Page 84 of The Barbarian King's Assassin (Magic and Kings 1)
Even more sobering were the many other bundles. A glance around in the moon and starlight showed others dangling, some clearly animals, others shaped as people, not all of them dead.
Broon saw me, and his eyes widened. “Not you too! The king will be so mad.”
“How can he be mad we got caught by some monstrous-sized spider?”
“Because I was supposed to guard against it, but it snuck up on me.”
“Me, too. So he can be mad at both of us, once we get out of here.”
“Escape.” Broon nodded. “Good plan. Maybe he’ll only maim me if you return alive.”
Such drama. “How do we get loose?” I asked. The webbing bound my arms to my body with only the tips of my fingers able to wiggle.
“Got a knife?” he suggested.
“Not one I can reach.” Assuming it remained strapped to my calf. I didn’t feel my sword by my side. despite dragging it along with me for my piss. I’d heard too many stories of people taken unaware to risk going anywhere unarmed. It probably remained on the ground where I’d squatted.
“I’ll try and see if I can swing myself free,” Broon declared.
Before I could tell him what a phenomenally bad idea that was, he started. Back and forth, like a pendulum, which swung so hard Broon’s cocoon got stuck when it hit a fresh part of the web.
“Um, I think I made it worse,” Broon admitted.
He had, and I wouldn’t do the same. While the spider silk wound around me, flexing my fingers parted some of the sticky strands. Not that having the tips of my fingers exposed did me much good. I needed something sharp. Like a dagger or a sword. I could always use a sword. Wished I had mine. The very idea made me tingle.
I flexed my hand. Time to test something I’d been too hesitant to try until I saw Konstantin doing it. He wanted a weapon, and it came to him. I remembered the times I’d wished hard for one and suddenly found it there.
Well, I needed a weapon more than ever. Not just any weapon. Mine. My sword with its lovely, tingly presence that fit so right in my hand.
Want it.
Need it.
And then it was there. The dark blade moved too fast to see, and yet I saw the damage in its path as the cocoon holding some kind of antlered beast split in two, with half falling to the ground. Not that I watched the aftermath, as my blade hurtled straight for me.
Not once did I fear it killing me. Why would it when I called it? It wanted to be with me.
The hilt fitted itself into my hand by going through the silk as if it weren’t there, singeing it without fire, freeing my fingers to clasp it.
My sword.
It hummed.
Konstantin was right. It did like me. Hopefully enough to set me free. While I held it, the blade itself rested on the outside of the cocoon.
Little sawing motions parted the strands of my prison, which led to a dilemma. How to get down without falling and smashing my body? I’d have to be careful. Maybe leave my ankles for last when I could grab what remained and climb down?
Broon offered me encouragement. “Almost there. Don’t worry about that cut. I do worse shaving.”
Which reminded me I’d sliced a little too hard and so. of course, now it chose to sting. The small cuts could be the worst.
Being careful to not weaken the webbing holding my feet meant I took too long to free myself. The web quivered, as if suddenly strung. All the strands jiggled, drawing a holler from Broon.
“It’s coming!”
The intricate weaving calmed, and the air took on an ominous stillness.
Broon stifled his panicked breaths.