Araneae Nation: The Complete Collection

by Hailey Edwards

  If I had been Asher, I don’t know that I could have stood my ground the way he did.

  He lifted his sword and faced her down when she turned and charged him.

  He couldn’t outrun her. He had just proven that. But I could.

  I pushed myself harder than I ever had, until my wing joints popped, but I reached Asher before she did. Luckily, he was too shocked to fight me as I slid my arms around his waist from behind and lifted him off the ground. “Hold on.” Try as I might, I couldn’t get him higher than a few feet before the sow attacked. She stood on her hind legs and roared, swiping her paw and catching my ankle.

  “Put me down,” he yelled. “My sword is useless like this. She’ll kill us both.”

  I opened my arms, and he dropped to the earth, rolling to his feet a moment later.

  He ducked beneath me and faced the sow, sheathing his sword to the hilt in her chest.

  The ursus groaned, her paw uncurling to release me. She sat at first then toppled onto her side.

  Asher jerked his blade free. “Don’t look.”

  I looked. I couldn’t tear my eyes away as he cleaved her head from her neck.

  Yellow liquid poured from the wound and mixed with the dirt.

  The fight left me drained, so I landed with a hiss.

  Asher hurried to my side. “How badly are you hurt?”

  “It’s not too bad.” I tried putting weight on the foot and failed.

  Asher wiped his hands on his pants. “May I?”

  “I— Wait.” I gasped when he scooped me into his arms. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m taking you back to camp so I can examine you.” He shifted me to the right, then to his left. I was in danger of spilling my stomach before he asked, “I’m not pinching your wings, am I?”

  No one else would have cared about such a trivial thing under the circumstances. Not even Edan.

  “They’re fine.” I hesitated before I linked my arms behind his neck. “You don’t have to do this.”

  “Let me have my fun.” He smiled slightly. “I might not have this chance again.”

  Warmth spread up my neck and into my cheeks. “I doubt you’ve dreamed of this moment.”

  He seemed rather pleased with himself. “How do you know what I’ve dreamed of?”

  “I don’t,” I admitted. I had been so absorbed in my own troubles my whole life I hadn’t thought much of what males might dream, let alone this particular one. “Though it seems unlikely you wished I would be mauled by a crazed ursus so you would have an excuse to carry me.”

  “I would never wish you harm.” He carried me so delicately my wings neither trailed over the ground to be trampled on nor crunched against my back while we spoke of plague and death. “Even if the result put you in my arms.”

  I chuckled at the gleam in his eye, relieved by his attempt at levity. “You are ridiculous.”

  “I won’t deny that.” A frown tugged at his lips. “After all, you have seen me at my worst.”

  “Help me find my brother, and all will be forgiven.”

  If there was an added spring in his step after my bribe, I pretended not to notice.

  Males are such prideful creatures after all.

  Chapter 12

  Afternoon bled into night as I sat and stared at the veil, willing Idra to appear and taunt me to my face. But she didn’t magically appear, didn’t hum through my mind, and the longer I stewed, the more furious I became. Thanks to her, I would never have a normal life. I was dependent upon the charity of others to keep me alive, and that gift was extended with the sole purpose of indebting me so that I would have no choice but to do as I was asked by any of the parties involved. To refuse was to die.

  Though I had not been asked any favors as of yet, I knew the day was coming. War was coming.

  Araneaeans could not turn a blind eye any longer. The Necrita were parasites feasting on us. There was no time left for fear or doubt. This was a time for action, and I was coiled and ready.

  “What are you thinking about?” Asher paused in his doctoring. “Even your toes are clenched.”

  My skirt was hiked up to the knee on my wounded leg. Already the skin knitted itself together, but Asher was determined to clean the jagged claw marks. He had rubbed in a healing salve and now was using a scrap of fabric to wrap my leg. He kept finding ways to touch and soothe me, as if I was a wild thing he tempted from the sky into his arms. It was as though he used his gentleness to bind me.

  “I’m thinking exactly what you think I’m thinking about.” From spite, I wiggled my toes at him.

  “We will find him,” he said earnestly. “I promise you that.”

  The validity of his promise hinged on the trust we had not yet established, not completely.

  Yet I wanted to believe his offer of unconditional aid, and so I did, with all my heart.

  I studied his handiwork on my leg. “How did you learn to dress wounds so efficiently?”

  “I’m a Mimetidae guardsman.” He chuckled. “Either we learn to patch ourselves up, or we bleed to death young.” He rooted through his pack and produced a container of white willow bark for tea.

  His amusement made me wonder. “Do you like what you do?”

  “It’s all I know.” He shrugged. “I like it well enough.”

  “Hmm.”

  He rested his hand on my knee. “Is that the start of a question or a decision not to ask one?”

  His thumb smoothed absently over my skin, and chills swept the length of that leg.

  “I was about to ask something rude,” I confessed.

  “Yes, we partake of the flesh of our enemies. Yes, we believe it is the will of the two gods. Yes, I do regret the death of even one undeserving person dealt by my blade, and no—” he cut a mischievous glance my way, “—I had no part in what happened with Lleu and that poor hen. I was in the guard tower when I heard it clucking for mercy.”

  Laughter burst from me, so loud I clamped a hand over my mouth. Part of me knew he was trying to distract me from the problem of finding Edan. The other was so grateful for diversion that I let his wild story enthrall me.

  “What happened to the hen?”

  He made a twisting motion in front of his mouth. “We vowed never to speak of it.”

  “You, sir, are a rotten tease.” I pulled on my leg, but he held tight. “Can I have that back?”

  He feigned a deep sigh and released me. “I figured you might want it returned eventually.”

  I threw my skirt over my exposed skin. “I do need it more than you do.”

  “I’m not convinced.” He was close enough to reach out and touch the edge of my wing. “You do have these, after all. Even without your leg, you could still travel. Really, if you think about it, it’s a hindrance.” Tingles danced in the wake of his tender caress. “I might even trade you a leg for those.”

  I wrinkled my nose. “What would I do with an extra leg?”

  “Use it to kick suitors where it counts when they need it,” he suggested.

  “I have none.” I shivered as he neared my wing joint. “You are the only male I’ve ever kicked.”

  “Then I’m honored to be your first.” He lowered his hand. “But once others realize you aren’t already married, they will flock to you in droves.”

  I ruffled my skirt. “The real surprise would come when they unwrapped the bride.”

  “People fear what they don’t understand.” He shook his head. “They fear what they know too.”

  “It’s a nice dream.” I pinned my cape back in place. “But who would accept me as I am when I can’t?”

  “I would,” he said without looking at me.

  While he examined the horizon, I studied him. His neat hair was disheveled. His eyes reflected the warmth of his humor and the fading sun. His lips were taut, neither smiling nor frowning. His plump lower lip lent him the appearance of a boy who was pouting, which made me laugh under my breath.

  His head swung toward me. “I wasn’t awar
e I had said anything amusing.”

  “I was thinking of the hen,” I said to spare his feelings.

  Harsh lines had returned to crease his forehead. “I don’t believe you.”

  “I wasn’t laughing at—at what you said.” In fact, it was easiest to pretend he had said nothing.

  “Then what?” he demanded.

  I studied my hands. “I was thinking how your expression reminded me of a young boy pouting.”

  He grasped my chin. “Mimetidae do not pout.”

  “I didn’t say you were pouting.” I traced his mouth. “It’s your lips, the way the bottom is fuller.”

  The fire in his eyes heated in a different way. “You’ve noticed the shape of my mouth?”

  I set my shoulders back. “I tend to look at the mouths of those who speak to me.”

  His hand shifted from my chin to my jaw. “How long have you been familiar with mine?”

  “It depends,” I said stubbornly. “When was the first time you spoke to me?”

  “Your second day in Erania, Henri introduced us.” He didn’t hesitate. “You were wearing a pink gown with a fur-trimmed cape of the same color.” He glanced down. “I remember seeing your toes.”

  I tilted my head. “How can you remember that?”

  “You were—you are—the most beautiful female I have ever seen.” He shook his head. “When I saw you that day…” He swiped his thumb across my bottom lip. “I thought I would give anything to have you smile once at me the way you did at Henri.” He laughed, I think at himself. “I was prepared to throw myself on Henri’s mercy to learn anything about you, but then he said you were married. It was like showing a starving male a prime cut of meat, sitting him at the table and putting a goblet of wine in his hand then eating each bite where he could watch as you savored what he could not have.”

  “What would you have done, if Henri hadn’t said I was married?”

  “Something foolish.” He glanced aside. “I come from a poor family, a poor clan, and all I own is the small house where my mother and sisters live. I inherited it. It’s more Mother’s house than mine, and she turned me out when I was fifteen.” He seemed proud of that. “Clothes on my back, the gold I keep in a trust in Erania, that’s all I have. I could care for a wife, but not one as fine as you are.”

  I dropped my head into my hands. “You are richer than I am, then.”

  His puzzled expression was laughable. “Your clothing—your manner—I just assumed.”

  “I am not nobility.” I parted the fabric of my skirt and raised it to my thigh. “Far from it.”

  “That’s a slaver’s mark.” He leaned closer. “The sun and wave crest—you’re from Fortunia?”

  “I was born there. I lived there until the plague swept through the city and Idra found me.”

  The rest of my story I told in fits and starts. How my parents were indentured servants. How the contracts they signed stipulated they might pass their debts on to Edan and me, as their parents had before them.

  I told him how my parents had at least shown us the kindness of allowing us to go to our master together. Our birthdays were almost ten months to the day apart. Facing such uncertainty with my brother by my side gave me the strength to endure even the cruelest treatments, because we were all we had.

  Time would have tested my resolve, but I felt certain then that if I birthed a child, I would rather serve out my time than place such a burden on the shoulders of the young and the innocent.

  “I had no idea,” Asher said after I had finished.

  “Slaves are educated better than all but the upper castes in Fortunia. They demand their servants to be informed and elegant, as pleasing to the eye as to the ear.” My fingernails shifted to claws, and I stabbed them into the ground. “Yet until Henri gave me clothing, I owned none of my own. Everything we have, except for Edan’s sword, is due to the hospitality of the Araneidae.”

  He clamped a hand over my wrist and held it over his lap. “One thing I’m curious about is how did Edan find you?” He used a dull blade from his pocket and cleaned the dirt from under each sharp claw. “How did he rescue you?”

  “The plague started in the south, near Siciia.” I frowned at him. “It swept through Fortunia then up the coast from there. It does seem backward when you think about it. If harbingers were safe within the veil, why not infect Beltania first and then work their way south? Once the southlands fell, then they could turn their attention northward. Either way, the veil would be their sanctuary while it hid them.”

  He stopped cleaning long enough to cast me a shrewd look. “You have a militant mind.”

  “I have a militant brother.” Edan and I had discussed this topic many, many times.

  “Good point.” He finished one hand and moved to the other.

  I jerked out of his grasp. “This is your reaction?”

  “What would you have me do? Tell you I’m outraged on your behalf? I am. Tell you Edan dealt your master the fate he deserved? He did. I would have done the same. But I can’t absolve your guilt or his. I can’t change any of our pasts, though I wish I had that power. I won’t say I pity you. I don’t. I won’t even say I empathize with you when I do.” He released my hand, cleaned the blade and pocketed his knife. “You’re too stubborn to appreciate nuance, and I have no interest in fueling your anger.”

  I frowned. “You have left me with no cause for offense, and yet I feel I have been affronted.”

  He tapped his chest. “The burning sensation is your pride smarting.”

  I compressed my lips.

  He laughed.

  “You are less amusing than you realize,” I groused.

  “Only to those who are averse to being amused by themselves.” He stretched his legs in front of him. “No one has a perfect life, no matter how flawless it may appear from the outside. None of us can ever know the grief another has suffered. I have been fortunate. I had good parents, a good home and a career path set before me. I have several friends who have not been as blessed. I don’t mean to lessen the circumstances that shaped you. I mean only to point out you have broken that small mold. Pay the past respect, but don’t allow those events to govern your future. You are not that person.”

  I tested the soreness of my leg. “I think I liked you better when you scowled and grunted at me.”

  He twisted his face into his best scowl, the expression far more familiar than his smile.

  “There.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “Is that any better?”

  “It’s too late now.” I sighed for dramatic effect. “You’ve proven yourself kind and capable.”

  He jerked his chin aside, shunning me. “Flattery will get you nowhere with me.”

  “Fine.” I rotated my tender shoulders. “You’re a brute. Satisfied?”

  He tilted his head. “As I said, flattery will get you nowhere.”

  I laughed at him, and he uncrossed his arms and made himself comfortable.

  I tried following his example, but I couldn’t settle my nerves. I had too much else on my mind. I found my gaze slid more and more often from our small camp toward the veil. Wherever Edan was, I knew he lacked the companionship I had found in Asher. It was getting late. If I waited much longer, I would have to put off our next expedition until tomorrow. I was tired and hungry, but I didn’t care.

  I wanted my brother back, in whatever condition Idra had left him.

  “I’m going to try my luck again.” I got to my feet and dusted out my skirt.

  “I’ll go with you.” He grabbed his supply pack as he stood.

  “You don’t have to.” I touched his shoulder. “You must be tired and hungry.”

  “No more than you are.” He reached into his pack and dropped a bag into my hand. “Here.”

  “What is it?” The contents shifted like small stones.

  “It’s not much.” He shook his own bag. “It was the best I could do on short notice.”

  Intrigued, I pulled the drawstring and revealed a mi
x of nuts and dried berries.

  I popped a handful into my mouth and crunched. “They taste better than I remembered.”

  He followed suit. “Hunger has a way of making even the most unappetizing meals delicious.”

  “We should get going before we lose the light.” I began walking, and he fell in step beside me.

  Entering the veil was as unpleasant a sensation as I remembered. Inside was as still and watery as always. The landscape blurred around us. We were the only two clear outlines in the place it seemed.

  We walked quietly for a while, eating our rations and straining for unusual sights or sounds.

  Asher bumped his shoulder into mine. “Do you see that?”

  I followed his line of sight. “I don’t— What is that?”

  “Let’s find out.” He took the remains of our meals and stored them in his pack then slid his hand easily into mine. When I raised my eyebrows, he shrugged. “It’s simpler than unpacking the rope.”

  I didn’t contradict him. I might have even interlaced our fingers.

  After all, I wouldn’t want to get lost.

  Together we approached the thickening swirl of mist, and the closer we came, the more the area under our feet resembled a cobbled path. More defined shapes twisted into existence before us, and I ran for them. My feet hit the stone path crisscrossing the main road, but the cobbles vanished under my weight. I pulled Asher behind me as we cut a swath through the misty illusion and got nowhere.

  He tugged on our linked fingers. “Let go of my hand.”

  I did as he asked, and the buildings surrounding us gained more substance. I grasped him again, and what had been clear a second earlier faded into dreamlike softness. “You can’t come with me.”

  He clamped his hands over my wrist. “I won’t let you go alone.”

  “I have to.” I jerked free of him, surprising us both. “This might be my only chance.”

  “Idra is luring you to her.” He extended his hand. “Don’t let her trick you into running headlong into a trap. If you take this road, she will ensure you can’t follow it back—with or without Edan.”