“Don’t shoot anymore!” she yelled down to Teo. Her voice echoed, joining the clattering sound of the spider’s claws against the walls.

Just then, one of its long, hairy legs wrapped around her shoulders. The breath left her body. Her grip on the handhold loosened as the beast tried to tug her off.

She tightened her grip again, knuckles straining as she fought against the spider’s force. With her other hand, she lifted the dagger again and swept it across the leg holding her, barely missing her own neck. Then she buried her blade deep into one of its bulbous yellow eyes.

It jerked backward, releasing her, and her feet slid with the sudden movement. She cried out as her hands grasped for purchase on the ladder, but as she did, the flare tucked under her arm fell—breaking with a loud crack on the tunnel floor below.

Shadows fell around them.

For a moment that seemed to last hours, she simply clung to the wall and wished she could disappear into it like she’d used glue to detach from her body, her fears, her memories.

She couldn’t see Teo, she couldn’t make out her blade in front of her, and her own hands were invisible in the darkness.

The only light came from the spider’s yellow eyes. Its legs scratched against the wall, its eyes moving closer to where she clung.

If it got another leg around her, it would rip her from the ladder, and she would fall to her death.

She’d join her parents in the mass graves. Kohl and Bautix would win.

With a sharp exhale, she ripped her dagger from the spider’s eye. It jerked wildly. One leg dealt a blunt hit to her face. A claw scratched her elbow. Warm blood cascaded down her arm, but she hardly felt the pain.

Aina swept her dagger across the spider’s face. It lost its balance, legs scratching against the walls to try to grab on to something. She swung out her blade again, and it connected with a hairy limb.

Gritting her teeth, muscles straining, she sawed her blade through the leg until it detached. Blood drenched her arm, hot and thick.

Then the spider fell, crashing onto the tunnel floor a moment later. Its shell broke with a resounding crack.

Aina sucked in air as if she’d just come up from underwater. She imagined hundreds more spiders descending on her from above and she froze on the wall, fingers clinging to the handholds so tightly, she feared they might break. A cold sweat broke out on her forehead. The blood from her wound trickled down her arm, but she felt no pain. Her pulse still pounded as loudly as the spider’s claws had scratched against the wall.

“Did it hurt you?” Her voice echoed, oddly loud in the aftermath of the spider’s attack.

“It clipped my shoulder, but it’s nothing that won’t heal. Are you okay?”

“No,” she said immediately, then winced. “Wait, yes. I’m fine. It just scratched me.”