“I don’t give a fuck about your reckoning,” I spit out, feeling the web shake now as the spider gets closer in my line of sight. “I want you to free my father.”
Death laughs dryly. “I figured. And so what’s your bargain?”
“Me for him,” I tell him without hesitation. “You save me from this spider, you take me as your prisoner, you let my father go.”
Silence falls. The web continues to vibrate.
“Or,” he muses, “I could just let you die. Do you know what happens when a not-dead mortal dies here?”
“I’ve been told,” I say, my voice trembling now, the fear starting to eat me alive.
“I could just let you die,” he goes on. “And keep your father. And maybe one day when I tire of his company, I’ll bring him here and feed him to my new spider friend and you both will share the same fate.”
“No!” I scream, tears rushing to my eyes. “Please! I will do anything. Anything you wish, anything at all, just let my father go. You don’t even have to save my life, let me die here, but please let my father go.”
Another weighty pause. My heart is pounding so hard that I can’t tell if it’s shaking the web or the spider that’s slowly getting closer, its massive shape starting to block out the light.
“You would really do anything for him?” he asks carefully.
“Yes!” I cry out adamantly. I knew from the beginning that if my father was in this situation, where he was taken by Death and still alive, that I would trade my life for his. I would trade my soul. I would take his place and let Death do his worst to me.
“I promise you, I will do anything you want. I will endure anything you wish. I will cook you meals and clean your house, or you can chain me up in your basement, keep me in a cage, you can torture me, have your way with me, give me to others, make me your bride, treat me like a dog, beat me, spit on me, I don’t care. I will do it all, if you just let him go.”
The spider is almost on me now. I see a glint of fangs, about as long as my forearm, and my spine starts to prickle at the nauseating thought of getting stabbed there.
“Please,” I add pitifully.
“Hmmph,” Death says slowly, too fucking slowly. “A trade.”
Fuck. I’m going to die. This is it.
“You did list off a lot of things, some of which aren’t relevant, some which are intriguing,” he continues. “I really don’t like the idea of letting a shaman go, though. It’s not good for them to have too much power. You saw what happened to your redheaded boyfriend.”
He’s not my boyfriend! I think and then almost laugh, because this is probably going to be my last thought before I die.
The spider is right above me now. I manage to turn my head to finally look at it, getting a glance of its leg and the five iron claws at the end. Of course this thing has claws, made of iron no less.
It stops and rears up on its back legs like a horror-show horse, the fangs glinting, and hundreds of red eyes gleaming like balloons of blood.
Hell.
Death sighs dramatically. “Fine.”
There’s a pause, a swooshing sound, and then the web violently shakes. The spider crashes to the sticky threads, one of its giant hairy legs narrowly missing me, and I realize that Death jumped on top of it.
The spider immediately goes still, dying instantly.
I crane my head up to look at Death as he gets off the spider like he’s dismounting a horse, and makes a show of putting one of his armored gloves back on his hand, and for a brief second I see his bare skin, which is covered in lines of pulsing silver.
Then he walks over to me, balancing gracefully on the web. He looms over my body, his figure larger than life, his cape black and flowing behind him, hate burning in the depths of his unseen eyes, and I realize that perhaps it would have been better had the spider ended me.
I’m about to find myself on another web, Death lurking in the shadows, waiting for me to tremble.
Chapter 9
The Liekki? Plains
Death reaches down and grabs me by the elbow, hauling me to my feet, my skin screaming in pain as the web stretches and pulls and finally lets go. It feels like half my flesh goes with it.
I nearly fall back into his arms and it’s then that I realize how fucking huge Death is. He’s at least a foot taller than me, which makes him what, close to seven feet? And his hand is the size of my head, and I don’t think that’s because of the fancy metal gauntlets.
“Having second thoughts, fairy girl?” he asks and before I can answer, lifts me up so that I’m thrown over his shoulder, like a caveman would do to a kidnapped bride.