Page 325 of The Spider Queen
The woman made a derisive noise in the back of her throat. “Why? She’s still unconscious. Let’s get home. A storm is coming.”
“It’ll take just a few minutes. And she’s not unconscious.” He paused. “Are you?”
I stilled like a trapped rodent. Then I cleared my throat. “No.” It came out a croak.
The man stopped walking. “We need to give her some water.”
“Don’t order me,” the woman snapped. “I’m my brother’s second in command.”
He sighed.
A canteen was brought to my lips, and I was able to take a few long swallows. I moaned in enjoyment. I hadn’t had anything to drink in days.
“Easy,” the woman muttered. “Don’t want it coming back up.”
I let the water coat my chapped lips and run down my chin. “Thank you.”
She grunted.
They started walking again and I fell asleep, worry fleeing my mind.
I woke up, startled. I’d forgotten where I was and the fact that someone was holding me, so I squirmed. The man almost dropped me, but he tightened his strong arms around me and said, “Easy.”
His voice was just familiar enough to remind me of what had transpired before I’d fallen asleep.
There was no longer the sweltering heat of the desert—we were in some kind of metal contraption with high ceilings. “Where are we?”
“Home,” he said and then fell silent. “Do you think you can walk?”
I nodded, the metal helmet hitting my ears. He set me down and I removed the helmet, taking a gulp of air, which wasn’t cool, but it wasn’t full of grit, either. I took a moment to look up. Dim bulbs lined the metal ceiling.
“What is this place?” I asked.
He took the helmet from me. “It used to be a submarine.”
“Submarine?”
“Yes. The desert was once an ocean.”
My mind was reeling from that pronouncement when he removed his own helmet. His skin was weathered, and he was older than I originally thought with hard lines at the corners of his eyes and chapped lips. Must’ve come from living in the desert.
“How is it not sweltering in here?” I asked.
“Ah, we don’t really know the answer to that,” the man said. His companion, the woman, finally moved to his side, reminding me that she was there. She removed her own helmet and a long blond braid tumbled out. She was tall and had angular cheeks.
Her slanted blue eyes stared at me. “Follow me, girl.”
“I have a name,” I reminded her.
“I don’t care. If you want a bath to wash the scorpion blood off your skin, then you’ll follow me.”
I looked to the man. He shrugged. Clearly I would get no help from him. But I did want a bath. And a change of clothes.
My stomach rumbled, reminding me it had been days since I’d eaten. Under normal circumstances, I could go days without sleep or food, but I was on empty. My super quick healing powers had been used to keep me alive, to tend to my burned flesh and ease the dehydration on my lips. I was completely depleted.
I tramped after the blonde who wasted no time moving through the huge iron capsule. We were in some sort of front room, and there were no signs of other people. She stopped when she came to a heavy iron door with a wheel, which she turned.
“I won’t slow down, so keep up,” she said as she stepped through the door.
