led deeper into the Lowlands. His hands clamped around it, and he managed to half-hook one of his legs around it in his wild grab. The inertia spun him slightly as he started his controlled fall down the pole.
He glimpsed a black shadow with thin legs and what looked like giant fangs. Then it was gone. Jacob looked to the left as he fell, and he almost broke into tears. The cliff face near the Square writhed with movement. He couldn’t make out what was moving, only that there were a great many things laying siege to the walls.
He barely noticed the lift before he smacked into it. Jacob tightened his legs and slowed his descent as much as he could, but the impact was still brutal. His ankle throbbed as he bounced off the grate and fell to the ground.
Jacob ran as hard as he could, and the pain in his ankle vanished in his panic. He passed the broken wall from the night before. Then he heard it again. A glance backward showed him shattered roofing tiles strewn across the cobblestones. He raised his eyes and choked back a scream.
Long, spindly obsidian-black legs propelled a Widow Maker across the rooftops. It moved effortlessly, calmly stalking Jacob as he pushed himself even harder. Somewhere in his mind, he knew he couldn’t get away. There was no way to survive an attack by a Widow Maker. He ran, and tried to think, and then—
He remembered the whistle.
Jacob stumbled as he pulled the silver whistle out of his pocket. He wanted to shout with joy when he saw it hadn’t been destroyed in his fall. He clamped his hand over all twelve holes. He lifted the middle finger of his left hand as he exhaled, followed by his ring finger. He covered all the holes of the whistle again and blew into it as hard as he could.
It cost him more breath than he had. His pace slowed. Something clicked above him, but Jacob couldn’t bring himself to look back. He ran as best he could, but it seemed like he’d been running forever. His breath grew ragged, and roofing tiles still cracked onto the cobblestones behind him. The observatory may have been closer than before, but still too distant for shelter. Maybe the Widow Maker wouldn’t realize he could hide in a building. Charles could help, if he could just—
“Jacob!”
He glanced back toward the voice. The Widow Maker was close. So very close. Its fangs were raised, along with its front legs. The spider readied itself to strike.
Samuel’s lance cut through two of the Widow Maker’s legs, and the beast fell from the roof. Its carapace crunched as it hit the cobblestones, and Jacob watched in awe as the Spider Knight leapt from Bessie’s back and ran his sword through the Widow Maker’s head. Blue blood ran into the gutter as Samuel jerked his sword free.
“You have to get to the city!” Samuel said.
“No, Charles and my parents!”
“That old man can take care of himself.”
“No!”
“Dammit, boy.” Samuel looked at Bessie. She tentatively touched the dead spider with her front legs. “Get on.”
Excitement warred with sheer terror as Jacob swung up behind the Spider Knight. He wrapped his arms around Samuel’s waist, and the knight urged Bessie forward at a bone-jarring pace.
“Your parents are already headed into the city. They were the first block we evacuated to the lift.”
Jacob didn’t say anything. Something unknotted itself in his gut. They still needed to find Charles.
The streets grew more vacant the farther the trio sprinted into the Lowlands. The observatory loomed into view, and Bessie shot up the hill. When they were close to the door, Jacob leapt off the saddle.
He stumbled as he hit the ground, ramming his shoulder into the front door. “Charles!” he shouted as he pushed on the handle and threw open the door. Jacob stopped immediately.
A strange round cylinder was pointed at his face.
“Jacob,” the old man said, raising the cylinder away from Jacob’s head. “Not safe to come barging in at a time like this.” He flipped a
He glimpsed a black shadow with thin legs and what looked like giant fangs. Then it was gone. Jacob looked to the left as he fell, and he almost broke into tears. The cliff face near the Square writhed with movement. He couldn’t make out what was moving, only that there were a great many things laying siege to the walls.
He barely noticed the lift before he smacked into it. Jacob tightened his legs and slowed his descent as much as he could, but the impact was still brutal. His ankle throbbed as he bounced off the grate and fell to the ground.
Jacob ran as hard as he could, and the pain in his ankle vanished in his panic. He passed the broken wall from the night before. Then he heard it again. A glance backward showed him shattered roofing tiles strewn across the cobblestones. He raised his eyes and choked back a scream.
Long, spindly obsidian-black legs propelled a Widow Maker across the rooftops. It moved effortlessly, calmly stalking Jacob as he pushed himself even harder. Somewhere in his mind, he knew he couldn’t get away. There was no way to survive an attack by a Widow Maker. He ran, and tried to think, and then—
He remembered the whistle.
Jacob stumbled as he pulled the silver whistle out of his pocket. He wanted to shout with joy when he saw it hadn’t been destroyed in his fall. He clamped his hand over all twelve holes. He lifted the middle finger of his left hand as he exhaled, followed by his ring finger. He covered all the holes of the whistle again and blew into it as hard as he could.
It cost him more breath than he had. His pace slowed. Something clicked above him, but Jacob couldn’t bring himself to look back. He ran as best he could, but it seemed like he’d been running forever. His breath grew ragged, and roofing tiles still cracked onto the cobblestones behind him. The observatory may have been closer than before, but still too distant for shelter. Maybe the Widow Maker wouldn’t realize he could hide in a building. Charles could help, if he could just—
“Jacob!”
He glanced back toward the voice. The Widow Maker was close. So very close. Its fangs were raised, along with its front legs. The spider readied itself to strike.
Samuel’s lance cut through two of the Widow Maker’s legs, and the beast fell from the roof. Its carapace crunched as it hit the cobblestones, and Jacob watched in awe as the Spider Knight leapt from Bessie’s back and ran his sword through the Widow Maker’s head. Blue blood ran into the gutter as Samuel jerked his sword free.
“You have to get to the city!” Samuel said.
“No, Charles and my parents!”
“That old man can take care of himself.”
“No!”
“Dammit, boy.” Samuel looked at Bessie. She tentatively touched the dead spider with her front legs. “Get on.”
Excitement warred with sheer terror as Jacob swung up behind the Spider Knight. He wrapped his arms around Samuel’s waist, and the knight urged Bessie forward at a bone-jarring pace.
“Your parents are already headed into the city. They were the first block we evacuated to the lift.”
Jacob didn’t say anything. Something unknotted itself in his gut. They still needed to find Charles.
The streets grew more vacant the farther the trio sprinted into the Lowlands. The observatory loomed into view, and Bessie shot up the hill. When they were close to the door, Jacob leapt off the saddle.
He stumbled as he hit the ground, ramming his shoulder into the front door. “Charles!” he shouted as he pushed on the handle and threw open the door. Jacob stopped immediately.
A strange round cylinder was pointed at his face.
“Jacob,” the old man said, raising the cylinder away from Jacob’s head. “Not safe to come barging in at a time like this.” He flipped a
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