spoken to back at Krugen’s.
She doesn’t want to be saved, he realized, but at the moment there were needs beyond hers to consider.
“ Cross!” Stone shouted. He and Graves had fought their way through the crowd and caught up with him. “What the hell are you doing?”
“ Good question,” one of the sentries asked. “You got business with our merchandise?”
“ Merchandise?” Graves asked angrily. “You’d better be joking, you ass.”
Stone shot Graves a look, but it was already too late. The departing crowd was massed around the entrance to the arena, which thankfully meant that the three of them had some time before any more of the White Spider’s thugs could respond to the situation. Cross had his bare fingers dipped in another pouch of powder, a fine crimson dust that sent a burning chill straight up the nerves of his arm and back down into his gut.
“ What’s it to you, Shorty?” the guard sneered at Graves. The guard’s head was arched up so that he could see, and one hand was on the hilt of his large-caliber hunting revolver.
The other two sentries and the Vuul stopped.
That meant there were four of them, along with the Vuul, down in the pit with Cristena, while Cross, Graves and Stone, in spite of possessing the higher ground, had no actual weapons and were on the other side of a protective wire mesh fence.
The hell with it, Cross told himself. Stone stepped up to the edge, where he would likely do something intelligent like negotiate a peaceful resolution. Well, Cross thought, surprising himself, I guess I’ll put a stop to that.
“ She’s coming with us,” Cross said. He sounded much more confident than he felt.
“ Are you here to rescue me?” Cristena asked him. Her voice was distant and cold. “What makes you think I need your help?”
The guards laughed. Cross nodded at Cristena, motioning that she should drop to the ground. She looked confused, but she nodded back.
“ You just had that ‘Damsel in Distress’ look about you, I guess,” he smiled. He felt Stone and Graves’ befuddled looks without needing to actually look at them. The sound of the frantic crowd had faded to a background haze. There in the arena, everything had turned quiet.
“ I don’t need you,” she said. Her eyes went down. The guards laughed again, but their hands hovered closer to their pistols. Cross’ chest felt so tight he thought he might implode.
“ Maybe not,” he said. “But I need you.”
His hand flashed forward. Cristena dropped to her knees and pulled her hands over her head. Necrotic red powder fell onto the guards’ exposed faces. Their flesh went black and bloody when the poison dust entered their lungs and eyes. Their screams erupted in liquid spurts as acid chewed its way down their throats and tore their stomachs apart.
The other two guards left the Vuul and charged at Cristena with their blades. Cristena stepped back, sideswiped the first guard and sent him careening into the wall with a roundhouse kick. Her spirit moved with her, around her, an extension and a shield of herself. It was invisible to Cross, but he recognized the pattern of movement, and he sensed the bitter cloud of acrid magic and the swirls of black dust that the spirit left in its wake.
The second sentry brought his blade up, but Cristena swept his blow aside, used her momentum to keep him off balance, and in a quick series of spin thrusts used her scimitars to take both of his arms off at the elbows.
Stone and Graves kicked their way through the mesh fence and leapt into the pit. Graves landed on the guard that Cristena had kicked against the wall. He took hold of the guard’s head and pummeled the man’s skull against the stone until he stopped moving.
“ What the hell?!” Cristena yelled at them. “Why did you come here?!”
“ Wait, do we know you?” Stone asked. Stone didn’t know her, Cross realized, but Graves probably remembered her from the Black Hag.
Cross was the only one still on the main floor. The crowd was gone, and more White Spider sentries were on their way.
Cross moved to leap down, but his eyes caught on the Vuul, still down in the pit, silent and still.
“ Guys…” Cross said.
The Vuul stared back at him. Its muscles tensed, and its anvil-like fists clenched. Even with the chaos in the background Cross heard those steel-like bones tighten. The Vuul’s blank expression didn’t change, and his solid white eyes didn’t blink.
Cross had no doubt the Vuul could kill all four of them.
After a moment, however, the Vuul stepped back, and he nodded to the open door that led to the tunnels beneath the arena.
“ Let’s go,” Cristena said.
“ Wait…” Graves began, but Cristena was quick to cut him off.
“ You can stay here if you want,” she snapped. “I don’t care one way or another.”
Cross leapt down into the pit. He landed with less grace than usual, righted himself, and followed Cristena out of the arena. Graves and Stone were right behind them.
She led them into a dark and narrow network of subterranean passages, the underbelly of the White Spider. The air down below was cloying and tight, and it smelled of sweat, urine and fear. They heard the growl of the Spider’s sentries in the distance behind them.
Cristena guided them through a veritable labyrinth of short and claustrophobic tunnels that wound up and around. Side passages led to torch-lit rooms filled with weapons, chemicals and bodies; Cross guessed that serving narcotic drinks and staging violent pit brawls weren’t the only shady activities the proprietors of the White Spider were involved in.
Cross’ heart pounded as they raced through the tunnels, but after a few minutes he didn’t hear any sounds of pursuit. There was no telling how deep or how far they’d gone.
Finally, when the smell of sewage had grown so strong that Cross had to use smelling salts on himself to keep from getting sick, Cristena stopped.
They stood at a four-way intersection of greasy and slime-coated tunnels. Vents released gouts of superheated steam into the dank underground air, and a narrow stream of mucus, grime and muck slithered down the tunnel in a nauseating flow. Dank brown water oozed down from the ceiling like gritty rain. Thick sewer grates stood in the diagonal walls of the intersection, and an ancient and rusted iron ladder led straight up, where it vanished into darkness.
“ The ladder will lead you to the surface,” Cristena said. “So do me a favor and get out. You’ve done enough damage.”
“ Damage?” Graves said, exasperated. “Honey, we just saved your life.”
“ Thanks for nothing, then,” she bit back. “I didn’t ask for your help.”
“ No, you didn’t,” Stone interjected. “But we’re asking for yours.”
Cristena laughed. She was exasperated, Cross thought, maybe surprised, and undoubtedly angry. With all of that, Cross was glad that all she did was laugh.
“ That’s a pretty funny way of asking for my help,” she said with a mean-spirited smile. “Of course I’ll help you! You busted in on my fight, started a mass panic, and you made it so that there’s no chance I’ll ever be able to talk my way back into the Spider ever again. I owe you SO much!” The smile faded. “I hope there’s something horrible waiting up there for you. I really do.”
Cristena stalked past them, back the way they’d came.
“ Why did you help us escape?” Cross asked her. He saw the spider in his mind, the white spider from the field on that day that he and Snow had visited their mother’s grave. The same spider he’d seen in Krugen’s, when he’d learned that Cristena’s husband was among those lost in the search for Red. The same spider that was the name of the place where they’d found Cristena.
I’m supposed to be here, he thought. That’s the deal with the spider, it has to be.
Cristena hesitated.
“ Because I know why you’re here,” she said. She still faced the other way. “And I want you to succeed.”
