Chapter 35 #3
He stopped so abruptly that I collided with his back for the second time. Peering around him, I saw that the stream continued off to the right. To the left, however, the Vein split away from the water, its glowing current skimming across the forest floor.
“This way,” he said gruffly.
We followed it. Another quarter hour passed in silence.
Rìan's eyes never stopped moving, sweeping over the trees, the undergrowth, the spaces between the trunks.
The forest gradually darkened. The few shafts of sunlight vanished, plunging the woods into a murky twilight.
Only the Vein remained bright, its fluttering light flashing around our ankles.
Rìan glanced up again and his mouth tightened, his pace quickening. I followed his gaze, praying night wasn’t already falling—and froze.
Above us, the entire forest canopy had been woven into massive spiderwebs.
The strands were yellowed in places, gray in others, stretched from tree to tree in enormous sagging sheets, layered so thickly in places that they formed a ceiling above us. The silk was coarse and matted, like unspun wool left out in the rain.
And here and there, caught within the webs, hung silk-wrapped shapes. Bodies.
Some were no larger than deer. Others were enormous, their outlines warped beneath their casings. Some looked almost human.
Rìan's hand closed suddenly around my arm, and he yanked me after him as he followed the trail of light.
“How big are the spiders in the Wildlands?” I hated how frightened I sounded.
“Not spiders.” His gaze snagged on something in the shadows beyond the webs and he went still.
My heart leapt into my throat. After a long, terrible moment, he relaxed and continued forward.
“Spinners. They feed on energy—thoughts. Emotions. Fear and pain are the easiest to provoke, so that’s what they prefer. "
“Where are they?” I searched the webs above us, then the forest floor, then the darkness between the trees, but saw nothing.
He ignored the question. “Remember—no magic,” Rìan warned again.
“But—”
“No talking.”
For a moment I considered arguing anyway. Then I noticed his hand resting on the hilt of one of his iron knives and thought better of it. Silence suddenly seemed like a very good idea.
The farther we walked, the thicker the webs became.
They sagged between the trees like burial shrouds, swaying faintly despite the absence of any wind.
The forest beneath them felt smothered, the sunlight reduced to a sickly twilight that painted everything in shades of gray.
I had the sudden, sinking feeling that we weren't just walking through the forest anymore.
We were walking through something's nest.
At first I thought the shapes emerging from the darkness ahead were nothing more than shadows cast by the webs. Until the first slab of stone came into view.
Ruins rose between the trees, half-collapsed beneath centuries of neglect.
Massive roots split the weathered stone apart while vines claimed the broken walls and crumbling archways.
Thick webs veiled one section of the structure, loose strands swaying gently across the entrance.
Worn carvings lined the facade. Broken columns lay scattered along the ground.
What remained of the roof had long since collapsed inward.
It was a temple.
The Vein curved abruptly away, disappearing into the undergrowth.
Rìan’s strides slowed, as though he were forcing himself through deep mud. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end.
Power radiated from the temple—ancient, immense, and wrong. It settled over the ruins like a weight, muting the sounds of the forest and making each step feel heavier than the last. Every instinct I possessed screamed at me to turn around. To run.
The very air crawled against my skin.
The feeling only intensified as we stepped through the archway. There, at the center of a weathered mosaic floor, stood a well.
We both came to an abrupt halt.
We'd found it.
It was far larger than any well I'd ever seen, its circular wall built from giant blocks of rough stone fitted together so perfectly that, unlike the temple surrounding it, it hadn’t crumbled at all.
A thrill of excitement fluttered inside me—then died just as quickly.
The longer I looked at the well, the stronger the urge came to back away from it.
I was here to break the bond, wasn't I? I forced my thoughts away from the first Gate of Othyr and onto Levinica. Dannis. Nadja's tongueless mouth. Solmire burning.
I thought of Aedric. The male waiting for me beyond all of this. For him, I could face any fear. For him, I could endure the terrible unease pressing down on me and do what I'd come here to do.
Willing myself forward, I crossed the remaining distance and peered over the edge. Darkness stared back. The shaft plunged so deep that I couldn't see the bottom, only an endless pit, black and still.
We were here.
We'd found the first Gate.
I was one step closer to breaking the bond.
I straightened and turned to Rìan.
"Now what?"