Page 139 of Promise of Darkness
We move out, and Finn leads us directly to a chasm in the side of the mountain ahead. He’s right. Bones hang from charms in the trees, swinging in the wind. Someone’s drilled hollows in them, so as the wind catches them, they give an eerie whistle.
But it’s the spiderwebs that cling to every rock and tree that cause me the main concern.
“What size does a spider have to be to create a web like that?” I hiss as Finn slices through one that bars the way ahead.
“I really, really don’t want to know,” Thalia mutters.
“You’re not the one who’s going to have to find out,” says Eris, looking as grim as I’ve ever seen her.
I eye the sheen of sweat on her forehead. Is Eris—the almighty Destroyer—actually nervous?
“Here we are,” Thiago says as Finn hacks through the last of the webs.
I stare into the cave ahead. Moss hangs over the opening, and spider silk glistens in the late afternoon sunlight. It’s dark and gaping, like the hollow mouth further north that allegedly leads directly into the Underworld.
“Look at me.” Thiago’s hands cup my chin, and he turns my face to his. “I can’t go in there with you, Vi. Not even to save your life. I’ve already been once, and the Morai vowed a second visit would be my undoing. They cannot lie. What they see is bound to come true.” He hesitates. “You don’t have to do this.”
If this is the only way to gain answers, then yes, I do.
This curse isn’t merely a wedge between us, it’s an obliteration of who I am. I want those memories back. I want to be able to look my mother in the eye and ask her why. And I want my magic.
Swallowing hard, I lock down every little scrap of fear that shivers through me and rest my hand on the hilt of my sword. “Spiders? Ha. You know what spiders are afraid of?”
His brows draw together.
“Fire,” I tell him, clicking my fingers and sending a spark into the air. “If I’m not back before nightfall, then give my mother my regards.”
34
The cavern’s enormous, and silvery threads decorate every surface. Moonlight reflects back off droplets of mist that cling to each strand, and as I look up, I see the gossamer threads go all the way to the roof of the enormous cavern above me.
Webs.
The entire cave system is covered in spiderwebs.
On a scale of one to burn-it-fucking-alive, my feelings about spiders are firmly on the flammable end of the scale.
“It could be hundreds of tiny little spiders,” I tell myself as I creep along the passage. Sticky strands burn away before my torch, but I can feel some of them clinging to my hair. “Maybe even a thousand of them.”
It’s not.
I know it’s not, but the art is in tricking your mind into believing it.
The caves lead deep underground, and I follow the main cavern all the way down, ignoring the smaller caves that branch off. Spiderwebs cover their gaping mouths, and I pass numerous dried husks encased in fine silver thread.
Some of them still move.
If I pay the price, then I’ll be safe, Thiago said, and the flask of warm blood—mine—is strapped to my hip.
Down and down we go, until the air is still and cold. The only light is the torch I carry, and I swear I can hear things scuttling in my wake.
But I am not going to think about that right now.
Finally, I reach an enormous cavern that gapes into infinity. In the distance, I can make out a dais where three shadows move against the canvas of an enormous loom coated with spider silk.
He’d warned me about what I’d find, but even so, the reality is grotesque.
The Morai are part spider, part… something else. Their bloated bodies scuttle about on long, spindly legs, though their torsos and faces appear humanoid. The upper arms glisten with spider silk, and their eyes are bound with simple linen. Rumor has it they gouged them out many moons ago, after they glimpsed a future they were never meant to see.
