Page 60 of A Light So Blinding
The legs of the beast were longer than any he’d seen. With fine hair dusted all over them, they helped move her massive form carefully. Right in front of his face, a spinneret the size of a sword waved in the air before she walked a little farther away.
“We need more webs,” the spider muttered, one of her massive legs reaching between the others to pull silk out of her spinneret. “More webs mean more food.”
“You’re wasting your time,” the other said, one massive talon waving above their heads. “Rest. Conserve energy for when there is food.”
“We haven’t had food in ages.”
Bjorn watched as she wove a complicated net and then ducked deeper into the undergrowth when she turned to climb back up the tree. If he wasn’t careful, they were going to realize where he was. And considering how much they were talking about food, that could end very poorly for him. He wasn’t even certain he could fight something that large.
He touched the knives at his side, knowing they wouldn’t be enough to fight these creatures if he had to. The weapons weren’t long enough to even break through those tough hides. He needed toleave, but as the massive spider belly moved past his sight, all he could do was stare at the beauty of the webbing that was now in front of him.
That was what it was. The orbweaver webbing wasn’t sticky like a normal spiderweb. Their webs were long cords, thin, butimpossibly strong. You could saw through them with a knife, but they wouldn’t stick together.
He’d stolen some of those threads for his mother. As a teenager who was dared to go into the forest, he had run through it and gathered as many pieces of that webbing as he could. She’d crocheted a miniature web out of them, winding the threads into knots, and hung tiny crystal beads off of them to look like droplets of water hanging off the web.
This was perfect.
This was... everything.
Astrid deserved to be covered in gossamer weavings with tiny drops of diamonds decorating the entire dress. She’d look beautiful in a dress like that. Beautiful in a way that he could never replicate, but he now desperately wanted to try.
Be a troll husband, his mother had bid him.
And so he would.
With a deep, steadying breath, he raced out of his hiding place. This would take more than just precision. It would take every ounce of his speed, his effort, his energy. He ran through the clearing to the sound of the spiders gasping in surprise. He sliced through the first strand, yanking it out of the ground where the female had attached it. Then another.
There were five strands in this clearing alone, each of them anchoring the webs that made up the spider’s home above him. Their anger and rage filled the clearing as he darted from it, leaping over fallen logs and coiling the threads around his elbow and up to his hand as he bolted. The nests were easy to find when he was now looking for them. He could see them in the trees, and how they were anchored.
Was he ruining their homes? Yes. But he wasn’t going to stop now.
He continued, running through the forest and dodging the angry legs that speared down at him from above. One got closeenough that he felt the needlelike hairs pierce through the skin of his arm. He’d have to pick those out later, but for now, he would ignore the sharp sting. He just had to get an armful of these strands and then he’d be able to make a dress worthy of her beauty.
“Rage!” a spider female screamed above his head. “Intruder!”
His breath sawed in and out, his heart thundered in his ribcage, but the fear that had gripped him was no more. This was what he was good at, what he’d always been good at. Hunting, seeking, adventuring—this was as much part of his soul as anything else.
And when he’d gathered enough of the silk, he ran free from the forest. There were at least fifteen spiders trailing him now. The sound of their thundering steps as they ran through the forest after him was enough to put all the hairs on his arms on end. He was so close.
The sound of wind whistling over his head made him duck. He tripped, flying through the air and certain he was about to be devoured by snapping jaws that would tear into his flesh with ease.
Bjorn rolled into the sunlight. He palmed his blade, turning onto his side and holding it toward the massive spider that lurched onto its back legs, screeching as the light burned the many eyes dotted across its face.
Breathing hard, he stared as it slunk back into the darkness. It was breathing heavily, glaring at him along with the many, many others who had gathered along with it. They all remained at the edge of the forest, drool falling off their fangs in wet plops.
He held up the bundle of threads that he had stolen, brandishing them like the treasure they were. Breathlessly he called out, “My troll wife thanks you!”
They were already muttering about rotting corpses and hanging him up by his toes.
But he’d done it. He’d proven himself worthy of the material to make a dress that many troll wives would dream of for years to come once they saw his wife wearing it.
Now, he just had to make it.
Twenty-Three
Astrid
Astrid was getting antsy. No one would tell her where Bjorn was, or why it was taking so long for him to come back. A part of her wondered if he was dead. He’d disappeared into the forest, and she had no idea what his anger would lead him to do. He’d proven himself to be slightly unhinged when it came to others.
