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Arachne tapped each of her dark legs in exasperation, as if she couldn’t believe I still didn’t understand. The spider crawled over to the wispy thing between them, then walked back to the curly-haired girl who looked uncannily like Freya, right down to her fierce expression. Arachne paused, and I once again got the sense that she was questioning my intelligence.
I see your lesson on arrogance didn’t take.
She hurried back to the knife in the other woman’s hand.
“Oh,” I said, “that thing you spun is supposed to be a shield.”
Arachne twirled.
I studied the carefully woven lines of the shield and realized I really was an idiot.
“Your web,” I said, “it’s a shield?”
I studied the image even further and gasped.
“Even against the Bloodblade,” I said.
If spiders could sigh, I was confident Arachne would’ve.
When I took a breath to call for Freya and Cadence, the jars on the countertops rattled. I frowned.
Odd time of year for an earthquake.
An image flashed in my mind—I stared at the forest floor, lit only by the moon. My hands braced myself against the shaking ground, and dew clung to my cold skin.
A headache nearly split my skull.
“Walker!” Cadence cried.
She and Freya raced into the room and brought me back to the present. My strange daydream dissipated.
“Did you feel that?” Freya asked.
I nodded and rubbed my pounding forehead. Unfortunately, I didn’t think now was the best time to ask for an Advil.
“Someone’s tearing down the wards,” Freya said in disbelief and muttered to herself. “How are they doing this?”
The walls shook even harder, and some of the spices fell off their shelves. Arachne watched us with keen eyes. She was completely unbothered by the looming threat.
“Can you tell who it is?” I asked Freya.
“I already figured out who’s behind it.” Fury burned in Freya’s eyes. “Josephine.”
“Your witch-friend?” I asked. “You didn’t think to mention this?”
She glared at me. “I got a bit sidetracked by the goddess!”
Fair enough, I thought.
Something pounded on the front door of the cottage.
Boom…boom…boom.
“Are they hitting it with a log?” I asked out loud, then shook my head at myself. “It doesn’t matter. What matters is we need to go.”
Cadence nodded enthusiastically, but Freya hesitated. I couldn’t blame her. This cottage was her family’s prized possession and had been the home she shared with her mother. Whoever was on the other side of that door wouldn’t give a second thought about destroying it. She fiddled with the book in her hands.
“You’re right,” Freya reluctantly admitted. “We can ride Arion again.”
