Page 247 of Eldritch
He wriggled in the cocoon and let out a growling, moaning sound.
Slow and guarded steps carried me backward, away from him, and I kept on, scanning over the webs for whatever creature had spun them. The deeper I ventured into the tree, the thicker the webbing. Another cocoon stood off in the distance and as I made my way there, I caught movement out of the corner of my eye.
A shadow shifted overhead, and I lifted my gaze to find hundreds of eyes watching me. Shallow breaths stuttered out of me as I tore at the cocoon quickly and in three quick slashes, confirmed the body held within wasn’t Zevander’s.
The spider didn’t stir when I backed myself away and kept on.
When I turned back to my path, my breath hitched. Dozens of cocooned bodies hung from the web, none of them giving any indication of who might be inside. I clawed at the first three, panic rising into my throat, as none of them revealed Zevander’s face. I swiped my claw across another, splitting it open at the face to reveal Ms. Yarbrough. Like Mr. Thurman, her eyelids lifted to show black, bulging eyes and she hissed, chattering her sharp teeth.
The hissing seemed to stir the other cocoons, because they too wriggled and hissed—a terrifying symphony that coiled around my spine.
As I backed away, the web caught in my hair. Hands flailing to get loose, I managed to tangle my arm in the silken strands, and lifting my gaze to see the spider inching its way toward me, I clawed at the webbing with my gloved hand, setting my arm free.Breath shuddered out of me as I darted away from it and when I turned, I found Zevander.
Arms and legs outstretched, but not cocooned, he hung trapped in the webbing.
I bolted toward him, dodging the stringing bits of sticky webs, fear quickening my strides.
“Zevander!” I whisper-yelled, tearing away endless layers of the web that secured his wrists and ankles.
He didn’t so much as twitch in response.
The sensation of being watched prickled the back of my neck again, and I spun around. My heart caught in my throat as I stared up at the massive figure towering over me, his tessellated skin and crooked antlers springing forth terrifying memories. The creature in the woods.
The wrathavor.
“Hello, Maevyth,” He spoke in a voice too human, too articulate for monsters, yet even so, the tearing sound of Uncle Riftyn’s flesh echoed inside my mind. He tipped his head toward Zevander. “You found each other. How lovely.” With his bony, branch-like hands behind his back, he crept closer, and I backed up a step, maintaining distance between us. “I do not believe we’ve formally met.”
“Release him,” I commanded with a faltering crack of my voice, ignoring his comment.
“He is at peace, I can assure you. Dreaming of you.”
“I know what you want with him. You led us to the vein to strengthen him so you could use him to burn the Umbravale down.” I steeled my muscles and met his gaze, refusing to look away. “I will not allow it. You will have to kill me.”
The slightest curve of his ruined lips told me the threat amused him. His gaze drifted upward, trailing over the webs. “Do you know what resides in this tree?” He didn’t give me an opportunity to answer. “A god. An ancient power that couldpluck you from this world like the soft petal of a rose.” Fingers outstretched toward me, he stepped forward, as if to touch me, but I jerked back. “You are delicate and fragile. But beautiful.”
“You’re forgetting roses have thorns.”
A deep, languid chuckle rolled out of him. “Yes. And what a tragedy, how quickly you wilt and die. Mortality is…depressing. But I can offer you everlasting life. Power.” He waved his hand and a soft tickle across my skin drew my attention to the dress I’d worn seconds ago, as it faded away to be replaced by an elaborate, rose dress. Something itched above my brow, and I scratched there, pricking my finger on a thorny object that sat atop my head. I palpated it. A crown of thorns? When I lowered my arms, skinny black vines and roses covered them.
“Bond with my blood and you can have both of us,” he said.
My lips twisted in repulsion.
“Ah. Forgive me.” His body twitched and contorted, bones pushing against the bark-like skin, splintering and crackling, until he took the form of a more terrifying face.
A distorted version of Moros smiled back at me and the sensation of a thousand insect legs crawled over me. “Is this more satisfying?”
“What do you mean,both of you?” I asked, the tension in my throat squeezing my words.
“He and I share this curse. Our lives are entwined as one. I feel what he feels. I love what he loves.”
“You’ve no idea what love truly feels like. The sacrifices. The pain.”
“Show me.” He stepped around me, as if trying to maintain the invisible boundary between us. “Become our queen.”
“I would sooner die,” I gritted out.
“And you will. Or…I can delay your demise.” A tickle at my scalp rattled my nerves and I swatted on instinct, but he quickly moved away. “You are what gives him purpose.”
