Page 45 of A Crown So Cursed
“Is that possible?”
Esme’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “Everything is possible with Arachne’s weaving.”
“Will she do it? She?—”
“Shehadto call the guards, Gwendolyn. If she had not, she would have sealed her own fate. It wasalwaysthe plan to hand you over to Aengus without a fight. You cannot have imagined we would ever allow you to march into that hall wielding demands and a sword?”
Gwendolyn sighed. “But if that was ‘the plan’ all along, why didn’t you save me the trouble and hand me over from the beginning, instead of leaving me to ferret my way through this wilderness of stone?”
“Everything happened as it should,” Esme avowed, moving with feline grace from step to step, from ledge to ledge, and path to path. “At any rate, if Arachne knows what is good for her, she’ll do as we ask. No good will ever come to her if Elric seizes the throne.”
“Is that possible?”
“Yes. Why do you think I sought Málik’s father so relentlessly? Your lover was out of his mind, without direction. Meanwhile, Elric was busy wooing the Shadow Court. I returned with Málik, but he did not realize. I was here only a few days before I realized something must be done about Elric.”
“Twenty-two years is a long time to be gone,” Gwendolyn allowed.
“In mortal years,” Esme said. “But at any rate, it took me a long time to find him, and then a longer time to convince him to even speak to me. Elric holds some dark secret over the Banished Wyrm, and whatever it is, he did not wish for Málik to learn it.”
“What do you think it could be?”
“I don’t know,” said Esme. “Everyone has secrets,” she allowed. “His father should be the one to choose whether to share his. We’re almost there,” she said, as the path curved around a bend, then abruptly ended in another slick, uneven stairwell—this one, thankfully shorter. Esme took the lead, descending quickly, and Gwendolyn noted the air perfumed with the scent of something sweet—what was that?
“Where are we? What is that smell?”
“It is the pathtothe Old City,” Esme explained. “No one ever uses it anymore. However, the way to Arachne’s lair is shorter this way, and no one will consider you might know the way, much less how to navigate these corridors. And… the smell… it’s from a plant only found at these depths.”
They continued their descent; the light dimming as they moved deeper underground. The air grew cooler, but somehow sweeter with the scent.
“Arachne uses it as bait.”
Gwendolyn thought about the pile of bones she’d spied in Arachne’s lair and shuddered—not because of the chill.
She also remembered the sickeningly sweet scent of the Rot and wondered if this could be the same.
What travelers wandered so deep into the Underlands?
She thought of knockers and miners and wondered what role knockers played in the miners’ disappearances. And was this where they ended?
And more specifically, in Arachne’s pile of bones?
Their banter faded as the path before them grew more precarious, and Gwendolyn feared they would meander for days, when the spider’s lair suddenly appeared. She knew it for the massive, silvery webs that covered the entrance, the glimmering strands catching the light and refracting it in mesmerizing patterns.
“Art ready?” Esme whispered.
“Yes,” Gwendolyn said nervously.
But really, was she?
“Very well. Let us go visit our eight-legged friend.”
The instant Gwendolyn and Esme crossed the threshold of her lair, Arachne skittered from the shadows, her eyes glinting not with malice, but with an unexpected warmth.
“Welcome, Daughter of Two Realms! Welcome!” she said. “Once again, I’ve been expecting you.” Her countenance was beautiful as ever, with her long black hair and eyes heavily painted with kohl. Despite that, as lovely as she was, she was a terrifying blend of human and arachnid, with six woolly legs and two human arms protruding from human shoulders. She moved to hug Gwendolyn and, as alarming as the thought might have once been, Gwendolyn not only allowed the embrace, but returned it.
“I am sorry for betraying you to Aengus,” said Arachne, as she squeezed, hard—so hard that Gwendolyn feared she would pop!
“No need,” said Gwendolyn, with a heartfelt sigh. “I understand.” If all things were connected, it applied no less to circumstance. She was beginning to understand every piece of this vast puzzle. Even Arachne’s betrayal had been an act of kindness.
