Aelin was going to be sick. She was sure of it. She was certainly sure that this was the worst situation she had ever been in. Being held upside down by a bloodthirsty giant spider, whilst swinging violently to and fro, with nothing to protect herself with apart from a slightly melted dagger and her fire magic, was something she prayed she would never do again. Gods, Rowan would kill her.
They had been travelling for some time now, but Aelin was not sure for how long, as all her blood had gone to her head and she felt extremely dizzy. She wondered where exactly they were taking her. Now she had had time to look around, there were about five spiders in the group, the smallest being about the size of fleetfoot, and the largest (the one carrying her), the size of one of the horse drawn carriages in Rifthold. She knew that they would not attack her yet, but she still kept her magic close to the surface of her skin, so she could use it quickly if it came to it. She wondered if the spiders could sense her magic, the flickering inside her veins. Perhaps they had never met a fae before. She clung to that thought like a lifeline. It would definitely give her an advantage if they hadn't.