“That’s not alarming,” mumbled Eyvind, turning in a wide circle. Glowing red eyes watched on, and if Hekla hadn’t thought the woods eerie enough before, now she certainly did.
“Blades,” Hekla commanded, unsheathing her sword while eyeing the ravens. But the birds merely watched as their group approached the Forest Maiden’s grove.
“Do you hear that?” Thrand asked, casting a nervous look over his shoulder.
Hekla’s ears strained, but all she heard was the increasingly loud rush of the stream beside them—was there a waterfall nearby?
“I cannot hear it,” said Hekla.
“There it is again!” exclaimed Thrand. “It’s like aclackclackclack.”
Kritka lifted his face from where it was buried in Hekla’s neck and released a flurry of squirrel nonsense.
Thrand nodded vehemently at the chittering sound. “Aye, small warrior.”
Then Hekla saw it. Prickles rushed down her spine as she stared in disbelief. A gleaming silken web stretched across the path, blocking their way into the grove.
And at last she heard what Thrand had—a rapid series of clicks that could belong to none other than the enormous wolfspider who called himself Gjalla.
The Turned ravens surrounding them began to caw.
“Shield wall!” Hekla shrieked, but it was too late. Gjalla charged out of the woods and lunged at the rear guard. Massive, gleaming fangs impaled the warrior as though he was not wearing the finest armor.
Kritka leaped from her shoulder and cocked his head to the side. Magic shuddered through the air, the scent of wet dog filling her senses. The squirrel’s limbs elongated, his russet fur shifting to gray. And where a moment ago a squirrel had been was now a grimwolf the size of a small horse.
Eyvind was suddenly by her side, Gunnar on the other, and Hekla forgot all about avoiding them. Their group formed a loose shield wall, protecting them from an overhead attack. Hekla scrambled to form a plan. They were roughly twenty warriors against the spider, but they’d walked right into his trap. Trees were tightly packed on either side of the trail, and the beast of a spider obstructed the path they’d been traveling. She glanced over her shoulder, where retreat was blocked by the thick, sticky web.
“Can you blast that web away?” Hekla asked Eyvind from the corner of her mouth.
“Not without risking the Forest Maiden’s tree beyond it,” he shot back.
Gjalla quickly flung the rearguard warrior aside, then advanced. With the spider’s missing forelegs, the beast’s gait was lumbering.
Gjalla has waited many days for you to come,chittered the spider inside Hekla’s mind.Soon you will be trussed in our web, waiting for our mother to Turn you. She wants you in her army, clawed mortal.Thespider clicked disapprovingly.She thinks your strength would be useful to her cause.
“I’d rather die than be used as the leech’s doll,” muttered Hekla.
Kritka’s lips pulled back in a savage snarl, and Hekla urged him mentally to hold back for now. “We must target the underbelly,” she told their group quietly.
“It is too dangerous,” Eyvind replied.
Of course it was dangerous—they’d have to get directly beneath the spider. But what else could they do?
Their conversation was cut short as the spider let out an earsplitting shriek and jabbed forward. A fang struck Hekla’s shield with such force that she stumbled back, fortified, thankfully, by the warriors behind her. But her shield had cracked clean through, and Gjalla’s other fang had struck another of Eyvind’s warriors. Kritka shrieked, lunging at the spider’s fang, but the creature was too quick. With a gleeful chitter, Gjalla hefted the warrior into the air. Blood spattered down on the shield wall as the man screamed in anguish, wriggling to get free.
The ravens cawed as horror and revulsion churned in Hekla’s stomach, her mind splintering much like her shield. Gjalla flung the warrior at their group with tremendous force, driving men to their knees as the bones of the dying warrior crunched.
Protect the Forest Maiden, Hekla ordered Kritka,and try to rid us of that web. She was relieved when the grimwolf obeyed without protest.
Cries rose up as Gjalla surged down, fangs scrabbling against shields while the force of the spider crushed them. Hekla frantically searched for a plan, but they were trapped between the spider and his web; she noticed only the crash of water from what had to be a nearby waterfall.
A waterfall.
Hekla focused with all her might, spinning a plan together. They could not flee into the forest without breaking their shield wall, yet they needed a diversion. Could she? No. It was a ridiculous, dangerous idea.
But Gjalla fell upon their huddle again, fangs piercing through another wooden shield and into a warrior’s chest. Gunnar tried to capitalize on this moment of distraction, slamming his sword between the shields. Yet his blade connected with tough carapace, and Gjalla yanked the other warrior free from their group.
They were trapped on this trail in shield wall formation. Were being picked off, one by one. This could not continue. She could not let Gjalla reach the Forest Maiden. Hekla took a deep breath, then spoke to Kritka in her mind.
