A Time of Dying (Araneae Nation) (25 page)

“It was once. It will be again.” His gaze swept over Murdoch. “Despite your indiscretions.”

Pride stung and heart sore, I readied an acid retort but winced as the buzz at my ear grew to a throbbing sting. I held the crystal still for respite, hating that it made me deaf to the harbinger’s approach but aware Hishima was our immediate concern. Still, my skin crawled as I ignored her.

Agony punched through my ear, the pain too stark to shove aside.

My frantic thoughts turned the darkened tunnel at Hishima’s back into a nest of risers led by a frothing harbinger. The unknown was too much. The hairs on my nape lifted. “Where is she?”

“Who do you—? Lailah?” His eyes narrowed. “She is where she always is.”

“I hate to be the bearer of bad news,” Bram started, “but the old girl is long gone.”

“Her scent’s faded.” Murdoch let that sink in. “How long were you hunting Kaidi?”

Weeks, long enough for Lailah to escape, long enough for her to reunite with her kin.

Hishima lifted his hand, and two males lumbered forward. “Check the tunnel for Lailah.”

How sad it was that she had lost the distinction of being his mother. She was merely his key to gaining an imagined alliance with an unearthly force bent on the corruption of our very selves.

But he had given me something of value, a name for my nameless foes—the Necrita.

While his guards stalked toward his mother’s former chamber, axes raised—a feat made easy by the fact I had hacked the boards from the entrance—the three of us shifted closer. If Hishima’s pacing was any indication, we had been wrong assuming he had moved his mother for her safety.

An eternity passed while my ear thrummed and Hishima mashed his lips into a bloodless line.

When his guards emerged, they exchanged a wary glance. The bulkier one cleared his throat. “Lady Lailah is not in her chamber,” he said to the rocks at Hishima’s feet. “Nor is Edgar.”

Edgar? The Araneaean bones we found… Had they belonged to a guard left to care for her?

“Where is she?” he asked me softly. “What have you done with my—with Lailah?”

“See these?” I held out my hands. “They’re empty.”

“We came here to find her,” Murdoch said. “We had the same luck as you.”

“If something happened to her…” Hard as his throat worked, I doubted grief was the cause.

“She was gone when we arrived.” Murdoch’s breath fanned my neck. When had he come so close? Near as he stood, I heard each of his sharp inhales, felt each of his exhales warm my nape.

“That’s not possible.” He pointed a finger at me, and it trembled. “She warned me that night to kill you where you stood, but I said no. I thought we had scared you. That you would keep out of the caverns, out of our work, that you would be frightened into compliance. But I was wrong.”

I wiggled my outspread fingers. “You honestly believed I’d stay after what she did to me?”

“I thought perhaps…” He blanched at my missing ring finger. No. At something behind me.

Shivers swept over my skin. The impulse to turn tightened my neck. Murdoch put his hands on my shoulders, holding me still as he bent down, his lips a breath from my ear. “Don’t move.”

Bram pressed against my side, his shoulder half in front of me. “I hear it,” was all he said.

“Lailah.” Hishima took a cautious half-step forward. “I was concerned for you.”

“Lies,” she hissed.

The pitch of her voice made my eardrums ache. I covered my ears but still felt her speak.

“We agreed you would wait for my return in your chamber.” He advanced another step.

“He’s insane,” Bram muttered.

“No,” Murdoch whispered. “Look.”

The tunnel’s gloom parted to reveal six guards armed with nets and what looked like spears, but the tips were three times the size of normal spearheads. These bore hooks with serrated jaws. The leader was of average height, of average build, but his broad nose and wedge cheeks pegged him as Deinopidae. His slow assessment of me showcased gray eyes, the hallmark of his people.

Standing at an angle as he was, Bram saw what Murdoch and I did not.

“Hishima is luring her down. She’s perched on a ledge just over our heads.” His voice held a sort of misplaced awe. “Her wings, there are two—four, flitting so fast at times I can’t see them.”

“Come down.” Hishima presented his arm as he would for a falco trained to perch on his wrist.

“Food.” She sounded closer. “Now.”

“Get down first.” His gaze slid over Murdoch. “I’m sure we can find you something to eat.”

“You wouldn’t dare.” My voice was a bare whisper.

“I dare very much these days. You will be surprised how desperate times have changed me.”

“I doubt that very much.” I winced when Murdoch’s fingers dug painfully into my shoulder.

“Hush,” he breathed into my ear.

“Will you do as he says? You never listen to me.” Hishima returned his attention to Lailah. “If you had only listened to me, if you had stayed in your room, none of us would be here now.”

The truth of his words cut deep, shoring my resolve that I would protect Murdoch and Bram. I had led them here, and I would lead them out. “Yet here we are. What’s done can’t be undone.”

“I confess I am a tad more optimistic than you.” His eyes narrowed. “Lailah, no. Not her.”

Claws scrabbled on rock over our heads. Pebbles bounced off my shoulder. As if compelled to do the very last thing I wanted, I rolled my eyes upward, not daring to blink even when Lailah stirred grit with her frantic wings. Fearful she might consider direct eye contact a challenge, I let my gaze slide over her body, cataloging differences I had not noticed at our first meeting. On her feet, where her toenails should be, were pearlescent, hooked claws. Her skin was pale as a corpse, but I no longer believed the harbingers were dead. At least not entirely. Her hair was a filthy knot on top of her head. Her wings, and I counted four, were exact matches for the one Isolde found.

“I kept my word.” Hishima softened his tone. “I returned. Come to me, and we will talk.”

“Kept your word? Not hardly.” My voice wavered. “You came here after me. Not for her.”

“What are you doing?” Murdoch’s hand crept up my neck as though he meant to gag me.

“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.