Araneae Nation: The Complete Collection

by Hailey Edwards

  Asher sat beside me and pulled a waterskin from his pack for us to share. He handed it to me first, but I passed it to Pascale. When she leaned forward, her dress shifted to expose her ankles. They were raw and bleeding where the silken chains had cut into her skin.

  My hand went to my mouth. “Why didn’t you say something sooner?”

  “I knew what I signed on for.” She covered her legs. “It will heal.”

  It would, but gods knew it had to hurt.

  A tensing in my stomach forced me to find a new place to look. The smell of Pascale’s blood hit my nose, and the hunger that had been mercifully absent since Edan’s abduction reared its ugly head.

  Asher’s quiet told me he was piecing together what the issue might be. He reached into his pack and brought out one of the packets of dried meat Lleu had passed around earlier. Asher pressed one strip into my hand before tearing another in half and sharing it with Pascale. She took it and chewed.

  Once I trusted myself, I began eating my portion. Eventually, the worst of the hunger subsided.

  “Is it always like this?” Pascale studied the blurred landscape. “I never noticed before.”

  “Yes.” I took another bite. “I stumbled into the crossroads the first time. That or Idra brought me there. The second time was a fluke, or more trickery on her part. In between, there were attempts to find our way there that met with nothing but exhaustion. I’m starting to think this is one of those.”

  “Lleu may be waking,” she said quietly. “What if he comes searching for us?”

  I didn’t have an answer for her.

  “He won’t fall for that trick but once,” Asher chimed in. “He won’t let you go a second time.”

  “All the more reason why we should forge ahead while we can.” She grimaced when she stood.

  Asher and I rose as well, and that was when I saw it.

  Mist rose in a twisting column and spread over the ground in a cobbled texture.

  I had taken a step forward before Pascale eased in front of me.

  “What is it?” She kept a hand on my shoulder. “What do you see?”

  “The road,” I whispered, afraid any acknowledgment might make it disappear. “It’s there.”

  “I don’t see anything.” She squinted. “Asher?”

  “I see it.” He put a hand on my other shoulder. “We go together.”

  “Together.” As the words left my mouth, I knew I would give them a chance. If they failed, then I would go alone. All this aimless wandering was making me crazed with grief and fear and worry.

  Pascale shuddered. “Should we unpack the sigils?”

  “We might not get another chance.” I was pulling at Asher’s grip, ready to break into a run.

  “Keep hold of her.” Asher delved into his pack and withdrew the tin. “Will this work?”

  “I don’t know.” I shrugged clear of Pascale. “Let’s find out.”

  As before, once we reached the mist, I could step onto the cobbled road with ease. Asher saw it, but even with the sigils in their tin, his feet passed through to the ground. Pascale was blind to it all.

  “What if I held it in my hand?” He was already twisting the lid.

  I gasped when he opened it and husks blew from the container.

  Nestled inside were two metallic wasps with their shiny wings flexing. The bolder of the two lit on the edge of the tin while its antennae tasted the air. The other buzzed at us and cleaned its feet.

  “Marne.” Asher froze with the tin in his hands.

  Sweat beaded his brow. As the first crept nearer to his fingers, his hand trembled.

  Instead of crawling onto him, it launched into the air. Without thought, I leapt up and caught it in my hand while Asher slammed the lid shut over the other. The sigil in my grip buzzed angrily at me. Its stinger raked across my palm, but it didn’t puncture my skin. It found the tip of my thumb, and its pinchers snapped shut. I screamed and flung my hand to rid myself of the thing.

  Its mandibles had drawn blood, and the coppery scent made the sigil in the box frenzied. Its hum had grown so loud I winced. The sigil that had bitten me dove at my head, tangling itself in my hair.

  I swatted my scalp, screaming and yanking my hair as its weight tugged my head backward.

  Its feet tickled down my nape. Before I got a firm grip on it, the sigil plunged its stinger in me.

  Heat spread from that point, lighting my veins on fire, leaving me panting on the ground.

  Asher knelt by my head. His lips were moving. His hands were on me.

  But all I heard was Idra’s cackle. All I felt was her sickly nail plunging once again into my soul.

  Chapter 15

  I woke with a shudder, eyelids heavy and skin flashing hot. Asher’s knees were inches from my chin. He covered his face with his hand, shaking his head at something Pascale had said to him.

  She noticed my eyes had opened first and grabbed the hand I had lifted to check my neck.

  “Don’t touch it.” She struggled with me. “You don’t want to make things worse.”

  “Worse?” Hysterical laughter bubbled up my throat. “There’s a sigil burrowed in my neck, and you think things can get worse? Idra can summon me now. You don’t understand. She owns me.”

  I shoved upright and onto my knees. My heart pounded in time with my head. My head…

  “I don’t hear her.” I rubbed my face. “Before it was instant—I heard her. I heard all of them.”

  “What is she talking about?” Pascale asked under her breath.

  “Harbingers are all connected. When one infects you or ensnares you with its song, you can hear them all.” He glared at the box in his hands. “If Idra has control of Marne, then we have a problem.”

  Despite Pascale’s warning, I reached my hand behind me and touched the sigil. The plates covering its back were warm from my skin and hard beneath my fingers. At my touch, it hummed, raising its head, encouraging me to caress it.

  I jerked my arm down, and it resettled at my nape.

  “I don’t think it’s Idra’s sigil.” I swallowed the sick taste in my mouth. “I think it’s mine.”

  Pascale curled her upper lip. “What does that mean?”

  “It means she can make her own harbinger if she wants,” Asher snapped.

  “Why do you sound angry with me?” I wrapped my arms around myself. “I didn’t ask for this.”

  “Not with you.” He glared at the box in his hand. “I’m angry at her for doing this to you.”

  “She couldn’t have known how things would unfold.” She was clever, but she wasn’t an oracle. “If she had meant to make this happen, she would have, I don’t know, imprinted the sigils on her. Yet she didn’t.” I put a hand over my queasy stomach. “Get the box ready. If I can remove it, then we can—”

  “Wait.” He wiped a hand over his mouth. “Just give me a minute to think.”

  “We’re running out of time.” The misty road beyond him was fading. “You two stay here.”

  “No,” he snarled. “I’m not letting you go alone, especially not saddled with her sigil. This might be a ploy to fool you into believing you’re safe. If you lower your guard, she will come for you.”

  “He’s right.” Pascale circled behind me. “We have to be smart about this.”

  “Give it to me.” He held out his hand. “If it can be removed, then I will carry that one.”

  Pascale stopped her inspection of my back. “What about me?”

  His eyes were grave when they met mine. “We’ll think of something.”

  He was thinking all right, of leaving her behind.

  “Here we go.” I shook out my hands, breathing in and out until my frantic heart steadied. With my pulse under control, I forced calm thoughts into my mind before using the familiar path that Idra tread when contacting me to seek out the sigil. It was harder than I thought it would be. Its mind was bright and sharp, not Araneaean at all. A moment of connect clicked loud in my head, and then I touched it
.

  The persistent hum that was its voice remained calm, constant.

  “Come to me.” I held my palm flat and willed it to release me, to take flight.

  Relief left me limp when its pinchers retracted, and it alighted on my hand.

  “Thank the gods,” Asher murmured.

  The tiny creature’s bronze head tilted, studying Asher in a way that chilled me to my marrow.

  “It’s hungry.” I sensed its need for flesh surging through our link, and it stirred my own cravings.

  Asher glanced past me. “We have to hurry if we want to test our theory.”

  He was right. The road was little more than wisp and smoke.

  “Go to him,” I instructed the sigil. “Do not harm him. He is not prey.”

  A high-pitched buzz disagreed with me, but the sigil spread its wings and glided over to Asher. It perched on his elbow and, fluttering, it hopped up to his shoulder, where it nestled against his throat.

  His eyes crushed shut for a solid minute. The hard lines around his mouth creased deeper.

  “You don’t have to do this.” I couldn’t stop myself from reaching up to touch my nape.

  The two small spots I had thought were insect bites were now protrusions from my skin.

  The sigil hadn’t been burrowing into me as it would a host. Its mandibles had been closing over one of what felt like two tiny pins. They must be made of bone. My gorge rose, feeling such alien features under my hand. Necrita carried sigils close, because those nubs reminded me of the pegs on which a person hung their tools.

  “You don’t have to do this, either.” Pascale passed me the waterskin to rinse out my mouth.

  “My brother’s in there.” Even warm, the water helped. “Would you leave Henri at their mercy?”

  “No,” she said without hesitation. Her brow creased. “What in the second world is he doing?”

  Asher jumped up and down in the whirl of mist where the cobbles began. The heels of his boots made a clacking sound on impact. He still looked ill from carrying the sigil, but his grin was smug.

  “You did it.” He walked farther down the path. “The sigil worked.”

  I noticed he had abandoned his pack. “Where is the other one?”

  “In the tin in my front pocket.” His voice echoed.

  “Asher?”

  He stood where he had before, but I saw through him now. He was fading.

  The crossroads were vanishing and taking him with it.

  “Grab the sigil,” I yelled to Pascale as I ran for Asher.

  I grasped his outstretched hand. Instead of making him solidify, it muted me too.

  “There’s no time.” Pascale hiked up her skirt, ripped a leather belt from her thigh and tossed it to me. “Here. Take this.” Her eyes narrowed. “Marne?” She stepped forward. “Asher? Where are…?”

  Her voice faded into the bustling sounds of the town we had only caught glimpses of until now.

  Warm air laden with spices blew hairs into my eyes. Around us, colors splashed and voices rose in all the chatter one would expect in a town on market day. Stalls lined both sides of the street and stretched beyond my eyesight. Laughter brought my head around in time to see two young girls, both wearing sigils, bound into the air. Their game of tag took flight as they whirled and giggled away.

  “What is this place?” Asher turned a slow circle.

  “I have no idea.” The smell of meat drew me to a vendor’s cart.

  A lovely young female offered raw cubes of various meats on a skewer with a medley of sauces.

  Hoping I might get her to open up, I smiled. “That looks delicious.”

  “Thank you, sister.” She licked her lips upon spotting Asher. “Did you bring your own?”

  “No.” It seemed like the safest thing to say.

  “Ah.” She winked at me. “Then you are welcome to help yourself.”

  I lifted the skewer, mild alarm churning in my stomach. I ought to be repulsed by her offering of raw meats, but the scent made me hungrier than ever. The sauces were red, yellow and brown. Each had a spicy scent, one more than the others. I dipped my finger in it and brought it to my mouth for a taste. Heat exploded on my tongue. I coughed until Asher passed me the waterskin with a frown.

  He bent his head to mine. “Are you sure you should be eating what they offer you?”

  “What harm can come of accepting their hospitality?” I knew the harm, but it was as though my stomach had taken control of my mind—and my mouth—and was willing to say anything to get fed.

  I chose a cube of darker meat, dipped it in the yellow sauce and swallowed almost without chewing. My eyes rolled closed in appreciation. This was what I had been missing. This flavor was what I had been craving. It was so familiar, as though I had tasted it before. I took the next cut of meat in hand.

  When I brought it to my mouth, the scent hit me. I sniffed it, curling my lip. “What is this?”

  The vendor cackled like I had told her the most amusing thing she had ever heard.

  She gestured toward Asher. “What do you think it is?”

  The meat fell from my fingers, and the piece I had just eaten stopped up my throat.

  That’s what she meant? Had I brought my own? My own sacrifice? My own meal?

  Asher took my tray from the female’s cart. “She will finish this while touring the market.”

  The vendor squeezed his biceps as a butcher might test a varanus for tenderness. “I bet she will.”

  He slid his arm around my waist, under my drooping wings, and led me to a small table between two of the larger buildings. I thought they might have been grocer’s stores, though the whole of their market appeared to serve meats and condiments. The rawer the product, the longer the line stretched.

  A female with dark skin and sleek brown hair approached us. “Are you new to the city?”

  “Yes,” I said slowly.

  “I thought you must be.” She wet her lips in Asher’s direction. “I would have remembered.”

  “Are there many new visitors to the town?” I wondered.

  “More than I can count.” Her wings flexed. “More of our sisters arrive every day.”

  That explained the crowds. “They travel the crossroads to get here?”

  “There is only the one way in or out.” She chuckled. “You are new.” She reached for my hair, a smile on her lips and a curious glint in her eyes. “Who is your maker? Did she ask you to wait here?”

  I swept my hair over my shoulder, covering my scar. “I belong to Idra.”

  “Oh.” The female eased back a step. “I won’t trouble you then.”

  “You’re no trouble.” I forced a smile. “Thank you for the welcome.”

  “If I might…” Her eyes remained downcast. “Pets are discouraged here.”

  “He’s not a—” I jumped when Asher kicked me under the table.

  “He’s a feisty one.” Her gaze darted to mine. “I can see why you keep him.”

  “Feisty is a good word for him.” I leaned over and patted his cheek.

  Asher kept a neutral expression, though his eyes glinted.

  “Pass my best wishes on to the mother.” She turned and made her way to the next gathering.

  I leaned across the table. “We have to get you out of here.”

  His sigh annoyed the sigil on his shoulder, which I was suddenly grateful was nestled against his neck. It must have convinced the girl he was taken, which I suppose added to her impression he was a pet and not my next meal. Why infect a male you would later eat when healthy food tasted better?

  Rubbing my temples, I groaned. Justifying eating a healthy person over a sick one was wrong.

  “A city populated by beautiful females,” he said, “and each one eyeing me for their next meal.”

  “Be thankful you didn’t try any of the local delicacies.” I shuddered. “I should have listened.”

  “You would have before we arrived here.” He frowned. “Something here has affected you.”


  “I hope you’re wrong.” I had changed enough as it was. I would not change yet again.

  “Where do we go?” He kept his tone hushed. “Where would you expect to find Idra?”

  I studied the town and its charming quaintness. None of these buildings resembled homes. There was no sign of life beyond this square that I could see. The crossroads town couldn’t end here. There must be more I wasn’t seeing. To find Idra, we must explore the rest of the city. Daunting as the task seemed, considering when the females looked at me they saw a person who enjoyed playing with her food, it had to be done. Edan was here somewhere. Tempted as I was to reach out to Idra for clues, the longer we kept her ignorant of our arrival, the safer we all were. I didn’t trust the impulse either.

  Asher was right. This atmosphere was seeping into my bones and settling new weight upon them.

  “She would be someplace high, I think.” I drummed my fingers. “It’s the oddest sensation. As if I have been here before, but I don’t remember this town or these people, and I wouldn’t forget this.”

  He put his hand over mine. “You don’t talk about how Edan found you. Or where.”

  “I don’t remember.” I laced our fingers. “I remember the room where I was kept with the others. It was tall and wide and open from skylight to the ground. I remember going to sleep one night in my bed there, with the rest of my covey. The next thing I recall is Edan’s face and the biting cold.”

  “Could he have found you here?”

  “I don’t see how he could have or why he would have kept it secret from me.” No, that made no sense. “He would never have entered the veil, knowing this place existed. We would have avoided it even if that meant living in the northlands and being dependent on one of those clans’ hospitalities.”

  The grim twist of his lips conveyed doubt.

  “The female who was just here said there have been more harbingers arriving daily. That means they’re crossing into the veil and then again into the crossroads. That means harbingers are spawning out there, then bringing their fledglings here for the metamorphosis. They have to stay somewhere. It might be that they have a safe place farther south, nearer Fortunia.” I wished now I had pressed Edan harder for details, but I had been desperate to forget and all too eager to let the secrets of the past lie.