Iwas awoken to the sound of scrabbling. Theclick, click, clinkof needles pierced through my veil of exhaustion, and as I blinked open my eyes, a jolt of shock went through me at the heavy darkness. For a moment, I tried to make sense of my surroundings. I wasn’t at home, where the steady glow ofsunstones illuminated my bed even in the deepest part of the night. In fact, this wasn’t a bed at all. A hard rock jammed into my back.
Sucking in a breath, I sat up straight, and it all came flooding back to me.
Tormund needed me to dig him out of his makeshift cave, and I’d fallen asleep!
Bloomin’ fates. When we got through this, he would never let me hear the end of it.
Speaking of hearing…that clicking sound grew louder. It sounded like thousands of miniature pickaxes knocking against the ground. I frowned and squinted into the darkness. It couldn’t be the dragon. She’d light up the whole room with her internal fire glowing beneath her scales.
So, what in fate’s name could it be?
“Hello?” I called out.
More scrabbling answered. This time, it sounded like needles against metal rather than stone.
“The mine carts,” I said in a gasp.
Whatever was happening, it was happening to our beloved carts with all the food and supplies we needed to gain access to the dragon’s treasure. Something—or someone—was in here trying to get to it.
“Oh no you don’t,” I said through gritted teeth. And then, before I could think it through, I slid down the side of the boulder. A cry curdled in my throat as I flailed in the air, arms and legs swinging like flags getting twisted in a particularly harsh breeze. My hair smacked my face, and a loud rip rent the air where my trousers got caught on the rock.
I hit the ground. Feet first, surprisingly. Gods, I was a mess. I reached around behind me to feel the extent of the damage to my trousers—and my pride, if I had to meet the dwarves ofRockheim like this—but I didn’t get a chance to contemplate the severity of the rip.
Because spiders scuttled out of the darkness, surrounding me.
“Hmm.”
There were well over a dozen of them. It was impossible to tell their numbers in the darkness. They looked a lot like my old friend, Daisy, though I didn’t spot him in their midst. We were quite far from his favorite haunts, so he’d likely never even met this crowd. They might not be quite as friendly as him.
Several of them inched closer, their pincers clicking.
I held up my hands. “Listen. I’m just here passing through. I’m sorry if we’ve made a mess of your den, but we’ll clean it all up.” Perhaps I shouldn’t have been aimlessly lobbing rocks everywhere. “No need for any, erm,consuming,if you get my meaning.”
One of them cocked his head, his bulbous eyes glowing with hunger.
“Astrid,” Tormund called out through the rubble, “please tell me you’re not out there speaking to a spider.”
“I’m afraid I can’t tell you that,” was my response.
A tortuous pause followed. “Is it the friendly one you tried to feed me to?”
“That would imply there was only one of them out here,” I said, laughing in hopes it would release the tension in my shoulders.
“Right.” His voice went sharp. “Get out of here and save yourself.”
I watched the spiders, their pincers going wild. They scrabbled around the mine carts and poked at the contents. It seemed they realized it was something interesting but didn’t quite know what to do with it.
“I think they’re just hungry,” I yelled.
“Don’t you dare feed them any moss cakes,” Tormund said. “Those are for the dragon.”
“You have a lot of opinions for someone who wanted me to leave him behind a moment ago.”
“You’re damn right I do. Take the carts, run to the dragon lair, and make your bloomin’ cakes.”
I promptly ignored him.
“Hello, spiders,” I said, approaching the oversized beasts. Surprisingly, they scrabbled away from me, like they were afraid I might hurt them. I couldn’t help but smile. See? They were only hungry. “I’d like to offer you a deal. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
