Jason ran with the cocoon clutched against his chest, its warm, pulsing surface pressing into his leather cuirass. The silk was slick, almost wet, and every few steps something inside shifted and squirmed.
The tunnel shook around them. Dust filled the air. Cracks spread across the walls like veins.
They burst out of the narrow passage and into a wider chamber—and standing there, weapons drawn, bodies battered, were Helga and Mira.
Helga's dark eyes went wide. "Little meat! You're alive!"
"Barely!" Jason gasped, skidding to a halt.
Mira's amber eyes swept over the group—Ylva, Thalion, Mae, and Jason clutching the strange cocoon. Her tail flicked once.
"Where's Kaelen?" Jason demanded, his chest heaving.
Helga's face fell. Her grip tightened on her warhammer.
"The queen," Helga said, her voice low. "A spider queen. She took him. Dragged him into the darkness. I couldn't stop her."
Jason's blood ran cold. "Is he alive?"
