lifted to those bright silver-blue eyes, the voice rang out again.

One single word was clear.

Leave.

She wriggled in its grasp. “I will gladly leave if you put me down!” she said.

Faceted eyes reflected her face back at her, and she was struck by the visions of the women she’d seen. They were the other versions of her, or perhaps, she was the other version of them, of Brigitte. Those red-haired spirits, doomed to die, danced across those glistening panels to their demise.

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