Araneae Nation: The Complete Collection

by Hailey Edwards

  “Murdoch says you looted the bodies. Is that why you kept to the fields? Easy pickings?”

  Shame made my gaze slide to her chin. I could not meet her eyes. “Yes.”

  “Is that what you do? Follow the plague and make your living stealing coin from the dead?”

  Again I answered, “Yes.”

  After seeming to decide something, she said, “Tell me about the spade.”

  “It’s a tool.” I shrugged. “I use it to dig up graves and take what treasures I can from them.”

  “It’s also a weapon.” She lifted my earring. “How would you feel if I took your treasure?”

  Her thighs pinned my arms to my sides, but my nails dug into the dirt. “Don’t touch that.”

  “Who’s to say I can’t? You? A thief who has taken much from me and mine telling me that I can’t have reparations from her?” Isolde threw back her head and brayed to the sky. “You’ve got balls. More than some males I’ve met. Balls won’t save you. Information, well, that just might.”

  “I’ve answered your questions.” I even told the truth, mostly. More than I had for Murdoch.

  “I need more from you than frippery if helping you is to be made worth my while.”

  Pushed to my limits, I snapped, “What I know, no one in their right mind believes.”

  “Ah. Then we understand one another.” She stood then, propping the spade on her shoulder.

  I gawked at her. “We do?”

  I began to see why her son had replaced her.

  Isolde was stark raving mad.

  “Give me your arm.” She clasped my forearm and pulled me onto my feet. “Come with me.”

  With no other choice, I followed her through an archway similar to the one where I had left Bram waiting. “Where are we going?” Speaking of my guard… “Should I tell Bram I’m leaving?”

  “If he hasn’t noticed you’re gone by now, he’s hardly fit to be your guard.”

  “Good point.” I doubted the sluggard had moved an inch from where we left him.

  “Murdoch said you’re friends with Mana?” Isolde shoved opened a door and peered inside.

  “I am, or I was.” I hastened when she waved me forward. “Her greatfather had business with my uncle. We spent several days together each time Old Father came to visit my uncle Ghubari.”

  “Did you ever visit her in Beltania?” Isolde waited until I passed, then rammed her shoulder into the door, jiggling a bolt in place behind us. She leaned against it, listening. Content we had not been followed, she crossed the room and dragged a heavy wooden easel from the corner.

  But that wasn’t what caught my eye. Spread across a weathered work table were metal items I recognized as being curative implements. Their purpose, I could not guess. I saw a syringe and a tray filled with several vials of reddish liquid. Blood perhaps? Several amber bottles sat in neat rows. Their labels faced the wall as if by design. There were scalpels and other items I could not name. Rather than ask after Isolde’s health again, I catalogued her odd collection to ponder later.

  “No,” I answered, realizing for the first time how one-sided our friendship had been.

  “Then there’s little point in asking if she ever showed you anything like this.” She ripped a thin sheet from her makeshift display, and what she exposed turned my knees to pudding.

  I flung out my hand, bracing against the wall. “Has Mana seen this?”

  “Not this one.” Isolde watched my every shaking breath. “Do you know what it is?”

  Shaped like a tear. Translucent and ethereal but for the delicate black veins running throughout.

  “A wing,” I whispered. “Where did you find it?”

  She paused to consider. “Murdoch found it in the garden.”

  “Murdoch?” He hadn’t breathed a word of it to me. “Did he find anything else?”

  “What?” She jabbed my ribs with her elbow. “One’s not enough? It’s a bloody wing.”

  “One is more than enough,” I assured her.

  “Do you think this one’s a match for that first wing they found in Beltania?” Isolde frowned as she appeared to consider that might be the case. “I suppose I’ll have to show this to Mana after all. If she can remember if hers was a left or right, we’ll have more evidence for the Araneidae.”

  “What stake do they have in this?” Except that Isolde was the Araneidae paladin’s mother.

  “Lourdes has funded an investigation into the plague. There are those who question how the plague breaks necks. Those who question why only females are infected and where the survivors go.” She watched me carefully. “They can’t have all died. There weren’t enough bodies found.”

  I studied her just as warily. “Why show me this?”

  “You lie well enough, but this has shaken you.” She traced the edge of that hateful wing, and I wanted to slap her hand away from it. “Your reaction is telling. You know what this is. What it means. Why else would you fear it so? You don’t strike me as the type who fears the unknown.”

  I tore my gaze from her admiring caress. “Fear is not rational. I need no reason to be afraid.”

  But I was. I remembered well the first time I saw such a wing and who it was attached to.

  That Isolde spoke of it so casually, that she showed no fear toward it, appalled me and gave me hope that perhaps I was less alone than I realized. If the Araneidae wanted answers, I had no doubt they would get them. For who did not owe them a favor or did not benefit from their coin?

  Fabric rustled as Isolde covered her eerie trophy. “Have you seen its like before?”

  “I…” I debated lying, but she was right. I was too shaken to stray far from the truth. “Yes.”

  “Gods damn it all. I knew it.” She snapped her fingers. “Where?”

  “In Titania,” I said numbly.

  She pinned me against the wall with her palm. “Did you get a look at what it came from?”

  I couldn’t answer. I didn’t dare. It took all my strength not to retch on her floor.

  “You know. It’s written all over your face.” She snarled, “Tell me what we’re facing.”

  “I don’t know.” I struggled until I could stagger free of her. “I don’t know what they are.”

  “If you’ve truly seen one, then you can bloody well describe it to me. Names are of no use if we don’t know what to look for or what the enemy can do. Tell me. Now. What have you seen?” She slapped me. Hard.

  My fingers curled, nails biting into the meat of my palms. I anchored my arms to my sides. I tasted metal and bile and my own cowardice. That last flavor saved Isolde from retaliation.

  At once I was flung back to that night, to Maier’s desperate bid for freedom.

  Rain battered my cheeks, mingled with my tears as I knelt between gravestones…

  The time to share all I knew had come.

  “Tell me,” she demanded.

  “The plague isn’t what you think.” My voice quavered. “It’s—”

  Heavy pounding rattled the door, and Isolde shut her eyes and swore until my ears burned.

  “Isolde?” Murdoch bellowed. “Open this door.”

  “I’ll open the door when I’m damn well ready to,” she yelled at him.

  “Is Kaidi with you?” he demanded. “Isolde?”

  “If she is, it’s her guard’s fault for letting her out of his sight.”

  Realization crept in and soured my already tender stomach. “You lost Bram on purpose?”

  “If I wanted him here, I’d have invited him.” She raised her voice. “Same goes for you.”

  My head began pounding to the rhythm of Murdoch’s fists. I was about to scream at them to stop their infernal racket when the door ceased rattling and Isolde’s last insult died in her throat.

  “Mother.” Vaughn’s cool voice drifted through the silence. “A word?”

  Rolling her eyes, she raked a hand through her unruly hair. “You and I are not finished, girl. Don’t breathe of word of this to anyone. W
e’ll finish this talk later, in private, understand?” She stormed off to press an ear to the door. “I’ll have your word first that you won’t enter this room.”

  Vaughn’s muffled sigh carried. “You have my word.”

  Wood groaned as she worked the bolt free and flung the door open. “Go on, girl. Get.”

  I hurried past her, avoiding Vaughn’s accusing stare when he put an arm around his mother.

  Murdoch caught me past the threshold. “The second I turn my back on you, chaos erupts.”

  I opened my mouth to protest.

  “Not one word.” He clasped me by the back of the neck and shoved me ahead of him.

  “That hurts.” I sagged, too tired to fight him.

  “Hurt would be if I took off my belt and lashed your arse like you deserve.” Yet his grip did loosen. “Never have I met a female so determined to drive all those around her to do violence.”

  Flustered, I shouted at him, “I did nothing wrong.”

  “You’ve sung that same tune since your arrival.” He glared. “I believed you more then.”

  I returned his glare twofold. “I liked you more then.”

  His answer was to lock us both inside his room. “That makes two of us.”

  Chapter 8

  Night fell somewhere between the start of Murdoch’s lecture on how I had led Isolde astray, an accusation I couldn’t believe he brandished straight-faced, and the point where I crawled into his bed and slept away my headache earned from the day’s ordeal. It was a good rest, dreamless.

  If only it had lasted longer.

  “Wake up.”

  I curled onto my side to escape the voice at my ear.

  “Kaidi.”

  The mattress dipped and I rolled with it, right against Murdoch’s knee. I knew it was his leg because his scent enveloped me. Even if I hadn’t cracked open my eyes and found myself facing his crotch, I might have been equally alarmed by the urge I had to run my hands up those thighs.

  “What are you staring at?” Husky as his voice was, I bet he could guess.

  I turned my face into my pillow to hide my blush. “The oaf who ruined my nap.”

  He lifted the curtain of hair from my cheek. “Did you hear anything I said?”

  “I heard the high points.” All had foisted blame to me.

  He caught my chin and turned me to face him. “I heard you assaulted a former maven.”

  “I did no such thing.” I fumed. “Ask her—ask Isolde and see what she says.”

  “I did.”

  “And?”

  He smothered a grin. “She said the day a wisp like you bests her, she’ll slit her throat.”

  “You’re baiting me.” I scowled. “That’s not nice.”

  “Nice doesn’t work for you.” His fingers brushed my lip. “Force, now that you understand.”

  “I am capable of rational thought.” I spoke against his touch. “I can be reasoned with.”

  “Not that I’ve noticed.” He traced my pulse and pressed down when it fluttered.

  “What are you doing?” I asked when his hand slid lower.

  “I don’t know.” His thumb smoothed over my collarbone. “I don’t know anything when I’m with you.”

  I sat up and propped on my elbow. “Is that such a bad thing?”

  “Yes.” His voice went hoarse. “You’re betrothed. You will be a maven. You are a prisoner.”

  “None of those things are by my consent.” I dared touch his knee. “I thought I was a guest?”

  Murdoch cupped my cheek. “You are the most frustrating female I have ever met.”

  “You are too kind.” I leaned into his hand. “Such sweet words must attract them in droves.”

  His laughter was deeper now than before. His smile bared the tips of his fangs, turning my mind to thoughts of venom, of biting, of all manner of bad ideas. “You overestimate my appeal.”

  As I looked into his eyes, my chest tightened. “No. I don’t think that I do.”

  Red highlighted the sharpness of his cheeks. “I should go.”

  I clasped his hand in mine. “Stay.”

  An uncertain nod was his consent. He lowered himself onto the bed beside me oh so slowly. When I remained where I was, he let it bear his weight and drew me flush to him. My head fit on his shoulder, and his arm hooked around my waist. The temptation to tilt my head back and invite his mouth to greet mine left me dizzy with anticipation no male, even Hishima, had stirred in me.

  “All we can have is this.” He stroked my side, and I nestled tighter against him.

  “We could have this.” My hand returned to its exploration of his thigh. “And more.”

  “You are a temptress,” he breathed into my hair. “As much as I want to believe you…”

  My fingers bit into my palm. “You can’t.”

  “I dare not.” His lips brushed my ear. “You wield too much power over me as it is.”

  At his touch, a tingle spun along the golden wire fastening my earring in place. Then I heard it, a low buzz amplified by the swinging crystal. I pushed from his arms and leapt to my feet, ran to the window and ripped aside the tapestry, wincing as the fabric tore but unable to stop myself.

  I leaned out the window, holding strong when Murdoch grasped my shirt. I tilted my head to one side so my earring hung free. The hum was stronger here, and my earlobe began vibrating.

  “Gods’ web, what’s wrong with you?” Murdoch grabbed me around the waist.

  “Do you hear it?” I turned into his embrace, took his face between my palms and brought his face down to mine. Pressing our cheeks together trapped the low vibrations between us. “Listen.”

  “It’s humming.” He jerked back. “I can feel it.”

  “It’s amplifying a specific sound.”

  His gaze strayed toward the window. “What kind of sound?”

  I bit my lip. “It would be better if I showed you.”

  “All right.” He stepped back and spread his arms. “Show me.”

  “I will.” I edged past him before he called me back to him. “We’ll have to hurry.”

  Quietly as I could, I crept from the room. I padded softly down the hall so as not to wake the others. Ahead of us, my final obstacle loomed, the exit from the Tower Square that would lead us into Cathis’s streets. I grasped the knob, pausing when Murdoch placed his hand on top of mine.

  “Please,” I begged. “Trust me just this once. Believe that I won’t lead you astray.”

  When I saw his decision and that it was not to extend me that trust, I withered at its loss.

  I decided then if I could not demand his trust, then I could command his attention. He would go with me, and he would witness what I meant him to the first time. He would see the harbinger.

  “Where in the city did you need to go?” He offered, “I could speak with the paladin and—”

  “No.” Already I sensed the departure of those who could prove my case. “I didn’t want to do this.” I reached into my pants pocket and palmed Bram’s knife. “You’re leaving me no choice.”

  Either I dragged him onto that field among the risers or accepted defeat. I hated how calmly the solution stared me in the face while my gut roiled. If I did this, I would lose Murdoch’s good opinion.

  Who was I fooling? It was already as good as gone.

  “It’s late.” His hand came to rest on my shoulder. “Since the plague, the streets are not as safe as they once were. Things are improving, but they are not so tame that I would let you out there.”

  Closing my eyes, preparing myself to cut the final tie between us, I let my shoulders slump.

  “I’m sorry, Murdoch. I am.” I exhaled. “Truly.”

  He came around in front of me and pulled me against his chest. “It’s all right.” That was when he felt the knife.

  “No. I don’t think it can be. Not between us. Not after this.”

  “Kaidi, you can’t keep on this way.” He tried soothing me. “Lower your knife.”

&nb
sp; The darkness of the halls concealed how poor a weapon I held against him. “Not this time.”

  In a blink of my eye, all tender emotion vanished from his face. “What will you do?”

  “I won’t hurt you.” I had done that enough. “I need you to come with me to the field.”

  “You want an escort for your escape?” He scoffed. “No. I won’t make it so easy.”

  The song in my ear became softer the longer we stood here and chattered.

  I did what Isolde bade me not to do. I looked him in the eyes. “I saw the wing.”

  “Gods damn Isolde. She kept the thing?” He rubbed his face. “I should have known.”

  “You don’t understand—”

  This time he cut me short. “It’s a hoax. It has to be. Nothing alive has wings that large.”

  “You’re right.” I reached for the doorknob again. “Nothing alive does.”

  Behind us a door slammed but not before we heard a burst of feminine giggling.

  From the corner of my eye I watched Lleu exit what I assumed was a servant’s room based on its proximity to the kitchen. When he straightened his clothes, he happened to glance our way.

  “Murdoch?” He hurried to fasten his pants. “Late for you to be out. Is that…Kaidi?”

  Before Murdoch’s warning cleared his lips, I rammed my shoulder into his gut and slammed against the door, flinging it open wide in my haste to escape. Darkness lapped at my feet. Several torches burned outside. Perhaps meant as a deterrent for the trouble Murdoch mentioned. I didn’t care. I was too grateful my path was lit and my way was clear. Calling upon my memories of the streets, I ran past familiar shops, including Stefan’s. Faster still I ran until the gate loomed ahead.

  From one step to the next, my feet sailed from beneath me. I hit the dusty road and spat dirt.

  “Steady now.” Lleu patted my thigh. “No need for anyone to get stabbed. Give us the knife.”

  Murdoch wrenched my arm, tearing the knife from my grip. “Explain yourself.”

  “Get me to that field and I won’t have to waste words.” I let my cheek rest on the ground.

  “Why? Have we not experienced all its glory?” Lleu ridiculed me. “Determined little thing.”

  Murdoch nudged me with his boot. “Let’s go.”