Page 73 of Heart of Dawn
Prince Dorian sat up, asking ever so politely for some of the golden water. Wendy allowed it and he drank half a canteen’s worth.
“That is glorious,” he declared.
“Really is,” I agreed. “Thank you again for saving my life.”
“Not a problem. But I’m afraid we should be moving soon. Who knows when Dawn’s next attack will come.”
I watched the dark maw of the tunnel entrance, terrified of seeing movement. I chewed on my bottom lip, anxiety crawling over my skin.
“It shouldn’t be much longer,” Wendy said. “Keep praying.”
I did. So, so hard until I saw stars swimming across my vision.
“Our blood might be able fight Dawn,” I said, going into further detail. “Not sure how without draining everyone dry.”
He nodded. “Strange, isn’t it? What’s in our blood?”
I shrugged, wondering if we could fill water pistols with it. Or at least add some drops to the water and fire away.
Hmmm.
What about asking the blood magi to help? There might be some out there who didn’t want to?—
No. Forget them.
To alleviate the following silence, Wendy gave a brief history lesson on the snow spiders.
“They have a life span of two-thousand years. Some even live longer than that. They only have to feed once a century, and their numbers are always small.”
“Until Agatha’s death,” Anya said, “there were eight of us. Now there are seven.”
“Oh. You’re awake?” Wendy asked.
Anya started snoring.
Maybe not.
“Miko? Can you hear me?”
No answer.
“I’m okay now,”I added.
Still no answer.
About three minutes later, one of the cells brightened, the honey glowing beautifully.
“It’s ready,” Wendy said, buzzing jubilantly.
What a relief.
Wendy’s little legs moved quickly, drawing the honey out of the cell. She formed tiny balls resembling the baubles for winter solstice. My mama owned some seriously gorgeous solstice baubles.
“Incredible,” Dorian said.
Yes, it certainly was.
A yeti’s roar ripped through the tunnel, stirring Anya back onto her spider legs. She returned a hiss, the hairs on her body twitching.
