The Silver Mist: A Wild Hunt Novel, Book 6 Page 16

  A groan led me over to one side of the pit. There, I found Raven trying to sit up. I flashed the light over her, looking for any signs of blood or broken limbs.

  “Are you all right?” I kicked off my snowshoes and hurried over to her.

  “I think I sprained my ankle,” she said, groaning again as she leaned forward, trying to reach her left ankle.

  “Stop. Let me look at it first.” I knelt, examining her ankle. It was hard to see beneath her leggings and boots, so I gently removed the snowshoe and was about to untie the granny boot when she shook her head.

  “If it’s sprained, I won’t be able to get the boot on again if you take it off. For now it’s acting as a compression device. We need to get out of here. I don’t like the feel of this place. There’s something here, though I don’t know what it is.”

  That got me moving. If Raven was nervous, I wasn’t going to sit around and question her.

  I stood, cautiously moving my way over to stand beneath the opening to the pit. As I looked up, the best I could gauge was that we were about fifteen to twenty feet down. The shower of broken branches and snow scattered around the ground beneath the opening told me that the pit had been camouflaged by a layer of branches and snow.

  “Herne! Herne? Herne!”

  While shouting could bring unwanted attention, we weren’t getting out of here without help. I might be able to gather enough broken branches to form a pile a few feet tall, but that wouldn’t give us enough height to scramble up and out. And with Raven’s ankle banged up, there was no way I could stand on her shoulders, or vice versa.

  “How far away were we from them when we fell?” I looked back at Raven.

  “Maybe ten yards? Maybe a little farther?” She let out another moan, and I flashed my light toward her. She was holding her leg, grimacing.

  “Do you think it’s broken?”

  “I’m not sure,” she said. “But the energy I was talking about that made me uneasy? Whatever it is, it’s growing in strength. Maybe you should see if there are any other exits down here. Walk around the walls of the pit?”

  “Good idea.” Using the flashlight to guide me, I made my way over to one wall of the pit. “First, I want to find out how wide it is.” Back to the wall, I began to stride forward, trying to keep even steps of about a foot long. By the time I reached the opposite wall, I had gone twenty paces. “Good gods, this pit is twenty feet wide. Who the hell made it?”

  “I don’t think I want to know,” Raven said.

  I began to circle the pit, keeping my shoulder against one wall and using the flashlight to search for any openings. Two-thirds of the way around, probably about four yards from where Raven was sitting, I caught sight of a small opening near the floor. I crouched to look at it. The hole was about three feet high and about two feet wide.

  “I found something.” As I flashed the light into the opening, I heard something scuttling inside. It was loud enough for Raven to hear as well.

  She twisted around, leaning back on one hand. “I don’t like that,” she said, her voice trembling. “That’s where the energy is coming from. Be careful, Ember. Whatever’s in there is dangerous.” She rolled over onto her hands and knees and tried to crawl away from it.

  “Raven, you’re only going to hurt yourself more—” I started to say, then stopped as the scuttling noise sounded again, louder this time. I backed up, putting myself between Raven and the hole, keeping the light trained on it at all times. Raven scooted back against the other wall, motioning for me to move to the side.

  “I don’t want any spells I cast to hit you, so get out of the way.” She winced, and then pointed toward the hole. “Train the light back on the opening. It may be the only thing keeping whatever’s inside from attacking us.”

  I turned around, stepping out of the way so she’d have a clear shot if need be, but positioning myself halfway between her and the tunnel. It was then that I realized I didn’t have my crossbow with me. It must have flown out of my hand when we fell through the covering of broken branches. I flipped open the snap on my dagger, withdrawing the blade. My stomach was knotted with fear. There was nothing like being trapped in the dark with something hiding in a hole to set the adrenaline pumping.

  The beam from the flashlight suddenly flared, as something reflected the light back toward me. I froze, tensing. A massive spider began to slowly emerge from the hole. Or at least it looked like a spider. Fully eighteen inches across and at least a foot high, it scuttled out, followed by yet another. I thought I glimpsed of a third one behind them.

  “Holy crap. We’re in trouble,” Raven said. “Etho-spiders. They exist on both the etheric plane, and the physical plane. They phase in and out. And they’re deadly.”

  As she spoke, the front one scuttled toward me, moving faster than I expected it to. I held my dagger ready, hoping to hell that I could hit it before it sank its fangs into me. As it raced forward, there was a sudden rush behind it as five more spiders came racing into the room.

  “You aren’t kidding. We’re in trouble. I hope to hell you have some sort of spell that can help, because I can’t move fast enough to kill them all before they get to us.”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  “Do you have a weapon?” I asked, praying she had some sort of dagger. Or maybe a gun. A gun would definitely be good.

  “I have a boot knife. Shut up and let me focus on a spell.”

  I didn’t bother looking back and just shut my mouth as I tried flashing the light directly at one of the spiders, hoping I could blind it. The creature scrambled back a step or two, but then began to scuttle forward again.

  Running through the magical tricks I knew, I thought that I could try to collect the moisture in the air, but that would just make it rain on us and I didn’t think the spiders would care much about getting wet. And if I tried to suck the moisture out of the air, it wouldn’t bother the spiders either. They weren’t water-based.

  Taking a deep breath, I darted forward, plunging my dagger toward the nearest one. It dodged my attack and then lunged toward me. I managed to pull back before its fangs sunk deep into my hand. They were nasty-looking, glistening with some sort of venom.

  Raven’s voice echoed through the pit.

  Fire to flame, flame to fire,

  build and burn, higher and higher.

  Flare to life, take form and strike,

  attack now, fiery spike.

  Her words had barely broken the silence when a spike of fire came shooting past me, aimed at one of the spiders. It struck deep, right in the center, exploding the spider into a churning froth of goo. The others skittered back, eyeing their fallen companion.

  Impressed, I kept my eyes on our opponents, and called over my shoulder, “How many times can you do that?”

  “A few. Unfortunately, it takes me time to prepare. It’ll take me a few minutes to build up the energy for another strike. You’re going to have to occupy their attention until I’m ready.”

  “I’ll do my best,” I muttered, praying it wouldn’t take her too long to recharge.

  The other etho-spiders were already starting to creep forward again, easing around their fallen comrade. I had to hand it to Raven, though. All that remained were a few charred legs in a big pile of bubbling ooze.

  All of a sudden, the etho-spiders froze and began to move to the side, their attention no longer focused on us. A sound echoed from the tunnel as though something was breaking through, tearing rock and soil as it pushed its way along.

  “How big do these things get?” I asked, not sure I wanted to hear the answer.

  “I think these are babies,” Raven said. “We’re in a lot of trouble. Where the hell are Herne and Kipa?”

  “I don’t know, but we can’t rely on them to save us.”

  “What about your Leannan Sidhe side? Anything there?”

  “Sorry, but I’m not going to suck face with a spider trying to convince it not to bite us!”

  “Good point,” Raven said, gra
bbing her pack and rummaging through it. “I think…”

  As she spoke, the entrance of the tunnel began to crumble as two giant legs broke through, followed by six more, and all of those legs were attached to a much larger etho-spider. With a leg span of at least four feet, the damned thing must have been a good six feet long. I backed up, moving toward Raven.

  “We’re screwed,” I whispered, trying to swallow my fear.

  Raven shoved something into my hand. I could tell she was gathering her energy. I wanted to ask if her spell could bring down a monster that size, but I didn’t want to interrupt her focus. Right now she was our best bet, but something inside warned me that even she wouldn’t be able to handle something this big.

  I glanced down at what she had given me. It was a small, glittering dagger. I could feel the magic emanating from it, and it was dark and deadly. A wicked-good pulse vibrated through the silver, and my Autumn Stalker side whispered, The blade has a venomous bite of its own.

  As the spider struggled out of the hole, dirt and rocks caving in behind it, I swallowed hard. I’d have to slide beneath it and strike from there. In other words, pull a Samwise-on-Shelob maneuver.

  “Get ready,” Raven said, and I heard the magic flickering through her voice. “When I cast the spell, go for it. That dagger can kill the beast. Watch out for her children, though.”

  I caught my breath, stepping out of Raven’s path as I prepared myself.

  She once again chanted her incantation, and a crackle broke the silence as a fiery spike drove forward, a bullet of flame aiming for the massive spider. I braced myself to run the moment the fire distracted the spider. As it hit, exploding, the spider let out a loud hiss, and I sprang forward, dagger ready.

  The younger spiders scattered as Raven’s spell hit the mother. As I raced forward, I gauged the distance between us, and—like a baseball player—went skidding beneath the massive stomach. I was at home plate. Now I just had to make sure to touch the base.

  I brought Raven’s dagger up, point aimed toward the belly of the beast. As the tip of the blade pierced the spider’s exoskeleton, I rolled to one side, trying to protect my eyes from the spewing liquid. The dagger bit deep, and I could feel the magic pulse as it envenomated the spider’s belly. I yanked the dagger out—Raven would kill me if I left it inside the spider—and rolled away as the creature wavered, hissing and waving its front legs. It reared up with fangs exposed, but it wasn’t aiming at me. A howl echoed through the pit as it staggered back.

  The baby spiders backed away, watching their mother. As I rolled into a crouch, I decided another hit wouldn’t hurt, and so I stabbed at the side of the spider. The dagger once again reverberated in my hand, pulsing with thirst as it delighted in its conquest. I withdrew the blade and backed away, hoping this would be enough to finish her off.

  Behind me, Raven sputtered out another spell—a much weaker spiral of fire—at one of the babies that was getting too close. It exploded on contact. I backed up, watching the mother as she writhed in pain, her legs flailing wildly as she listed to the side. She let out another howl and began to waver, her form becoming almost transparent. Another moment, and she slumped to the floor, no longer moving.

  At that moment, Herne and Kipa dropped into the pit, between the spider and us. They took one look at the situation, and Herne aimed his crossbow toward the creature, letting fly with an arrow.

  “You’re late to the party, dude,” I said. “We already killed her. Take care of the babies.”

  I knelt beside Raven, wiping the blade of her dagger on a nearby branch, getting it as clean as I could. I handed it back to her, hilt first. She slid it into a metal sheath, which she affixed back on her belt. I hadn’t noticed it under her jacket.

  “That’s one wicked blade,” I said.

  “My father gave it to me when I was little. I’ve taken good care of it, and it’s taken good care of me.” She winced, gritting her teeth.

  “Your ankle?”

  She nodded. “I hope I can get the boot off when we get out of here.”

  “We have to get you back to the cabin. You can’t come with us in this shape.” I looked over to where Herne and Kipa were fighting the rest of the baby spiders. They had taken care of most of them, and as we watched, they finished off the last one. I stood up as they shuffled back our way, sheepish grins on their faces.

  “So you finally decided to quit arguing and pay attention to the fact that Raven and I were stuck in a pit?” I crossed my arms, glaring at Herne.

  He glanced at Kipa. “I told you we were in trouble.”

  “It’s your fault—” Kipa started to say, but stopped as Raven interrupted.

  “Both of you are to blame. Now how the hell are you going to get me out of here? I sprained my ankle, or maybe I broke it—I don’t know—when we fell down into the pit. And we wouldn’t be down here in the first place if you guys hadn’t been standing around, having a cock- measuring contest. So shut the fuck up and do something.”

  She sounded so angry even I took a step back.

  “I’m sorry,” Herne said, staring at the floor.

  “Sorry,” Kipa added.

  “It’s a little late for that, given Raven’s hurt. Just get us out of here.” My own temper wasn’t much better than hers right now.

  Kipa glanced up at the edge of the pit. “I can climb the wall, but I can’t carry anybody with me while I do. But if we fashion a harness and strap you into it, I can lift you out.”

  I wandered over to the hole from where the spiders had emerged, and shined my light down the tunnel. Even though it was partially caved in, I could see that it grew larger farther on. Brushing away the dirt, I slipped into the tunnel, scouting a few feet ahead. I suddenly found myself in a five-foot-tall metal tube. This was no natural spider burrow. This was man-made. A thought occurred to me, and I turned, hurrying back to the pit.

  “That tunnel actually turns into a metal pipe when you get about five or six feet in. The spiders didn’t make that. Do you think that runs under the encampment?”

  Herne glanced at the opening. “There’s only one way to find out.” He turned back to Kipa. “If we get Raven up top, can you take her back to the cabin without a problem?”

  Kipa nodded. “I know exactly where it is. I promise she’ll arrive there safely.”

  Herne looked at me. “Are you willing to go on with just the two of us?”

  “We need to find Rafé. Kipa, take Raven back to the cabin, then you can rejoin us. That way, if somehow we get stuck in the tunnel, you can find us.”

  “Good idea. And I promise, no more stupid arguments. Herne?” Kipa turned toward Herne.

  “I promise as well,” Herne said. “You have my word.”

  Kipa pulled a length of rope out of his pack. Together, he and Herne fastened a secure harness that would hold Raven while they lifted her out of the pit. Kipa scampered up the side of the pit in a way I could only dream of. Once on top, he began to pull up the rope as Herne held Raven steady. A few moments later, Kipa peeked down.

  “Safe and sound. I’ll run her back to the cabin, and then I’ll be back to join you. Be careful.”

  I turned to Herne. “Are you ready?” I paused, flashing my light around the pit. “I dropped my crossbow when I fell. Help me find it.”

  We scouted around the pit until he finally found the bow and my quiver of bolts near the other side of the wall. As he held the light, I examined it. It seemed to be in workable condition, so I notched one of the bolts in it, then sent the arrow singing into the opposite wall. Herne retrieved it, and I put it back in my quiver.

  “It works. I guess we’re ready. I hope Kipa can get Raven safely back to the cabin.”

  “He will. Trust me on that. I’m so sorry, love. I can’t believe that we didn’t notice you were both gone for so long. Our stupidity could have killed you.”

  I took his hand, gazing into his eyes. “Herne, I love you. You know that. I love you very much, but dude, if you and Kipa don�
�t put your animosity to rest, one day either one of you will end up dead, or you’re going to get somebody else killed. Learn from this. I’m tired of your whiny-assed macho bitchfests. You guys have got to get your shit together.”

  He hung his head, a solemn look on his face. “I know you’re right. And I’ll do everything I can to make peace with him.”

  It didn’t take a genius to realize that if Herne made peace with Kipa, it would partially be the result of Kipa’s interest in Raven, but I kept my mouth shut. As long as they could come to some comfortable coexistence, I’d be happy. And they made for a powerful force when combining their strengths.

  “You big doofus.” I smacked his chest lightly. “I don’t like macho men. Alpha? That’s another matter. But macho’s just going to push me away. Got it?”

  “Yeah, I get it. Okay, let’s get moving.”

  Herne entered the tunnel first, and I followed behind him, wishing I still had Raven’s dagger with me. That was a handy little blade, and I wondered where I could find one like it.

  We crept along, quickly entering the metal tube. It was around five feet tall, so we were walking with hunched shoulders, crouching as we made our way. Up ahead, the tube split into a T. When we came to the juncture, Herne motioned for me to pause while he crept ahead to look. He returned a moment later, having taken a look into both sides.

  “To the right, it ends in a natural tunnel. I think that’s where the spiders came from. We can’t count out that there might be more, so we’ll need to be careful.”

  “What about to the left?” I asked.

  “The tube ends about twenty feet to the left. When I flashed my light down there, I saw a ladder attached to the side of the wall. My guess is that we’re in an access tube.”

  “I wonder what they use it for. But my guess is that when they discovered the spiders down below, they decided to make use of them as guardians.” I shivered, not wanting to see any more of the beasts. Spiders normally didn’t bother me, but these were the grist of nightmares.