Chapter 40
Chapter Forty
HOOK
Spiders. Of course it’s fucking spiders. Because what else would this bloody place throw at us?
They’re the size of dogs, their legs clicking against the webs they weave so easily, spinning some deadly prison around us. One of their bulbous heads gets too close, and I swat it away with a curse. “Perfect. Just bloody perfect.”
I’ve got my dagger, but it feels about as useful as a toothpick right now. I step back, pulling Alice with me. She flinches at the touch but doesn’t say anything—too busy staring at the eight-legged nightmares closing in.
“We need to go,” she whispers, her voice trembling.
“You don’t say?” I glance down at her, catching her eye.
Her glare is sharp, and I half expect her to snap at me, but the skittering legs of the spiders cut the moment short. Their clicking fills the silence, setting my teeth on edge as I edge us sideways. Maybe, just maybe, we can slip past one of the smaller ones without drawing too much attention.
Alice, naturally, missteps. She backs straight into a sticky web stretched between two trees. She gasps, tugging at the strands as they tangle around her arms and shoulders. The more she struggles, the worse it gets.
“Bloody brilliant,” I growl, stepping forward. My dagger slices through the web, freeing her, but the force sends her straight into me. I catch her instinctively, her body pressed against mine for a fraction too long. Her wide eyes meet mine, her breath coming fast.
“Not exactly the time or place,” I murmur, raising an eyebrow.
She pulls back sharply, yanking herself free. “Don’t flatter yourself,” she snaps, straightening her dress and gesturing to the right. “This way.”
I’m about to argue when a low, grating hiss behind us cuts through the air. I turn, and there it is—the biggest spider yet. Its fangs glisten with venom, its multiple eyes fixed on us with unnerving focus.
Alice inhales sharply, her hand gripping my sleeve.
The thing moves toward us, its legs arching and twitching like it’s savouring the moment.
“Oh, so now you’re leading?” I throw Alice a dry glance.
“Yes, now,” she says, her voice firm in a way that almost surprises me. She takes off running, and there’s no time to argue. I follow, our boots pounding over the soft moss and twisted roots.
We dodge through the trees, their branches clawing at us as the monstrous spider barrels after us. Smaller ones scuttle alongside her, their clicking legs echoing in the shadows.
I glance back. The queen spider—because of course there’s a fucking queen—is relentless, her massive legs crushing everything in her path. Bones litter the ground, some half-hidden in webs, swinging like grotesque ornaments.
Biting back a curse, I pick up my pace, nearly shoving Alice ahead of me.
“Alice, watch out,” I shout as she stumbles over a root. She catches herself and keeps running, but I shove her sideways anyway, just as a smaller spider lunges for her.
“What the hell, Hook?” she yells, scrambling back to her feet.
“No time for apologies. Get up and run.” I grab her hand and pull her with me.
The queen spider screeches, the sound rattling through the forest. Her pace quickens, her minions clicking and chittering in a frenzy.
Something changes. A faint light flickers from Alice’s hand, warm and strange. It’s so faint I almost miss it, but the queen doesn’t.
She recoils with another ear-piercing screech, her many eyes narrowing.
And then she speaks.
“Alice.”
The way she drags out the name, lisping and rasping, makes my skin crawl.
“You do not belong here,” the queen hisses, her voice like nails scraping glass.
Alice freezes, pale as a ghost, staring at the spider. Her hand still glows faintly, like it’s got a mind of its own.
“Run,” I shout, snapping her out of whatever trance she’s in. I grab her arm, and we bolt, her hand still warm in mine as we race ahead.
The forest is a blur, the mist curling around us, and I almost think we’ve made it—
Until a spider drops down in front of us.
We skid to a stop. Alice lurches forward, but I catch her again, pulling her back before she smacks into the grotesque thing.
“Great plan,” she mutters, her voice shaking.
“Not now, princess,” I snap, my dagger ready, though it feels more useless than ever.
The spider queen looms behind us, her hiss cutting through the dark.
Not just one spider, either. Three. No, four. Five. Bloody hell, there’s a whole damned army.
I raise my knife, the blade catching what little light there is. “Stay back, the lot of you,” I snarl. “Or I’ll run you all through.”
The spiders don’t move, their legs clicking in some sick rhythm as they circle us. The hissing starts low, rising to a grating whisper that chills my blood. “Alice...”
The sound is revolting, her name dragged out in a grotesque lisp. I glance at her. She’s still, her fingers twitching at her sides, but her face is pale as death.
“We’re going back,” I snap, dragging her by the arm as I look for a way out. But it’s hopeless. The webs stretch between the trees like bloody walls, sticky strands shimmering in the dim light.
“Stay back,” Alice says suddenly, her voice steadier than I expect. She steps forward, drawing their attention.
“You’re not supposed to be here,” one of the spiders hisses again, its cluster of eyes gleaming as it fixates on her.
Another joins in. “You don’t belong.”
I glance upward just in time to see another spider descending from the canopy. Its bloated body looms over us, venom dripping from its glistening fangs.
“Shit,” I curse, grabbing Alice’s arm. She looks up, her eyes going wide, but instead of panicking, she raises her hands toward the monstrous thing, like she’s daring it to come closer.
And then it happens.
Not light exactly, but the forest shifts. The air vibrates, the ground quivers, and a pressure builds around us, pushing outward. The descending spider is flung backward with a screech, its legs flailing as it crashes into the others.
The ones in front of us scatter like dead leaves, their grotesque bodies smacking into the trees. The forest falls still, an eerie hum lingering in the air.
“What the hell did you just do?” I demand, spinning to face her.
“Nothing,” she says, though her voice is unconvincing. Her hands tremble, and her eyes flick to the spiders still lurking in the shadows, their hiss quiet but venomous.
The glow fades, but their gazes remain fixed on her, filled with a mix of fear and hatred.
“Run,” Alice says, her voice firmer this time.
For once, I don’t argue. Grabbing her hand, I yank her forward, and we run.
Roots and moss threaten to trip us, branches clawing at our clothes as we barrel through the trees. The forest blurs around us, shadows shifting, the spiders’ hissing fading as we put distance between us.
We break into a clearing, the openness startling after the suffocating closeness of the woods. I slow, breathing hard, and glance over my shoulder.
“They’re gone,” I start to say, but before the words leave my mouth, Alice collides with me.
We hit the ground hard, her weight knocking the air from my lungs. For a moment, we’re tangled together, her breath warm against my neck, her hands pressing against my chest.
“If you wanted me flat on my back, love,” I say, my lips curling into a smirk, “all you had to do was ask.”
Her cheeks flush as she scrambles off me, muttering something I can’t make out.
She’s brushing herself off when her eyes land on the locket hanging from my neck. It must’ve slipped free in the fall.
“What’s that?” she asks, reaching out before I can tuck it back. Her fingers brush the tarnished silver, her expression softening. “Is that your son?”
The question hits harder than I expect, a dull ache stirring in my chest. “No,” I say shortly, my tone clipped.
She watches me, curiosity and something else—something too tender—lingering in her gaze.
“Come on,” I say. “Before the spiders change their minds.”
I get to my feet, brushing off the dirt, and start forward. But I don’t get far before my steps falter.
A towering wall of dark green hedges rises ahead of us, spiked and twisted, stretching high into the shadows.
Alice comes to a stop beside me, her breath catching as she takes it in.
I glare at the obstacle, my patience fraying. “A maze.”
Alice exhales sharply, muttering under her breath. “Of course it is.”