Page 134 of A Thief Among Fae

“Another bandit camp,” Finnian comments.

At least there aren’t any fomorians in this chamber. Rodent-nibbled bedrolls lie around a stone fire pit with a spit balanced over it. Each rock is covered in a fine layer of dust. Smashed urns and lockpicks litter the dirt ground, more signs of the raiders who were here long ago. Two draugr corpses are slumped against the rock wall, their shriveled heads a few steps away.

Desmond halts before the two diverging tunnels. Auri holds a finger to her lips, and the three of us wait as he turns until he’s made a full circle.

The vigilant pounding of my heart drowns out the silence. There’s something different about this tomb. I feel it in the air. Something older, darker, more violent.

Movement above us catches my gaze. I look up, and a shriek claws out of my throat. Spiders lurk in webs stretched across the chamber ceiling, bearing the same teal mark as the ones in the corridor. These aren’t tiny. They’re at least five feet wide, their twitching pedipalps as big as my hand. One crawls directly above me, its eight shiny eyes reflecting our torchlight.

My hand trembles as I slowly unsheathe my dagger.

Finnian glances up and wobbles, his face paling so quickly I think he might faint.

“Oh, I forgot to mention them,” Auri blithely says.

A spider in the corner spits venom. Desmond dodges just in time. The venom splats on the draugr corpse and melts its desiccated flesh.

“Holy Danu!” Finnian yelps. “You forgot to mention giant spiders?”

Auri sighs. Lightning streaks from her fingertips, striking each of the spiders. An acrid scent fills the chamber as they drop. One lands on Finnian. He screams, shoving it off him.

For several heartbeats, silence reigns. Then Desmond clears his throat. “Are we ready to go?” he asks, as though the spiders didn’t faze him.

I examine the chamber. Old Avedoran is engraved across the stone walls. There are divots where I assume precious stones were inlaid, only to be pried out by thieves. It’s a shame we weren’t here first. I read the words and laugh under my breath. There’s some nonsense about a curse that can siphon magic from the land, and within it is a familiar rune.

“Mallacht,” I whisper. It was written in the underwater barrow, too.

“You can read Old Avedoran?” Desmond asks me. He sounds impressed.

“Of course I can. Solving riddles has saved me from a trap or two.” With our lone torch, I illuminate each of the two branching pathways. Old Avedoran is engraved on the wall between them. “It says something about two doors opening one.”

“Two doors that must open stand before the one,” Desmond clarifies.

I roll my eyes. Show off.

“We have to split up,” Desmond says.

I clear my throat. “I’ll go with Desmond.”

He freezes. A second passes, and he raises a brow. “You would rather test your luck with me than a lightning-wielder?”

“Stuck in close quarters, Auri may not be able to wield her Gift,” I point out. She could just as easily kill us all. Count me out.

Finnian snickers. “Does that decision have any other reasons?”

“If you and I take the same tunnel, I might be persuaded to let the draugr have you,” I retort.

He sidles up next to Auri. “Suppose it’s you and me, then.” Then he stares down the left tunnel. A low creak echoes. Finnian lets out a sound between a squeak and a laugh. “Ladies first.”

“Usually the archer takes the rear, but I don’t bother arguing with cowards,” Auri says with a vicious grin. “Runners don’t make good meat shields.”

“I’m not a runner,” Finnian argues. He holds his pack in front of him like a shield as lightning crackles in Auri’s palms, illuminating their way.

They head down the tunnel, leaving Desmond and me alone.

He unsheathes his sword. I indulgently imagine his arms flexing underneath his gambeson. “Please don’t insist on going first again,” he says. “I won’t let anything harm you.”

The sound of please on his lips makes my knees weak. So does his protectiveness, but this isn’t the time to relish it. With how quickly he can incapacitate his enemies, I’m not sure I’ll keep arguing to go ahead of him, anyway.