Page 31 of Damned and Broken Gods (Labyrinth of Gods #2)

Don’t Look ’Er In The Eyes…

BLUE

T here’s sumthin soothing about books. The way they don’t judge ya. The varied spine thicknesses, the smell of leather and old paper. The texture. I don’t mind giving ’em a dust. It’s the scrolls that piss me off. One wrong move an’ the fuckers are rolling.

“Why dontcha store ’em better?”

Bhoomika looks up from whatever she’s working on at ’er small desk. “How would you store them, Blue?”

Urgh, I hate when she answers me question with a question of ’er own. “Dunno. Not like this.” I point at the pile of scrolls in a wooden box. “Howdya even find anything in that lot?”

“We don’t often need to use the scrolls,” she says. “Most have been transcribed into books, translated in some cases.” She goes back to ’er scribblin’.

I set to work on the scrolls with the duster, stiflin’ a sneeze.

Not a bad work assignment all in all. Bhoomika ain’t too bad.

And she lets me ’ave cake. We been working this for a few days now, old rooms with ancient books and scrolls, stuff that don’t get checked out.

Forgotten stuff. There ain’t any natural light in ’ere, too damaging to the books, but me ratty eyesight can mek everythin’ out just fine.

Shelves that stretch up to the domed ceiling.

Loads a cobwebs up there, but there’s no way I’m disturbing Madame Spider.

I sense her, weaving, watchin me. She’s a biggun.

Ancient, I feel it. I ain’t botherin’ ’er, no siree.

I leave ’er be, she leaves me be. Pretty sure she could gobble me up, but pretty sure she knows I’m off limits, anchor an’ all.

I work in silence for a while, but silence gets borin’ pretty fast. “Hey, Bhoomy, you heard anythin’ from the demigods on Shantivan?”

“You ask me every day, and the answer is the same.” There’s a smile to her voice. “There is no news.”

“Ain’t they gonna be takin’ the test soon? They’ve been gone two weeks.”

“It would have taken them a week to reach the island. They probably haven’t even been introduced to the Shattiraksha yet.”

“The whatty-what?”

She looks up with a smile. “The Shattiraksha are ocean beings, warriors, children of the Kaalmukha named Vairanya, the last of her kind. They are vessels that an ascended rides when battling aquatic threats.”

“What kinda threats?” I hop off the small ladder and wander over to ’er desk and into the full glow of the lantern light. “You got sea monsters now?”

“The devouring force has minions on land, in the air, and in the sea. Shantivan is a prime location for attack. The waters can be dangerous there.”

“Wait, ain’t there humans livin’ there?”

“Yes. Humans and a tribe of water djinn living in harmony.”

“If it’s dangerous, then why let ’em live there?”

She frowns at me. “You do ask a lot of questions.”

“Yeah, but ya still adore me.”

She rolls her eyes.

“You made me a fuckin’ apron.” I pinch the corner of the apron with the tiny pockets, the softest thing I own. Me first outfit. Bhoomy is making me more, some pants, a shirt, she’s a dab hand with the needle. “So?”

“So what?” she asks, perplexed.

“Why they got people livin’ there?”

Bhoomika sighs. “I have no idea why. It is the way that it is.”

“Cop-out answer if ya ask me. Aren’t you meant to be the keeper of knowledge an all that?”

She sets her quill thingy down and fixes me with a stern look. “Aren’t you meant to be cleaning?”

“Spoilsport.” I get back to work, but I can’t stop finkin ’bout that island and how dumb it is to ’ave civilians livin’ there if it’s so dangerous.

Why ’ave humans living in domes and stuff on the mainland to protect them, and then leave other humans on an island surrounded by sea monsters?

S’pose it’s okay. Sea monsters can’t go onto the land so?—”

“Oh, for goodness sakes, Blue,” Bhoomika snaps. “Can you please stop muttering?”

“Eh?” I look over at ’er, and she’s all bright-eyed with annoyance. “Sorry, chick.”

She sighs and pushes back her chair. “How about I make us some tea?”

My ears perk up. “You got any more of that cake from the other day?”

She cracks a smile, cos heck, how can she stay pissed at me? “I do. I’ll be right back.”

She leaves, and I get back to work, scampering onto the shelves behind the crate of scrolls so I can dust the back.

If I’m gonna do this, it’s gonna be done well.

Gotta admit, I got a cushy deal here. Cake and tea, and Bhoomika ain’t bad company.

Not Leela level company, no one beats that, but she’s all right.

I scamper higher to get to the scrolls at the top.

The books ’ere are old and dusty. I’ll need to give them a brush-off too.

It’s like no one’s cleaned ’ere for ever.

Urgh, I take a breath, and dust shoots up me nose.

I sneeze, and sneeze, and sneeze, so focused on clearing me nasal passages that I barely register the shift in the air until a shadow falls over me.

Me fur stands on end, me muscles tense, and I look up, real slow.

Up into a million dark eyes that hold me face.

Madame Spider stares back at me.

I want to speak, to say sumthin remind ’er I’m not on the menu, and then her voice fills my head—soft and sibilant.

It’s waiting for you .

She lunges, and I do the only fing I can. I fall. Into the fucking crate. Deep into the scrolls.

It’s waiting… ’Er voice drifts away. For you…

The alarm bells ease off. Not on the menu, then. Not today. My head feels odd, like she’s still inside it. Urgh. I shake it. Fucking hell. It’s pitch-black in here. Papery and dark. Got ta find me feet. Get out.

I meke to move, an’ somefin’ catches me eye.

A glow? Down ’ere? What is that? Instead of climbing out, I burrow deeper.

Toward the glow. What is it? A small scroll.

Tiny, in fact. It could have been tucked inside a larger one.

Looks like one of them message things you send by carrier pigeon.

The scroll glows from inside, like it’s holding a light.

I can’t ’elp but touch it. The glow intensifies, and I’m not sure why, but it feels like this scroll is for me.

It’s waiting for you.

I ’ave ta take it.

I do.

I take it and tuck it inta the pocket of me apron.

“Blue?” Bhoomika’s voice is muffled. “Cake time.”

“In ’ere!”

The sound of rummaging follows, and a moment later, I see lantern light. A hand reaches down. I grab hold, and Bhoomika lifts me out. I stand on ’er palm and dust meself off.

“How did you get in there?” she asks, amused.

I glare up at her. “Ask your eight-legged resident.” I point up at the ceiling where Madame Spider sits in a corner, surrounded by silvery webs, eyes gleaming. Fuck, she’s huge.

Bhoomika looks up at the ceiling with a frown. “What?”

“The spider?”

She chuckles. “You got frightened by a spider? How sweet.”

“Sweet? Look at ’er.” I point at the ceiling, right at Madame Spider.

Bhoomy shakes her head. “I don’t have your eyesight, Blue. There’s no way I can see a tiny spider from all the way down here.”

Tiny? I stare at her, at the mirth in ’er eyes, and realization creeps up on me. She don’t see it. She don’t see Madame Spider at all.