Chapter 32 If We Ever Get Out of This
If We Ever Get Out of This
On the shore, the soldiers clustered mindlessly against the water, ripe for the picking.
Against the sea of emerald-green uniforms, only two figures were visible.
One was the ruby-red Vizeking, leaning so far forward with anticipation he was almost in the Lake.
The other was Elke, black as onyx, scuttling back and forth off to the side in panic, her little spider-legs over her mouth.
Her spider-legs.
She could climb up walls.
I looked up at the cocoons with the women in them. Cocoons made of spider-silk.
Hades had told me that no chaosgotter would ever spin silk in public. But that was just too fucking bad.
“ELKE!” I screamed. Elke startled. I pointed at the wall. I pointed at the cocoons.
Even from here, I saw her blanch.
And then swallow.
And then, with only one terrified sideways look at the Vizeking, she hopped onto the wall.
My breath caught as she began to crawl. She was amazing to watch. Calix made a noise of disgust, but I’d never seen somebody move like that. Even the workers who’d built the reservoir pipe hadn’t moved so beautifully.
I realized that I had never seen Elke as she was designed to be seen.
Every time I had interacted with her, she had been doing a human thing like carrying a tray.
This was the first time I had seen her in her truest form, totally unencumbered, doing what she was made to do.
She looked more at home moving across that wall than she’d ever looked while filling a stupid bath.
Elke wasn’t meant to be a maidservant, I realized. Elke was made to be a lady.
I decided that if we ever got out of this, I was going to order Hades to give her a different job.
But for right now, she moved like lightning. Like sliding rainwater along the cavern walls.
The Vizeking caught sight of her. I shouted at her to move faster.
But far from trying to stop her, he laughed.
My blood boiled. But he was right. Elke couldn’t do anything to the King. He was too big, and even if he wasn’t, she had worked for the Royal Family for probably her entire life. She would never be able to bring herself to hurt her King.
But I didn’t need her to.
I’d be doing that myself.
The King took notice of Elke out of the corner of his eye. He stopped. Turned, ponderously. Began to slosh over to Elke. Raised a hand to smash her against the wall.
Elke jumped out of the way. She skittered in little circles on the wall.
But she couldn’t get any closer to us, and she was still twenty feet away.
The walls were too steep, the opening above our heads too high.
She climbed upward, out of the King’s reach, but that only put her farther away from us.
For a beat, nothing moved except the King, who was hammering on the wall so hard I was afraid Elke would fall off.
But then, a moment later, Elke tossed a skein of spider-silk at us.
Every chaosgotter in the room gasped. The Vizeking, his lackeys. Even the King appeared appalled.
Elke’s face, far away, was as red as the Vizeking’s clothes.
But she kept going, spinning out the skein.
The King got hold of himself and jumped to smash her again.
But Elke was too dextrous. She dodged him and kept going.
When the King landed back in the Lake, a wave smashed into my face like a sack of bricks.
I spluttered and clung to Hades and the candlestick and searched around desperately for Calix. He was bobbing away.
The end of Elke’s skein floated over to him just before he was out of reach.
Calix grabbed it, shuddering. At once he tossed it to me. I almost flinched, too. It was sticky, almost resinous. But that only meant it would be better at doing what I needed it to do.
I tied Hades to the candlestick so that his head would stay above water. Wincing, I tore off the end of the rope, hoping it wouldn’t hurt Elke.
Then I threw the skein back to Calix.
“No!” Calix yelled. “What are you doing? Come here!”
“Get them to shore!” I screamed at Elke. Elke hesitated, obviously wanting to stay back to help me and Hades. My panic surged — and with it, anger.
Without meaning to, I pitched my voice up to a roar. “DO AS I SAY!”
Elke obeyed.
I didn’t have time to feel bad. The King’s back was still turned. I thrust my hand through the crown like it was a bracelet and dove into the water.
I prayed to any god, all the gods, even the dreaded Monarch, that the undertow would whip me where I wanted to go. Just one more time.
And it did.
I smashed into the King.