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the Valkyries might have said in response, because at that moment, the queen let out a yowl like the cry of a cat, and attacked.

Poppy jumped, stumbling, but Mack hauled her up again. Nula was a panther at her side.

“Run!” Poppy said, and they ran, the clash of metal ringing through the woods behind them, and a rising wail in the wind.

She didn’t look back, but to either side of them Poppy could see spiders through the trees, keeping pace with them, as the handmaidens in their black saddles watched.

“They’re waiting for us to get tired,” Mack shouted.

“What are we going to do?” Poppy gasped.

Nula let out a fierce roar.

“She’s right,” Mack said, panting for breath. “We’ll have to fight. How’s your aim?”

Her lungs burned already, but Poppy stammered, “Th—the net gun? What good will that do?”

They veered left as Mack led the way. “Lots, if you hit the spiders’ legs,” he called back. “The handmaidens won’t leave them, even if the spiders fall.” He launched over a fallen log, turning to make sure Poppy cleared it too. “My mother says they’re connected somehow.”

Poppy shivered—whether it was from the breeze against her sweat-covered skin, or the thought of being bonded to a gigantic spider, it was hard to say.

The spiders weren’t getting closer—weren’t attacking—but they were staying near, the handmaidens’ black eyes never moving from their quarry.

Poppy reached back as they ran, tugging the net gun free. Aiming was almost impossible. There was no break in the trees, and Poppy lost two nets trying to aim between them. “This isn’t working! We need a clearing!”

Nula snarled and pulled in front, leading them away to the east.

“There.” Mack pointed ahead of them. “The trees thin out over there.”

“Are you sure?”

“Nope! But Nula seems to know what she’s doing.” The panther’s paws kicked up dirt, and the spiders stayed with them to either side.

The trees did thin out, and Poppy quickly took aim, firing a net at one of the three spiders to her right. It wrapped around two of the spider’s legs, toppling it so that it rolled, end over end, throwing its handmaiden from the saddle. “One down!” Poppy whooped.

But she was out of breath. It was getting harder.

“Keep going,” Mack wheezed. There was a hiss from her left and one of the handmaidens lifted something, pointing it at Poppy. She dodged, just as a blob of black goo flew past her and hit a tree.

“What is that stuff?”

“Web, I think,” Mack panted. “Hit another one, Poppy. Hurry. We can’t keep this up much longer, and there are a lot more of them.”

Poppy aimed at the one that had shot at them, and missed. One quick look at the cartridge told her she only had three nets left.

She aimed again—and this time hit one of the spiders to her left—though still not the one that had shot at them. “There are five still chasing us,” she yelled, tripping over a stick, and catching herself just in time.

Silently, two of the spiders broke away, peeling out of the trees to run behind Mack and Poppy.

Poppy’s throat was raw. Something hit her in the back, hardening instantly. She stumbled forward with a grunt. It was harder to breathe now. She caught sight of thorn trees in the distance. Another glob of web flew past—this time from the right, and this time, it hit Mack.

It had a cord.

Without pausing to think, Poppy pulled her knife and sliced the cord. All she could think of was the thorn trees, with their whips that reeled you in. She wasn’t going to let these handmaidens get their hands on Mack.

Another thwack as a glob hit the back of her knee. “Mack!” she cried out as it hardened, making it impossible to bend. She fell forward.

With a grunt he threw her over his shoulder, and put on a burst of speed.

“Head to the thorn grove,” Poppy called as his shoulder dug into her guts. There was a pause, and then she felt him nod.

“Nula! Follow us,” she cried, and forced the top of her body to lift so she could aim the net gun. Without having to focus on running, she hit one of the spiders directly behind them, and then the other.

“Three left,” she called to Mack as the last of the spiders and handmaidens moved behind them, chasing them down.

The trees cleared. Black soil and old scattered bones crunched under Mack’s feet. Thorn trees glittered all around them, stretching as far as they could see.

Mack had slowed.

Nula raced past.

“Keep going!” Poppy shouted. “Don’t stop for anything!” She pushed her hands into Mack’s lower back, straining to see behind them. Her net gun—empty now—was still clasped in her hand. She held her breath, then let it out again as the last three spiders followed them in.

As if the pounding of all those feet had woken the thorn grove up, whips smashed the ground behind and in front of them. Mack half ran and half danced to avoid them.

The spiders were huge targets with nowhere to hide. Their handmaidens didn’t last long. The whips plucked them off the spiders’ backs, wrapping them in coils as they flew through the air.

The handmaidens didn’t make a sound.

The spiders kept pushing forward, but didn’t last much longer. The first one got wrapped in the whips of two different trees that wrestled for their prize.

Poppy looked away, squeezing her eyes shut.

Mack was breathing hard. “Hold on, Poppy,” he said. “We’re almost through.”

A few more seconds, and they would be safe on the other side.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

They fell out of the thorn grove and onto the forest floor, panting and sweaty. Mack closed his eyes, his face contorted with pain. Poppy’s head pounded from bouncing as Mack ran, but she blew out a breath and turned to examine Mack’s face. “Thanks,” she whispered.

His copper eyes cracked open, and he gave her a twitch of a smile. His cheeks were flushed. “Thanks yourself,” he said.

She grinned at him.

Nula lay on her back, clutching

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