Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 87781 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87781 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
“Don’t look up,” I mutter.
Come along, Raila says. Quick now.
She starts walking toward the tunnel of spiders, like some nightmarish attraction you’d find at a horror night theme park, and Death goes behind me, nudging me slightly. I grip my swords as tight as possible and walk with them both pointed up. If any of those fuckers drop from the ceiling on me, I’ll gut them.
I instinctively hold my breath as we walk underneath, hurrying along after Raila, feeling as if the spiders might drop or leap out at me at any moment. From the way that Death is close behind me, I know I’m not the only one creeped out by this turn of events.
We hurry through without the spider walls collapsing from above, and I don’t dare turn my head to look behind us.
Then, I hear it.
A heavy thump.
Raila stops dead in front of us, and I nearly run into her. She doesn’t turn around at first but immediately starts chittering loudly.
“What’s happening?” Death asks.
Raila turns around, as do we.
Behind us, the dozen spiders have gathered, moving slowly toward us.
“What are they doing?” I ask, my voice coming out in a squeak.
Raila shakes her head and moves past us so she’s between us and the spiders and holds her hands out at them. They’ve changed their mind, she says, her voice barely a whisper in my head. Go.
“What?” Death asks.
They don’t believe you’ll uphold your promise, she says quickly. They’re going to kill you both. Go! Go, now! Run and follow the tunnel to where it forks and take the left passage until it comes to a door drawn in the dirt with a single obsidian knob. Open that door and leave!
“Raila, we aren’t leaving you,” I say, reaching for her shoulder.
I’ll hold them back! she yells, shaking me off and marching toward the spider creatures. Go! Now! Please, my queen!
At that, the spiders start running toward us. Raila looks so small and powerless in front of them; there’s no way she can hold them all back.
I hold out my swords. I don’t want to go. I don’t want to leave my loyal Deadmaiden behind. I want to fight.
But Death is grabbing me by the waist and pulling me along the tunnel. I try to fight him off, but he’s too strong, and soon, the tunnel curves. The last thing I see before we disappear in the bend are the spiders descending on Raila, followed by a haunting scream I pray doesn’t belong to her.
“We have to keep moving,” Death says.
“You’re running from a fight!” I yell, squirming in his grip, my feet tripping as we go. “We can’t just leave her.”
“She knows how to take of herself. She knows how to deal with them. We don’t.”
“But they’re your creatures! They live in your City of the Dead!”
“I’m the God of Death,” he says gruffly as we round another corner, the tunnel still tilting downwards. “But not the God of the world they came from. I don’t know how to defeat every creature we come across. And while I know I would probably win against them, I’m not risking you, not when we have a chance to escape. You are my queen, my woman, my world, and I am not letting you go.”
That would be epically romantic if he weren’t physically dragging me.
“Now, am I your king?” he practically growls, his grip on my waist growing stronger, as if he’s waiting for me to wriggle out of his grasp.
“You are my king,” I admit.
“Then you will obey your king,” he says. “I know that most days, you’d rather do anything but. However, right now, you will obey me, and I will get us both to safety.”
Even though I hate the idea of leaving Raila behind, I keep my feet moving, my steps higher, until he has enough faith in me to let me go. We both keep running down the tunnel, and I’m growing more conscious of the fact that the spiders might be running after us. The thought is so paralyzing that when we do come to a fork in the tunnel, I can’t remember which direction to go.
“Which way was it?” I ask, breathing hard.
Death looks both ways, and for a horrible moment, I fear he forgot, too. Finally, he nods. “This way.”
We take the tunnel to the left, the passage now sloping upwards. It grows colder the higher we go, the ground slippery with frost until steps start to appear in the dirt.
“This can’t be right,” Death mumbles as we climb. “We should be going down still, not up.”
I have no idea what to think; I just pray to my mother Goddess that this tunnel doesn’t have a dead end with no door. We’d be sitting ducks.
But finally, we see the end: the door in the dirt at the top of the iron stairs with a single obsidian handle.