Page 187 of Blade of the Nightking

I had it. The one thing it couldn’t refuse.

“Then that’s my offer,” I said. “Release him, and that is what I will give you.”

For a long moment, the Spinner simply stared at me. Then, slowly, carefully, it released its hold on the web and dropped to the forest floor before me. Fear lanced through me. This close, I realized that if it straightened to its full height, it would stand as tall as two full-grown men.

“I will take it as a memory,” it said, easing closer. “Then I may taste it again... and again.”

My mouth went dry, but I inclined my head. “Fine.”

“Your happiest memory.”

The implication settled over me slowly, each piece falling into place until the true cost became horrifyingly clear. Not just any memory. The happiest one. The brightest. The most precious thing I possessed. To surrender it would mean losing it forever, having it stripped from me so completely that it would be as though it had never happened at all.

And yet, if the cost of freeing Aedric was a single memory, however precious, what right did I have to hesitate? Once it was gone, I wouldn’t mourn it. I wouldn’t even remember enough to miss it.

So what did it matter, really? Memories were dead things. Shadows of moments that no longer existed except within the confines of our own minds. Even the precious ones had a way of haunting you, drawing your thoughts backward toward things you could never touch again. Perhaps I would be lighter without it. Freer. Perhaps surrendering it would be a kindness to myself rather than a loss.

High above, Rìan stared down at me, his brows drawn together so tightly that even from this distance I could make out the deep lines between them. His fingers worked frantically against the hilt of his blade, straining against the silk that bound him.

The expression he wore was clear. A warning. A plea. Perhaps both.

But it changed nothing. This was the only path I could see.

I dragged my gaze from him and looked back at the Spinner.

“Agreed.”

The creature chittered with delight, and the sound turned my stomach.

“Release him first.”

“Drop your blade, and I will release him.”

Its many eyes remained fixed upon the dagger still angled over my heart.

It didn't trust me any more than I trusted it. I would have to make myself vulnerable first—place my life entirely within its reach and trust that a monster starving for centuries would honor its word.

Slowly, I lowered my knife and tossed it in front of me. Immediately, the Spinner kicked it into the underbrush.

A loud crack split the air as the strands binding Rìan snapped all at once. His body crashed through the canopy in an explosion of breaking branches and falling leaves before striking the forest floor with a brutal thump somewhere in the undergrowth.

Silence followed.

He was still alive—he had to be. I was still breathing. I could still feel the bond.

Another blood midge flitted past, and my pulse lurched. Was it drawn to Rìan? Was he lying somewhere in the bushes, bleeding out? My gaze tracked it through the trees. It darted between the trunks before veering deeper into the forest, its buzzing fading into the distance. I let out a slow breath.

The Spinner edged closer, filling my entire field of vision. Whatever patience it had possessed was gone now, stripped away by anticipation until only naked hunger remained in its many eyes.

“Now.” The clicking in the Spinner's throat rose to an eager rattle. “Your memory.”

Every instinct screamed at me to back away, to run. Somehow, I held my ground, staring up into its hideous face. My heart pounded so violently it felt as though it might burst through my ribs.

“How?”

The creature's eyes glittered. “Lift it to the surface. I will do the rest."

Its mouth opened, and those awful, brittle appendages extended toward me. I squeezed my eyes shut. I felt them brush my skin first, almost tenderly, tracing the curve of my temples and forehead. Then the barbs bit deep.