A Time of Dying (Araneae Nation)

by Edwards, Hailey

  “Protecting you.” I cut my eyes toward him. “At any cost.”

  “Your ploy won’t work.” Hishima continued curling his fingers. “She won’t listen to you.”

  “Where is food?” Lailah’s wings fanned a stiff breeze. “You come, you bring food. Where?”

  “See him?” Hishima singled out Murdoch. “He is food. You may have him if you—”

  “If you come down, you will be captured,” I warned her. “You must know that, Lailah.”

  “Food,” Lailah snarled. “Now. Give me. Now.”

  “She won’t be reasoned with tonight. She’s too riled.” Hishima scowled. “Zuri? Take her.”

  Slowly, slowly the Deinopidae crept nearer. Four strung a wide net between them. Two kept their hooked spears in hand. What I had assumed was a sixth male revealed herself to be female. She stood three heads taller than me, almost as tall as Lleu, with thick muscles and sleek black hair.

  She caught me staring and winked. The male beside her elbowed her to get her attention.

  If she felt his jab, she covered it well, opting to hold our contact until I lowered my gaze.

  Dominance established, she smirked at the male and returned to her task.

  Click. Click. Click. Toenails drummed rock. Lailah was debating her options.

  “I will not. Be in chains.” Sand drifted around my head as she hopped. “No. I will not.”

  “Lailah.” Hishima’s tone firmed. “We had a deal. You agreed to—”

  “No.” More rustling of wings, more shifting of claws, and then she grunted.

  There was a meaty thump, and Hishima staggered. He pressed a hand to his head, and it came away bloody. His forehead was sliced open. The wound gaped across his eye where it crossed to his cheek. A rock. She had hurled a rock at him. He shut his eyes to clean them with his shirttail.

  Lips smacked so near my ear I smelled rancid breath. “Hungry.”

  Dazed as he was, that shocked Hishima to his senses. “No.”

  Wind rustled. Dust stirred in my eyes. Blinking to clear them, I missed how his blood ended up on her finger or how that finger reached her mouth. I did see her eyes roll shut in bliss, and the pop of her finger leaving her mouth made me cringe. It was too late to save him. The second she smelled his blood, he became prey. His guards knew it too. They tensed, unsure how to proceed.

  Their moment of indecision cost them.

  Lailah sprung on Hishima. One hand cupped his jaw, the other fisted his hair. Snap.

  It was done. He was dead.

  “Now, Zuri,” a guard shouted.

  The female lunged forward, sank her spear into Lailah’s side and ripped back with her hook. Yellow blood poured from the gash, but Lailah was lost to her feeding frenzy. Zuri struck again.

  “Wait.” I found my voice. “Don’t kill her. We need her alive.”

  “Ha.” Zuri sank her spear into Lailah a second time. “You’re as mad as Hishima ever was.”

  I stepped forward in blatant challenge. “We need proof of the Necrita’s existence.”

  “You’ll have it.” Zuri scoffed. “A dead body is proof that’s less likely to get us all killed.”

  “Are you so certain?” I darted a glance at Lailah. “She can speak, which means we can learn from her what Hishima’s plans were, what sort of alliance he forged with these Necrita. Lailah is the key to understanding what her people are and how they can be stopped. If we kill her now, it will spare us trouble, and yes, perhaps our lives if she escapes, but think of what we might learn. Think of all the lives we might save if we understood them. If Hishima was right and this is war, then I must arm my people with effective weapons, the most powerful of which is knowledge.”

  Zuri bristled as I expected she would. In her anger, she forgot to stab Lailah a third time. Her fellows were less distracted by us. They flung their net over Lailah and reeled her from her feast.

  “Our paladin will reward you for your cooperation,” Murdoch offered. “Consider that.”

  “On behalf of Isolde of the Mimetidae,” Bram said, “I must ask you not to kill that…thing.”

  “Who is Isolde to me?” Zuri chuckled with her comrades.

  “She is the mother of the Araneidae paladin for one,” he said with a smile. “Isolde also pays very well to get what she wants, and what she wants is one of these Necri—harbinger creatures.”

  “Huh.” Zuri leaned on her spear. “Is that right?”

  “It is.” I had no right to agree, but I was certain his words came from Isolde’s mouth.

  “Our own paladin offers Araneidae gold for information on the plague,” the same guard reminded her.

  “True.” Zuri bent down, grasped Hishima’s hand without ceremony, jerked a heavy ring from his smallest finger and tossed the signet to me. “You might want to hold on to that, Maven.”

  “I’m no maven.” I said the words by rote, staring at the ring lying flat across my palm.

  “Your future husband is dead. His mother is, well, she’s got her son’s entrails sticking out of her teeth. No clan is going to follow a maven like that.” She tilted her head toward Murdoch and Bram. “Well, I suppose there are some clans that would, but yours won’t. They’re soft. Too soft. They lost their homes tonight. Their paladin was the last of his line. You were his chosen bride. I reckon that means you’ve just inherited a city of ashes, one nasty infestation and a title, Maven.”

  Maven. I was maven? No. Not like this. Not at this cost. The ring rolled from my palm.

  Zuri’s quick hands saved the fat crystal solitaire from shattering on the rocks at my feet.

  “Here. Let me help you.” She placed the ring onto my stubby ring finger, then tapped the stone. “It’s not pretty, but it makes a statement. It says you’re a survivor. That’s the type of ruler your clan needs. Someone who will keep them fed and clothed and safe until their fortunes turn.”

  I held out my hand. The brilliant stone winked below the gruesome reminder of what Lailah did to me. The metal had been warm from Hishima’s skin. His blood eased its way on my finger.

  She was right. It wasn’t pretty, and it did make a statement. This night the Segestriidae were reborn in fire and blood, and would rise triumphant from the smoldering ashes of our city’s ruin.

  While my shock wore off, Murdoch bartered with the Deinopidae for what they felt was fair compensation for their time. Together they bound Lailah’s hands and ankles with pale gray ropes made of thickly braided silk. Much to my relief, her wings were flattened to her back and bound to her spine using the remnants of our bedroll. One of the guards donated a scrap of fabric for her gag. It was cloth well spent if you asked me. At last my earring stilled, and my hearing returned.

  With our new allies readied and Hishima’s body cooling, I was eager to leave this place.

  “Can you lead us out?” I asked Murdoch. I no longer trusted myself to know the way.

  He inhaled. “Stay close in case there are other nasty surprises ahead.”

  Bram stepped to my side. “I’ll keep an eye on her.”

  “I’ve seen how well you watch things.” Murdoch scoffed, “I’ll watch her myself.”

  “No. You go ahead.” I gave Bram a faint smile. “I’ll stay with him.”

  “Are you sure?” Murdoch glanced between us.

  I didn’t trust myself to say more.

  “We expect to be paid in two weeks’ time,” Zuri informed us, hand on her hip.

  “We best get moving then.” I walked ahead to keep from saying something I might regret.

  Good as his word, Bram stuck to my side. He kept his own council, which suited me fine.

  Though I had been groomed to become the Segestriidae maven, I had left that dream behind me when I fled Hishima. I knew the intricacies of our clan’s standing alliances, knew the state of our coffers, knew that as long as the caverns could be reclaimed, my people had hope of survival.

  Our buildings were made of crystal. Though our furniture and clothing, most personal ite
ms, would be cinders, the houses themselves might yet be inhabitable. After a cleaning and repairs, it might be possible for us to reclaim entire blocks. Even the manor, with its gleaming walls, might yet prove salvageable. I knew where our gold was kept. I was one of three—two now—who did.

  “You shouldn’t hold a grudge.”

  So lost was I in my thoughts, I started at the sound of Bram’s voice.

  I was in no mood to hear his lecture. “Afraid my arms will tire?”

  He laughed loud enough to draw Murdoch’s attention to us.

  “He is the sort of male who can’t see beyond the vows he makes. His maven at the time told him the cure was to remain a secret. He didn’t ask if that was wise, but accepted she felt it was, so it must be so.” He paused when our conversation perked too many ears. “The cure was stumbled across, not developed. What Mana discovered, she did by accident. Surely you can appreciate the need for testing such a tenuous cure. Why spread word the plague was defeated when that might not be the case? Why raise hopes only to dash them if the cure fails during its next trial? Or, as is my personal concern, if the cure is certified but can’t be put to use because of limited resources?”

  “Why are you defending him?” It seemed an odd thing for Bram to do.

  “You and I, we have each lost those most dear to us to the plague.” His laughter was sad. “If I had one more day with my…with any of them…I would bless the gods from dusk until dawn. I would run through the streets shouting benedictions. But those things will never come to pass. It is too late for me. I have lost too much. Your scars, they are not carved as deep as mine. You can start fresh.” He jerked his chin toward Murdoch. “You can marry for love, or the promise of it.”

  Marry for love? After seeing the devastation of that choice? I feared I lacked the stomach for love. “Or I can decide not to wed and focus my attention where it’s needed, on my clan’s future.”

  “I suppose that is an option.” He pursed his lips. “There is the small matter of the protection your clan lacks. I assume recommending my own people would be a wasted breath. Who is left?”

  “The Mimetidae.” I saw where he was going. “In case you haven’t noticed, Isolde’s sons are both married, both quite happy from what I’ve heard. That means unless I wed Isolde herself…”

  Bram’s snorted laughter echoed around us. “That I would pay to see.”

  I sighed. “I’m sure you wouldn’t be alone.”

  “Think on what I said.” He awkwardly patted my back. “I am sorry for your loss.”

  “So am I.” On impulse, I embraced him. Two lost souls and one moment of perfect kinship.

  To my surprise, he hugged me back hard. “Rest well.”

  “I doubt it.” I released him.

  “As do I.” He smoothed a hand down his shirt. “I’ve heard it’s the thought that counts.”

  “Then your tally stands one taller tonight.” With that, I watched Bram go to chase sleep.

  Awareness made my skin flush. I knew of the silent presence at my back before I turned.

  “Will you join me?” Murdoch kept a careful distance from me.

  “I don’t much see the point.” I stared after Lailah. “Our bedroll is taken.”

  “Will you spend the night with Bram?” His tone was cool, serious. “You can’t be alone.”

  I covered a yawn. “Alone is what I wish to be most in this world.”

  “Alone is a reprieve a maven won’t often enjoy.” For once, he placed no mocking emphasis on the title hung around my neck. “I can offer the illusion of solitude, if you don’t mind sharing.”

  “Why not?” He made it clear I had two choices. Either I spent the night with him, or I whiled away hours with Bram in morose conversation. “Where do you intend to manifest this illusion?”

  “Just there.” He pointed ahead to no particular place.

  “All right.” I set out in the direction he indicated. He kept two steps behind me, offering me no instruction. When the rustle of our wayward group faded to a low murmur, I shrugged, glad to be free of their prying eyes and good intentions. Ahead, the path narrowed. A crevice to my left drew my attention. Voices carried through the crack. I glanced at Murdoch. He sucked in his gut and slid between the rocks. Turning sideways, I fit easier than he did. Still, my shoulders and hips scraped. Once I banged my forehead, and Murdoch’s lusty cursing told me he faired just as well. A particularly sharp rock sliced open my arm, and blood warmed my skin, reminding me of what carnage a few drops of blood invited when so near a harbinger. “As much as I’ve enjoyed this—”

  “It’s farther than I thought.” He grunted. “It looked closer from above.”

  Unsure what he meant, I measured the distance back to the path. “Maybe we should…”

  “There.” He caught my hand, and I ignored the warmth in his touch. “Do you see them?”

  Squeezing from between the rocks, I stumbled onto a broad ledge and braced myself.

  I peered over the edge and breathed, “May the two gods be merciful.”

  Below us, gathered in a tight circle, children nestled at its center, were my clansmen. Armed they were, with pickaxes and knives that had previously butchered only fruit. Some bore swords plucked from risers, and a few carried gorgeous ornamental blades that had not seen action aside from their forging since the day their crystals had been mined from this very cavern. I was awed.

  Pride welled in my chest, flushed my heart to bursting, pumped blood into my weary limbs. If I had been nearer, I would have gathered them to me and kissed every sooty cheek and blessed each child that slept in its mother’s arms. Forget illusion. Forget solitude. They were real. Alive.

  Each soul sparkled with the facets of cut crystals to my eyes, their value immeasurable.

  Never before had this cavern produced such riches.

  It was then I realized Murdoch still held my hand. “How did you know I needed this?”

  His thumb rubbed deep circles into my hand. “You won’t sleep tonight, I expect. I doubt any of us will. I thought perhaps your mind might rest if you watched over them until dawn.”

  “I’d like that.” I looked him in the eyes for the first time since arriving. “Very much.”

  He sat with his back against the crevice, his legs outstretched. He patted the dust beside him. “Rock is as soft a bed as we’ll have until reaching the forest. At least then we’ll have pine straw.”

  “I don’t mind.” It was a minor physical ache compared to the spiritual pain engulfing me.

  From my quick survey of the survivors, I had not spotted my uncle Ghubari. Surely he must be there. Fate would not be so cruel as to steal from me the one relative I had left, or so I prayed.

  “What will you do?” He stared ahead, not at me, which made answering easier.

  “I will go to Cathis. We will present Lailah to Vaughn. Between the Deinopidae and myself, I think we can paint a clear picture of the plague. How the Necrita are using it—or causing it.” It chilled me to add, “Due to my…circumstances…I must have a paladin or maven to acknowledge me as the Segestriidae maven in order to be recognized by the other clans. Two would be better.”

  “You’re thinking of asking Mana?”

  “I am.” Though it was a large favor to ask, I had few options.

  He was quiet a moment. “It would be a stronger endorsement if you asked Vaughn instead.”

  “Mana told me she is not well-loved among your people. In time, I believe that will change. People fear the unknown, and even among her birth clan the spirit walkers are revered more than understood.” My resolve hardened. “If she is to be respected, then Vaughn must allow her to act. I will go to her, plead my case and ask for her endorsement. If he wishes to add his, then I won’t deny it would be welcome, but her word and mine will bolster one another. For her clan, she will gain an ally even her husband could not win. For my clan, they get someone perhaps not the best suited to the job, but someone with their best interests at heart, who will fight to k
eep them safe.”

  Murdoch rested his head against the wall. “I see why Isolde took such an interest in you.”

  “I get the feeling she takes an interest in anyone who can further her agendas.”

  A fond smile played about his lips. “I won’t deny the truth of that.”

  “Since you trust Isolde and she trusts Bram and I trust you, I suppose it would be prudent to trust his council as well.” I picked grit from my palms. “Bram is overly fond of giving advice.”

  “He’s fond of hearing himself talk.” Murdoch cracked his eyes open. “What did he say?”

  I picked dirt from under my nails. “He explained why the cure must be kept secret for now.”

  He leaned forward, bracing his forearms on his knees. “Does that mean I’m forgiven?”

  “You could have told me.” Understanding why didn’t erase the hurt that he hadn’t.

  His answer was far too honest. “You had too many secrets.”

  “Yours was larger than mine.”

  His eyebrows climbed. “Do you want to bring size into this?”

  “No.” I blushed furiously. “I suppose not.”

  “I am sorry I withheld hope that might have sustained you.” He drummed his fingers against his kneecaps. “I have concerns not only for Mana’s safety, but the safety of her birth clan, who I fear may be in grave danger once word of a cure is leaked. They are farmers. They have no skill at arms and no will for battle. Mana negotiated protection for them with Isolde. It was part of her marriage agreement.” He shook his head. “I think she paid too high a price for his hand myself.”

  “Wait—Mana negotiated with Isolde to marry Vaughn?” My jaw dropped.

  “She did. I was there. Isolde wouldn’t let them out of their cell in the grotto until—”

  My voice climbed. “They were kept in a cell until they agreed to marry?”

  He cringed. “I could have framed that better.”

  “You’re fine.” I patted his knee. “I think it’s best if I don’t know.”

  “I’m going to lie down a while,” Murdoch said, shifting closer, “give my tailbone a rest.”