Page 16 of The Crowned Fae Queen
Blinking, I think for a moment before I speak, trying to comprehend where this is going. “Well, I don’t enjoy them or wish to keep the larger ones as pets. What kind of spiders are we talking about? Like man-sized spiders?”
“No, they aren’t big.”
“They,” I repeat.
“They.” He points ahead with one pale and boney finger.
Under a halo of moonlight, like a spotlight to pinpoint the way, the mouth of a cave ripples and moves like the waves of the ocean.
“It’s moving,” I say, squeezing his hand. “More witch magic?”
“It’s not moving.Theyare moving.” His feet pause, and he turns toward me. Taking my other hand in his, he stares me down, speaking calmly. “We will move slowly. The faster you move, the more likely they are to bite you. One step at a time. Keep your mouth closed, unless you like the taste of arachnids. Which I do not.”
The closer I look, the more apparent it becomes that it isn’t a racing tide of magic that sways the structure but the movement of thousands, millions, or even billions of tiny spiders climbing over each other. Across the earth, they cling to the plants that sprout from the tiny blades of grass growing through the dusting of snow. Webs glisten like ghosts in the trees above.
Shit. This is going to suck.
Gulping down the worry that makes my throat tight, I give Miranda my bravest nod. Knowing nothing could be as bad as facing my biggest fear only moments before.
I expect that as we walk through them the arachnids will scatter, fearful of being squashed beneath our boots. Yet they don’t. Sickening pops and crunches of their small armored corpses becoming gore under us fill the air. They rise toward us with every step. Cascading black beady bodies travel over our toes, some daring to travel up our legs.
Inside the mouth of the cave is the bleak eclipse of the unknown. As we near, the spiders multiply, creating a sense of static as they crawl up and over, around and under every crevice or pointing rock.
“Inside, you will not be able to see anything. Keep your hands out in front of you as you walk. We will hit a... wall. Hold your breath and walk through it. I won't let you go.” He reassures me, giving my hand another squeeze.
Together, we creep under the height of the entrance. Long strings I quickly realize are low hanging spiders dangle overhead, like ornaments adorning the ceiling. They shift and shape into odd bubbles of living breathing shadows as the last of the moonlight disappears from view.
Only blackness remains now.
A soft rain I’m trying hard not to register as spiders drips from the cavern’s dome. They touch down against my skin and begin scaling my body. Tiny legs crawling up over the hairs standing up on my arms, burrowing under the fabric of my pants and shirt.
Each muscle becomes rigid as I fight the urge to swat them away. It starts as a tickle as their bodies clamber over my skin. The tickle quickly becomes an itch I can’t move enough to scratch. Spiders creep over every part of me and squirm under my clothing until all I can feel is the overwhelming static from their movement across every plane of my being.
If I didn’t like spiders before, I fucking hate them now.
Slight hairy legs high-step over my lips. I press them together tightly, refusing to allow one bug inside my mouth. It prods me, caressing along my nose as if it’s in love with the idea of suffocating me. All it would take is one big inhale, and the devil would be living in my sinus cavity.
With as much discipline as I’m capable of, I exhale roughly with the air readily available in my lungs. I feel the spider wave in the wind like a flag on its pole, holding on with its hind legs just to weather the storm and cozy against my cupid's bow.
A rough growl builds and rumbles through my chest as I continue forward in frustration. Damn this witch. Damn these tiny little spiders, Damn. Damn. Damn.
Miranda squeezes my hand and before his grip lessens my outstretched arm is swallowed in a wall of writhing, living arachnids and webs. I want to scream in disgust. My mouth is an almost nonexistent line, my breath stalled, as I refuse to let the creatures inside my body.
Faster, Miranda tugs me through the wall. Spiders swarm over my arms and chest, then up over my face in one drowning wave. The worst part is feeling so much movement that I’m not entirely certain if it’s thousands of bugs or one incredibly huge one wrapping itself like a mask over my features. I don’t fucking want to know. Each step forward, my hair clings to the webs behind me, lifting up off my neck and allowing more space for the spiders to find home.
Warmth hits my cheeks. Heated and muggy, a fresh wind of sea-salt breeze begins to wash away the feeling of insects on my skin. I blink my eyes open as the weight of their thin bodies disappear from my eyelashes.
In a black cloud, the spiders swarm back to the wall behind us and into the cave we just emerged from. They leave me and Miranda standing on slick stones under the light of whatever bugs glow dimly atop the ceiling. The air is heavy with mist. My clothes cling to my form, my hair frizzy and damp against my cheeks.
A large pool of black water remains still, the surface smooth and unbroken mere feet away. In the dark, it looks almost like another cave that burrows deeper into the ground. Though as I inch forward, I can see the small reflection of the lights above in its water.
“It’s a hot spring. I know the water looks like the darkest pits of hell, but if you’re thirsty, it’ll do you some good.” Miranda kicks his leg to toss off the last spider that clings to the material. I watch as it lands and darts back to its home.
“Where is the witch?” My words bounce from the walls to the ceiling and echo back in my ears.
Spreading like oil in a hot pan, Miranda doesn’t hide his sly smile or the way his body seems to relax with confidence as he calls out. “Aspasia. I’ve brought you a guest.” He whistles low, his hands finding the heel of his boots as he slips his feet out and removes his socks. Eagerly, he watches the water, cuffing his pant legs nearly up to his thighs. Miranda lowers himself to the edge of the rock, letting the black waters engulf his legs until they are unseen below the surface.
“You can’t just stick your legs in there! You don’t know what lives down there. Monsters live in the water, too, you know.” I drag myself, working to hide how much my leg is bothering me, and reach out slowly to touch the water.
