The clicking came again as the giant spider neared, and Ward gave her a nod. He closed his eyes, and Morgan instinctively followed his lead. Magic tugged at her until she could almost see the way he shaped the spell by using his will alone.
The way he used magic was unlike anyone else, pure instinct and complete control. It tugged at a long-forgotten memory. Morgan wanted to study what he was doing, but couldn’t risk being distracted.
A flare of bright light hit Morgan’s eyelids, and her eyes snapped open. Every inch of horror in the room was laid bare. She surveyed the room in seconds. Spider webs were strewn everywhere, creating faux walls and ceilings, making it difficult to get a clear sense of size of the room. Cocooned bodies were scattered everywhere, many of the bookshelves occupied, half the cocoons ripped open, leaving skeletons spilled across the floor. A large, black shadow caught her attention—directly above Ward. The spider was hidden behind a massive web, only a subtle movement giving away her location.
The spider was a nightmare brought to life. The head was the size of a buffalo, the fangs the length of Morgan’s arm, the body of the beast the size of a freaking car. Sparse hair was scattered across her body, the strands quivering in the air. The legs were as big as Morgan’s thighs.
Every hair on Morgan’s body stood on end, instinct screaming at her to run. It took all her training to break her paralysis when the creature began to slowly clamber down the web, its body twirling and spinning through the air as it descended.
“Atlas!” She took off running.
Atlas snapped toward her, then quickly dropped to one knee and cupped his hands. She stepped into his hold, then she was airborne when he launched her straight up, narrowly missing the swaying web. She lashed out with her blade, catching the tip of the spider’s front leg.
The arachnid screeched as five inches of her creature’s leg was shorn off and hit the ground, still twitching. The spider waved her injured limb, spraying a white liquid Morgan could only assume was blood across her arm.
The alien blood burned horribly, everywhere it touched sizzling, the smell of burned flesh clogging her nose.
As the spider bucked in confusion, gravity took hold, and Morgan fell, landing hard on her feet in a tangle of webbing. Atlas was there even as she struggled to get free. He quickly grabbed the sticky web and wrapped the milky material around her injured arm, surprisingly smothering the agony that lit her nerve endings on fire. “Where did you learn that nifty trick?”
She sagged in relief, having been seconds away from begging him to just rip off her arm to stop the pain.
“I actually paid attention in class.” He gave her a crooked smile, but in the light, he looked in even worse condition, barely able to remain upright. His normally pale skin was a chalky grey.
The fast click of claws on the ceiling had her head snapping up.
Ward took his bone shard and drew it back like a spear, then sent the makeshift weapon sailing through the air. It struck true, met resistance when the shard pierced the spider’s grotesquely large abdomen. The spider gave another ear-splitting screech, dancing around as if to escape the pain, great globs of steaming hot liquid pouring out and splattering across the room.
Ward ducked and rolled away, quickly arming himself with another bone, desecrating another corpse. Atlas hunched over her, hissing when the liquid poured down over them. A scream of rage and curses erupted from the ceiling, and she saw the bogie trying to stay on the spider’s back, riding the spider like a bucking bronco.
Then the bogie was launched through the air, the spider scrambling across the ceiling in a blur, squeezing into a tiny crack that should’ve been impossible for her to fit. More liquid dribbled down the wall as she wiggled the last of her legs through, then disappeared.
The bogie had dropped to the ground, the impact stunning her. She sat up, frantically glancing around the room, her eyelashes surprisingly long, her green skin a pea color, her tattered clothing hanging off her bony frame, as if the coverings were an afterthought, her fingernails were extra-long but well-maintained…Morgan squinted…and painted. When the bogie registered her predicament, her yellow eyes widened in alarm. She scrambled to her feet, hissing at Morgan with pent-up rage, leaving globs of spit peppering the floor, before sprinting for the nearest web as fast as her bowed legs would allow. She wasn’t as fast as the spider, but she scurried up the web like a cargo net, fighting for each step.
When Ward turned to go after her, Morgan waved him off. “She’s not important. We need to find a way out of here.”
He hesitated a moment longer, frowning after the retreating bogie, before reluctantly agreeing. “Yes.”
He didn’t sound happy at being denied a fight, aggression pouring off him as he stalked away in search of a door.
Morgan scooted away from Atlas, worried at his stillness, then nearly lost her lunch when she saw his back was stripped bare of clothes…and skin. She hacked at the nearest web, carefully spreading the delicate material across his back, the silken layers leaving behind a sticky film on her skin that no amount of scrubbing would remove.
When she turned to gather more, Atlas caught her hand. “I’m fine. You need to find the others.”
She wanted to protest but knew he was right.
It was only a matter of time before their captors discovered they were still alive. She wanted to rescue everyone before it happened, fearful her men would be left behind if she didn’t locate them quickly.
She wouldn’t have them become snacks for the dryads’ freakish pet.
She wove around the webbing and bookshelves, tripping over benches hidden in the white mesh, searching for her team, but saw no sign of anything but more webs. Nausea churned in her gut when she realized what that meant…they were completely encased in the cocoons.
She closed her eyes, focusing on anything that would give away their location. Muffled sounds came to her right, and she hurried after the slight noise to find Draven and Ryder pinned to the wall, almost completely smothered. Draven’s furious, stormy blue eyes were the only thing visible as he was held immobile, while Ryder was almost completely wolf, using his teeth and claws to hack away at the webbing, but making little progress.
She closed her fist, beckoning her knife, grateful when the metal formed in her palm. One clean slice around their bodies, and both of them collapsed to the floor, barely throwing out their arms in time to avoid face-planting.
“Sorry.” She winced and silently cursed herself for not reacting fast enough to catch them.
“Go.” Draven shooed her away with his hand, not even bothering to lift his head, as if he needed to focus on just breathing. “We’re fine.”
Taking him at his word, she focused on Kincade and Ascher, not surprised to see them dangling from the ceiling, wiggling to get free, but without much luck. Smoke rose from Ascher, but the heat seemed to create more of a cement around him instead of burning him free.
She backed up two steps, then took a running start, grabbing onto Kincade’s legs and pulling herself up. He bucked and jerked, nearly unseating her, when she smacked his thigh. “Are you trying to make me fall?”
He stilled completely at her question, and she pulled herself up until she could see his face behind a thin patch of webbing. It took nearly all her strength to rip away the silken material, and she leaned her head against his, absurdly grateful to find him alive.
“You’re unhurt?” Kincade scanned her face, his only concern for her.
“Relatively.” She lifted her head at his gruff question, then smiled at him in apology. “This is going to hurt.”