Page 39 of For the Love of the Quest

“Thomasin.”

“You’re right. Focus.” Thomasin clapped a hand against Edith’s shoulder to reassure the other woman, but also, strangely, it made Thomasin feel stronger. She shook her head. She’d unpack that later. Turning to face the spiders, she felt Edith come up next to her. They stood shoulder to shoulder before the chamber of horrors.

Thomasin forced herself to focus on just one spider. One that was nearest to them, perched at the center of its web, front legs picking and plucking.

Its torso was oval shaped, thick and fuzzy, with coarse hairs coating its brown body. The legs were long and disgustingly spindly. The worst part, though, was the head. It was crowned by littlenubbin feelers on each side, and in between them was a set of pincers. The fangs were the shape of water droplets that had been sharpened to dangerous points. But instead of clear blue, they were a blackish-brown sheen of fuzz.

The legs moved fast for something so big. She imagined the spiders swarming them the minute they stepped into the room, pincers breaking through, legs creeping along her skin, furry and quick.

Focus, she reminded herself, Edith’s voice loud in her head.

“I’m going to go with the scorpion principle,” she announced.

“Excuse me?” Edith asked in the way one spoke when they were concerned about someone’s mental soundness.

“The bigger the scorpion, the less poisonous it is.”

“Oh, okay, yes. Let’s go with that,” Edith agreed immediately. “This is a part of the quest, and it wouldn’t make sense to just kill everyone who makes it this far. The inscription said that this is about being brave, which means they are testing our courage, not our spider knowledge. We just have to be brave enough to walk through.”

“That was all very logical.”

“The best treasure hunts are.”

“I guess there’s nothing left for it.” Thomasin’s hand tightened around the torch.

“I don’t know, I’m sure we could find something else to talk about.”

Thomasin met Edith’s sideways look, and the corner of Thomasin’s mouth curved into a smile at the beseeching look on her face. “What would King Arthur do?” Thomasin asked.

Edith nodded and then took Thomasin’s hand. Their fingers wove together, so tight it was almost painful. Thomasin thought of nothing but the feel of their palms pressed together, of the smooth skin of Edith’s hand beneath her fingertips. She stroked her thumb back and forth, met Edith’s wobbly smile, then said, “Let’s fucking do this.”

Thomasin had meant it when she said Edith was the bravest person she’d ever met, but she’d also come to know that sometimes Edith needed a little push. Thomasin gripped her hand even harder and barreled into the chamber. She felt Edith running, just half a step behind her.

Thomasin kept the torch raised, hoping the flame would fend off any attackers. Her eyes were locked on the ground ahead of her feet, refusing to look up and witness just how close the spiders might be.

Edith screamed, and Thomasin’s arm was yanked backward as the other woman stopped moving.

Edith was flailing, smacking wildly at a spider that was crawling up her satchel. When it moved from the leather of her bag onto the linen fabric of her shirt, Edith screamed again, raising her arms above her head, likely too afraid to even try to squash it. She just craned her body to one side, as if she could somehow escape the spider that way, but in reality, she was just bringing herself closer to the many spiders on the wall.

“Stay still,” Thomasin ordered. Edith’s panicked gaze flashed to hers, and she somewhat obeyed, freezing where she was, but her body still wriggled in an attempt to fling the spider off.

Thomasin pried her hand from Edith’s grip, and without giving herself a moment of hesitation, picked up the spider from where it was currently resting near Edith’s ribs and launched it into the shadows.

Then, she grabbed Edith’s hand and gave her a great shove so that Edith was in front. Edith seemed to get the idea, because she took off at a dead sprint, with Thomasin at her heels.

When they passed through an archway and into a mercifully spider-free room, Edith fell to her knees in sheer relief. Thomasin followed her lead, dragging her hand across the dirt floor to scrape away the feeling of the monstrous furry spider that she’d held in her hand.

“Thank you,” Edith breathed heavily. She crawled over to Thomasin, whispering it over and over again. She threw her arms around Thomasin’s shoulders and buried her face in her neck. “Thank you so much.”

“I’d say ‘anytime,’ but we’re never doing that ever again.” Thomasin returned the embrace, the warmth of Edith the perfect cure for the creepy-crawly feeling that had taken up residence beneath her skin. Thomasin let her hand come up to cup the back of Edith’s head just so she could feel the satin smoothness of Edith’s hair between her fingers. Her chin rested on Edith’s shoulder, and she would have been content to stay like that for centuries, but she made the mistake of looking up.

“Edith,” she said softly. “Turn around.”

“What is it?” Edith’s body tensed against her. She was clearly expecting more spiders.

Thomasin felt a wild grin spread across her face. “Turn around,” she repeated.

Slowly, Edith extracted herself from their embrace and looked over her shoulder. A gasp fell from her lips.