Page 324 of The Spider Queen
It lowered its head and its beady eyes blinked languorously.
Had I inadvertently traipsed across its lair, rousing it from sleep?
I held up my hands in the universal gesture ofI mean no harm.
The scorpion opened its mouth and emitted the rattling sound I had heard before.
It had me shrieking in fear, and with a burst of energy I hadn’t felt in days, I began to run. The bottoms of my feet sizzled like I was walking across banked coals. With every gallop, the bag slung across my body thumped against me, the jagged edges of the snow globe cutting the skin of my body.
And damn if curiosity didn’t get the best of me: I chanced a look over my shoulder to see if I was outrunning the scorpion.
That’s when its giant stinger stabbed me in the back.
Chapter 23
I went down on top of the bag. I yelled in agony as the snow globe’s broken dome sliced my lower belly. It gutted my organs and my limbs tingled. My body was becoming numb and my lips felt frozen. I tried to turn my head, so I wouldn’t inhale a lungful of sand.
Something flipped me over and I felt the sun on my face.
I cracked an eyelid open, and would’ve cried in fear if I’d had the energy. But all I could do was muster a pathetic whimper. The scorpion hovered over me, its black, glittering eyes glinting in the bright sun.
It had found a meal and it wasn’t taking any chances of letting me get away.
Would it swallow me whole? Would I spend the rest of eternity inside the belly of a beast? Would it be the thing that killed me?
The scorpion’s poison had rendered me immobile, but my brain suffered no such relief. It was still running, completely cognizant about the inevitability of my gruesome end. Somehow, with the last of my strength, I managed to close my eyes. I didn’t need to see my own demise.
Wetness splattered across my face. It went up my nostrils. I was drowning in something tangy and bitter. It coated my tongue and infiltrated my pores.
But I had no choice but to breathe through it.
Arms reached underneath me, lifting me into the air. I was pressed against something cool, but when I tried to open my eyes, they refused to budge.
“Is she dead?” a woman, not the person carrying me, asked.
“No, but she’s been stung. Poisoned.” It was the male who carried me who spoke.
“She looks on the verge of death.”
I would’ve wrinkled my nose and said something to defend myself, but my lips wouldn’t work. Instead, I slid closer to the coolness against my cheek. It felt like metal.
“I wonder how long she’s been wandering through the desert,” the male mused.
“Long enough. Her hair is matted. Her skin is red with burn. We should’ve just left her.”
“You know the rules,” the man said.
She sighed. “My brother will want to see her.”
Finally, I was able to open my eyes. My head was inside a metal container. There was no longer burning grit plaguing my gaze and my eyelids didn’t burn anymore.
A helmet? A metal helmet?
I forced myself to remain still, even though the poison was finally leaving my system. We trekked across the sand, not stopping once, not even as the dunes rearranged.
“We’re going to have to go back out again,” the woman said. “To hunt.”
“Fine,” the man said. “Let’s stop and check on her.”
