Total pages in book: 179
Estimated words: 169943 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 850(@200wpm)___ 680(@250wpm)___ 566(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 169943 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 850(@200wpm)___ 680(@250wpm)___ 566(@300wpm)
She points at one, and Kipp heads off in that direction. I follow after him, holding my shield up even though it feels as if it’s made of lead at this point. Maybe Lark and I should switch, I muse as we head into the dark tunnel. The ceiling is a little lower here, but nothing we haven’t seen before. I’d rather be navigator, I think, than carry around a heavy shield all day long—
Something brushes against my hair.
I look up, and Lark’s bobbing light illuminates a maze of spiderwebs on the ceiling. Long black legs move, and then my hair twitches again. I raise a hand to the top of my head—and encounter something that shouldn’t be there.
With a shriek, I fling the spider off my head and onto the floor of the cave. It’s the size of my hand, the legs long and disgusting and with hairs so thick even my bad eyes can make them out. Another spider drops onto my shoulder, and then Mereden gives a horrified squeal, knocking one from Lark’s cloak.
“Back!” I scream. “Back the way we came!”
We race from the tunnel, crying out in horror and shaking out our clothes. The lantern bobs, making me dizzy as the light wobbles back and forth. But then we’re back at the fan of tunnels, and I drop my shield, shaking out all of my clothing over and over again in disgust. Hawk did mention he hated spiders. I should have listened. I glance over to see if Kipp has followed, since the rope between us is taut. He emerges a few moments later, a long dark leg disappearing into his mouth.
Eww.
“I think that’s enough for me tonight,” Gwenna says, raking her fingers through her now-loose hair. She shudders. “Can we please just go back to Magpie and decide on our next steps?”
I’m totally fine with that. I nod, and Mereden is in agreement, too. Kipp shrugs, and then puts a rock in the center of the tunnel entrance, marking it. Good idea, though he might be marking it for snacks while the rest of us want to mark it as NO, NEVER AGAIN.
Picking up my shield, I gesture that Gwenna should lead the way now, since she’s at the front of the line, and we head back the way we came. We’re all a little quieter now that the truth of what the tunnels are like is setting in. My thoughts are swirling, comparing the reality of the tunnels with what I had imagined. I’m not disappointed, not precisely…but I can’t help wishing that Hawk was here. Something tells me he’d understand more than anyone else.
Or maybe I’m just making excuses because I really want to talk to him.
When the caverns open back up and we see the faint, distant light of Magpie’s encampment, I realize I’m exhausted. Some of the dampness of my clothing is sweat, as we’ve been hiking through tunnels all day long. Gwenna looks as tired as I am, and Lark and Mereden, too.
“How long do you think we’ve been gone?” Mereden asks. “How do we tell time down here?”
“Well, my stomach won’t stop growling,” Lark says, patting her gut. “And I normally don’t get hungry until well past dinnertime, so I’d say it’s late. I’m ready to eat some shitty rations and go to sleep and…”
She stops, silenced, and I peer around her.
The camp is a disaster. Our bags have been tossed about, our food supplies flung onto the ground. The extra canteens we left behind are sitting in puddles of their contents. Our bedding is gone or slashed to ribbons, our changes of clothing equally destroyed.
Magpie is sprawled, face down, amongst the mess.
“Auntie!” Lark cries, surging forward. Immediately we’re all knocked off our feet—Lark included—as she forgets we’re all still tied together. She crawls forward as we struggle to stand upright again. “Auntie Magpie! Is she dead?”
Gwenna helps Mereden to her feet just as a loud, garish snore echoes in the cavern. “She’s not dead,” Gwenna retorts. “She’s fucking drunk.”
Lark goes to her aunt’s side, flipping her onto her back and shaking her awake. The rest of us focus on untying the ropes, not saying anything.
“Auntie Magpie?” Lark says, tapping her cheek. “Wake up.”
Magpie comes awake with a snort, then rubs her eyes. She rolls out of her blankets, and the sound of empty bottles clank overloud in the cavern. I exchange a look with Gwenna.
“Wh-whuh,” Magpie says, wiping her mouth. She peers at Lark. “Whuh is it? Whuh happened?”
“You tell us! What happened to the camp?”
Magpie sits up, blinking. It takes her a moment to realize our supplies have been destroyed. She picks up one chunk of hardtack and nibbles on it despite the dirt on the cavern floor. “Ratlings, mebbe.”
“Oh, come on,” Gwenna protests. “It’s not ratlings.”
Magpie flops back onto her pallet. “You don’t know that.”