He grumbled his disappointment and began packing the tent. I stuck to my resolve, even though I kept stealing glances at him as he worked.
I dug through Daphne’s bag and found some snacks and skins of water. I sat and ate as Paris worked. We had wandered from the road, but it wasn’t far. The mist was thinner now in the morning light, and the road shone in the suns, the only place where the rays could fully break through the canopy. Our way was lit in tones of silver and white.
I leaned back against the tree as Paris finished clearing the campsite. A gasp ripped from me when I saw the mass of webs in the canopy above us. The spiders were there, black eyes peering out from spherical nests hung far above the forest floor.
A few smaller spiders—babies, no doubt—were scrambling around on the webs, as if they were playing. They were actually almost cute, in a way. But when a larger spider darted out, scooped them onto its back, and hissed at me, I gulped. Needle teeth? Not cute.
“They slept above us all night, you know. I could hear them.” Paris admired the mass of twisting webs and hanging spheres. “It’s kind of beautiful.”
“Sure, but the sooner we’re out of here the better.” Needle. Teeth.
“If Arachne was telling the truth”—he spared another glance to the network of white above their heads—“then we’re leaving our only sanctuary in the Darkwood.”
Of course, he was right. We needed to stay cautious. Far better the spider creature you knew than the one you didn’t.
When I finished my brief meal, I realized Paris had to be hungry, but he couldn’t eat what Daphne packed. A pleasant tingle went up my spine at the idea of him drinking from me. I batted the inappropriate thought away. I was a warrior, not a snack. “Paris, do you, um, do you need to eat something?”
He knelt down next to me, his eyes twinkling. “Are you offering?”
A rush of heat blasted through me at the too-real thought of his fangs at my neck. “We both need to stay strong.” My voice was breathy, though I tried to control it.
He smiled, his fangs lengthening slightly. “As much as I would love to take you up on the offer”—he leaned in, so close to my neck that I held my breath—“I can go several days without blood. Besides, I can smell blood in one of Daphne’s skins. She packed for me. Like you said, she’s smart.”
He reached around me, his arm grazing my breast, and grabbed one of the skins. When he sat back on his haunches, I tried not to sigh. The corners of his lips twitched up before he took a big swig, drinking his fill. He watched me as he drank, as if imagining he was tasting me, and I felt a tingle at my neck where he had been. Gods.
I stood and lifted my pack. He followed my movements, his eyes focused on my body. Ignoring the warmth that coursed through my blood, I started toward the road.
Paris stowed his breakfast and followed me, matching my pace. The visibility was increasing as the suns rose higher and fought back the mists that otherwise ruled these woods.
We picked our way over the roots and around bubbling pits of black muck to follow the road deeper and deeper into the wood. Soon, there were no more webs above us, only the dark tree limbs and rare patches of sunlight. We stopped to rest at midday, sitting with our backs to a great tree. The trunk was so wide I doubted if five of my sisters could join hands around it.
“How much farther do you think it is until the keep?” I munched on some delicious fruit I’d found packed away. It had a bitter green rind, but the inside was sweet and velvety. I’d need to plant a tree that bore this fruit near the maidens’ village in the Forgotten Forest.
“We have another day of travel at least. Maybe two.” He tilted his head back against the bark. “And I still haven’t heard your grand plan to get inside the gates of the Bloodkeep.”
I didn’t want to inform him that I hadn’t thought of one yet. I needed to get the lay of the land first. Surely, there was an entrance, some way to get into the keep other than parading through the front gate. And then I’d figure out a way to exploit its weaknesses and bring it to heel.
“We have to go through the front gates,” Paris said. “There’s no other way in.”
I coughed, almost spewing fruit. “How do you know? I thought you’d never been there.”
“I haven’t, but there’s a reason Desmerada has lasted this long when there are plenty of other pretenders to the throne out there. Security. No one gets near her unless she can use them and abuse them at her pleasure. They have to be weak or useful, preferably both.”