𝐆𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐇 [Jason Grace]

50

𝐃𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐭.

He had fractured his rib. He'd been chased across a chasm by an army of spiders. Now, in severe pain, with his chest burning with every breath, and carrying three daggers between the two of them, they faced Arachne—a monstrous half-spider who wanted to kill them and make a commemorative tapestry about it.

Oh joy.

In the last few hours, Dante had shivered, sweated, whimpered, and blinked back so many tears that his body simply gave up on being scared. His mind said something like, Okay, sorry. I can't be any more terrified than I already am.

The monstrous creature picked her way down from the top of the web-covered statue. She moved from strand to strand, hissing with pleasure, her four eyes glittering in the dark. Either she was not in a hurry, or she was slow.

Dante hoped she was slow.

Not that it mattered. Dante was in no condition to run, and he didn't like their chances in combat. Arachne probably weighed several hundred pounds. Those barbed legs were perfect for capturing and killing prey. Besides, Arachne probably had other horrible powers—a poisonous bite, or web-slinging abilities like an Ancient Greek Spider-Man.

No. Combat was not the answer.

That left trickery and brains.

The best duo.

In the old legends, Arachne had gotten into trouble because of pride. She'd bragged about her tapestries being better than Athena's.

Dante didn't know about pride. But he knew about what Athena had done, turned the weaver into the first Spider. In a way, he and the goddess shared that. Excessive reactions, excessive anger, excessive wrath.

Sometimes he just took things too far, like his hatred toward Jason. He often had to reel himself back in when he got too angry at someone. Being petty was in his nature. And he often took it too far, even in pranks.

Sometimes he got tunnel vision and focused on nothing else except his anger. The burning of it in his chest felt good in the moment, but later it left him cold and alone.

As for pride, Dante had known Annabeth for a week now, and if he had to guess, that would be her fatal flaw.

But could they use that weakness against the spider? Maybe if they stalled for time... though he wasn't sure how stalling would help. Their friends wouldn't be able to reach them, even if they knew where to go. The cavalry would not be coming. Still, stalling was better than dying.

He tried to keep his expression calm, which wasn't easy with a fractured rib. He moved toward the nearest tapestry—a cityscape of Ancient Rome, because he'd rather eat all the tapestry than look at the one of him and Jason.

"Marvelous," he said. "Tell me about this tapestry."

Annabeth gave him a warning look, as if to ask what he was doing.

Trust me. He signed.

Arachne's lips curled over her mandibles. "Why do you care? You're about to die."

"Well, yes," Dante said. "But the way you captured the light is amazing. Did you use real golden thread for the sunbeams?"

The weaving truly was stunning. Dante didn't have to pretend to be impressed.

Arachne allowed herself a smug smile. "No, child. Not gold. I blended the colors, contrasting bright yellow with darker hues. That's what gives it a three-dimensional effect."