Soul Sacrifice by Susan Faw

Author:Susan Faw [Faw, Susan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Susan Faw
Published: 2017-04-15T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 33

Shielding the Shield

“STOP RUNNING! Stop swatting at them! Stand still!” Avery screamed at the lead Flesh Clan warriors as a blood-curdling cry ripped from their lungs. The spiders swarmed their bodies, crawling over their boots and up and under their pants, squirming in the gap of their tunics and into the seams of their shirts. Every swat, every twitch triggered a corresponding bite and large swellings bloomed as the venom took hold. Three Primordials had already collapsed and lay twitching on the ground, looking more like great overgrown squash than humans.

Only two stood stock still and controlled their fear, and those the spiders completely ignored, flowing around them as though they were trees.

Avery entered the clearing and dropped from the back of her horse, walking into the midst of the spiders, reaching out to them with her mind. She could hear thousands of whispers and sense their hive-like oneness, controlled by the large adult female hanging from a huge web that stretched from one side of the pathway to the other. It was large enough to snag a horse…or an unsuspecting scout or two.

“Trespassers, invaders! Protect the shield! Protect the shield! Sacred trust!”

Avery stood in the middle of the sacred forest, which they had entered an hour before, amidst dire warnings to the warriors to not agitate the inhabitants needlessly. She held up her hands, palms out, and closed her eyes to the swarm. Then she reached out with her mind to the queen. Peace, Ancient One, peace. Passage is needed and required.

The queen arachnid twitched a silk and shifted slightly in the web. Passage is granted, Mother, may you shield us all, said the queen with an audible series of clicks and high-pitched whistles. The juvenile spiders swarming the ground scuttled to the side, the clicking of their pincers like the dry crunch of leaves under a wagon wheel. The queen detached a few strands of silk and then swung like a trapeze artist over to another tree, folding the giant web with her. The passage cleared.

Avery whirled around and pointed at Achak and snapped, “Do not allow the Flesh Clan warriors to wander off the path! And you,” Avery marched up to her sister, “you were never so cruel. Stop pretending to be this great ‘avenging god.’ Give over and leave that role to our dear father, should he choose to intervene. You know, Artio, it wouldn’t be a bad thing if you prayed once in a while!” Furious, Avery stormed back to her horse and swung back up into the saddle. The rune on her right arm that was connected to the spiders itched, and she scratched at it absently. The closer they got to Faylea, the more her tattoos flared, bringing pain or itching in equal measure. The temple was stirring, and she was connected to the temple in a way not seen since the beginning of the age. The constant crawling under her skin frayed her nerves and shortened her fuse. She could not

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