Araneae Nation: The Complete Collection

by Hailey Edwards

  “The full-fledged ones can’t be.” Lailah was proof of that.

  “I know that now, at your and her expense.”

  “I did wonder how you were so well-prepared for Lailah.”

  No doubt he had repurposed a room to accommodate the cage, but it would have taken a crew of workers weeks to transform the room into a harbinger-proof bastille, even with gold easing the way.

  “Lourdes decided to acquire Lailah because of the bastille and our experience with Marne. Our early success made her bold enough to accept Vaughn’s offer to house Lailah. Gods we were fools.”

  “Let me get this straight. You had been treating Marne, so you know more about harbingers than I do.” Now our easy reception in Erania made more sense. “But you hadn’t seen a riser until we arrived with them in tow.”

  “Marne was rescued before completing her transformation. I’m not sure she can call risers.”

  “You said she was rescued.” No doubt by Edan. “Where did she come from?”

  “We don’t know and Edan won’t say. She was captured and infected while in the southlands, and he sought refuge in the north.” Henri spread his hands. “Their discovery wasn’t proof the plague was spreading north, but we contained the situation to prevent the possibility. Their privacy was the cost of their cooperation. We could have forced them to participate in testing given the circumstances…”

  “I’m glad it didn’t come to that.”

  “As am I. It made observing Marne’s awakening much more authentic. I hypothesized she came back to herself as a result of having her sigil removed, and Edan’s presence aided in her recovery as well.”

  “Marne said we could live without sigils. Is that what saved me? When Lailah ripped mine out?”

  “Not exactly.” He rubbed his nape. “My theory is that in order to spawn, a harbinger must have its own sigil. While my hypotheses abound, I have no proof, yet, of how they are manifested. It could be that the creation of a sigil is at the heart of how the plague was spread through livestock. You see, the sigil is, as best as I can tell, a parasite. They appear to be alive, at least while they are attached to a host, but their plating bears a stark resemblance to finely hammered copper. At the moment I’m not certain those characteristics are mutually exclusive. All I have to examine are the remains of yours.”

  “What about Marne? She must have had one.”

  “She did, but Edan removed it, thoroughly.”

  “The scar on her throat.” How Edan must hate being the one who ruined her.

  “Hers attached in almost the same spot as yours, but both have since been fully removed.”

  I heaved a sigh of relief knowing no creepy-crawly part of Lailah’s sigil resided in me.

  Henri appeared much less relieved. I exhaled. “I sense a but coming.”

  “Sigils are venomous. Lailah told you she had been lacing my mother’s pitcher with venom, but it wasn’t hers. It was her sigil’s. She was preparing your body to ensure it didn’t reject the implant.”

  “I don’t understand why she insisted on using that particular pitcher. Was it a game for her?”

  “In part, I’m sure it was. I’ve thought about it, and I think she chose it because its base is metal. I use unglazed clay pitchers and glasses for patients because they’re inexpensive to replace and I can destroy them to prevent contamination. The clay would have absorbed the venom. She must have felt it was a better bet to use the mosaic pitcher and hope it worked.”

  “How was Fynn involved?” He was on bed rest at least the first time Henri spotted the pitcher.

  “He doesn’t remember much of what happened, but as tight a hold as Lailah had on his mind, I have to believe she either slipped him venom on the journey or she orchestrated her escape as a distraction to give him a dose large enough to cement a mental tie. Given the fact we all had contact with her, and with him, she might have been using her song to implant suggestions in us all long before we realized it.”

  “Now there’s a frightening thought.” When he didn’t agree but lowered his gaze to meet mine, I knew there was more. “That isn’t a happy look. There’s something else. What haven’t you told me?”

  “When a harbinger affixes its sigil to a host, it’s essentially poisoning them.” He leaned forward. “If the sigil is maintained, the host is transformed. If a sigil is forcibly removed, I believe that action triggers a reflex. The sigil then pumps its host full of poison to ensure that the fledgling dies with it.”

  “Yet Marne—and I—survived.” I speculated, “You must have created a sigil antivenin.”

  “In so many words, yes.” He shifted to face me. “There is no cure. Not yet. What I have created is a low-dose antivenin that must be injected daily in order to counteract the effect of the sigil venom without causing necrosis of the organs.” His gaze held mine, and it was anguished. “You will be on injections every day for the rest of your life unless I can develop a true cure. Marne will be as well.”

  A lump formed in my throat. I didn’t know what to say to that.

  “I should…” He stood with a grimace and crossed the room.

  A twist of his wrist and the door exploded inward from the force of Tau’s weight leaning against it. He fell to the ground with a grunt. The others trampled him, shoving Henri aside as they clambered to reach me. They hit the mattress in a jumble of arms as they struggled to embrace me first. When they were all done, I was crushed beneath a wall of muscle and feeling ridiculously grateful to be alive.

  Scraping the oafs off me took time. Once I could see past the blockade of brotherly love, the first thing I noticed was my bedroom door had been left propped open, and the hall stood empty.

  Henri was gone.

  I woke a second time, hours later, and found Ghedi’s chair empty. Quiet permeated the room.

  Undecided if I enjoyed the silence, I broke it. “Hello?”

  The knob rattled, and the door opened a crack. Fynn stuck his head inside the room.

  His brows climbed.

  “I thought I was alone.”

  Never, he mouthed.

  “Are we the only two here?”

  He nodded.

  I swept out my arm, indicating Ghedi’s chair. “Would you like to come inside?”

  Fynn shrugged, shouldering open the door and entering the room. He slouched in the chair.

  “Did you draw the short end of the stick?”

  Through Ghedi, I had learned the restrictions had been lifted on my brothers and me, and Maven Lourdes had given us leave to wander the nest at our leisure. They had spent the past week exploring the Araneidae clan home and indulging in excess until they came staggering back here to their beds.

  His grin was sly. He shrugged again.

  “I’ll take that as a yes.”

  He stretched his legs out in front of him and got comfortable.

  “Ghedi seems fascinated with Araneidae society.”

  Fynn rolled his eyes. Females.

  I chuckled. “Where there are skirts, there are those who would chase them. I hope whichever females they set their sights on give them a good run for it. Those two could use some exercise.”

  Wiping his mouth, Fynn covered the slight flash of his teeth that was more his usual smile.

  “Before he left earlier, Ghedi told me that Kaleb and Tau were more interested in joining the hunts aboveground for stray risers than tasting the delicacies made available to them in the nest.”

  Fynn made a twirling motion beside his head.

  I sighed. “They aren’t crazy for wanting to clean up a problem we helped bring here.”

  He snorted and dusted his hands. The topic was closed for discussion.

  “What about you? What have you been…?” I tensed when he stood. “What is it?”

  Delicate knocks rang through the room. Fynn glanced over his shoulder. He pointed a stern finger at me and mouthed, Be ready.

  “I’m as ready as I’ll ever be,” I muttered. The closest weapon I had was the water pi
tcher, if I wanted to break another to use its shards. I held off on that. I didn’t want to develop a reputation.

  Another glance at me and Fynn made a quick gesture.

  I cleared my throat. “Who’s there?”

  “Maven Lourdes,” a warm voice replied. “May I come in?”

  “Of course.” I adjusted my covers and ran a hand through my hair.

  Fynn slowly opened the door, revealing a slight female with honey-blonde hair and Henri’s blue eyes. Her smile matched the warmth of her voice, but her stride was purposeful. Her posture said she was used to commanding the attention of all those around her and that she expected mine as well.

  When she noticed the chair, she asked, “Do you mind?”

  “No.” I forced a smile. “Please, help yourself.”

  She grasped the back of the chair with one hand and its seat with the other.

  “Put that down,” a harsh voice barked from the hall.

  Fynn spun behind the maven and drew a sword, aiming it into the darkness. Sparks flew. Metal clanged. Faster than my sluggish mind could follow, a male stalked Fynn into the room. He sent Fynn’s blade skittering to the floor, then angled his sword tip at the hollow under Fynn’s throat.

  “Don’t step between me and my wife and you’ll live longer,” the male growled.

  “You should be thrilled he was protecting me. At least he had the good sense to know a real threat when he saw one.” She settled her hands on her hips. “You were snarling at a poor chair.”

  “The physician ordered you to be careful.” He glared at the chair. “That is not careful.”

  “No,” she countered. “You ordered me to be careful. He said we were doing just fine.”

  The male’s hard eyes softened. Black eyes. Mimetidae eyes.

  “You must be Paladin Rhys,” I said, using the opportunity to distract him from my brother.

  “I am.” He grunted in Fynn’s direction. “This is one of your brothers. Fynn, isn’t it?”

  “Yes.” It worried me that the paladin recognized him. “Would you mind releasing him?”

  Shoving Fynn into the far corner of the room, Rhys sheathed his sword and lifted the chair.

  “Where do you want it?” he demanded.

  Lourdes patted his arm. “By the bed, please. I don’t want her to have to shout to talk to me.”

  Rhys angled the chair so he had room to stand behind it and keep his back to the wall.

  “Forgive me,” she said. “I tried sneaking off without him, but he’s been my shadow lately.”

  “These are dangerous times,” I said to counter his warning scowl. “And you are the maven.”

  Twisting in her seat, she elbowed Rhys’s hip. “Stop whatever you’re doing back there.”

  He grunted and turned to his left so he glared at Fynn instead.

  “We don’t have much time.” Her smile was slight. “I’m afraid my husband refuses to let me walk more than two tunnels’ lengths each day, and I surpassed that coming to see you.” She shifted in her seat. “Let’s not waste each other’s time.” She tapped her nails on her knee. “May I be blunt?”

  Cautiously, I admitted, “I would prefer it.”

  “I am sorry for what you have endured and grateful for the sacrifices you made to protect my clan. I thought having a true harbinger specimen might help Henri hone the cure for the plague…and unlock the secret of the sigils. Bear him no ill will. All he kept from you was done so at my request.”

  “I understand.”

  “I owe you more than simple thanks.” Her hand hovered at her navel before she clenched her fist and dropped her arm, flashing an apologetic smile. “Henri tells me that you and your brothers are exiled from Halcidia. He has also vouched for each of your characters personally. I came to offer your family a chance to start fresh. If you would consider joining my guard, I would be honored to have you. Erania would be honored to call you her own.”

  My jaw must have dropped because she leaned over to tap my mouth shut.

  “I—I would have to speak with my brothers.”

  “Of course.” She patted my cheek. “Take a few days to consider my offer.” She winced, and in a heartbeat, Rhys had taken her arm and helped her to her feet. “There is one more thing. I trust we can keep this between us?” She waited for my nod before she said, “You are very special to Henri. When he thought he had lost you…” She exhaled. “As his sister, if it’s not too forward of me, I would like some assurance that you return his affection.”

  “You don’t mind that I’m…?” I forced out the rest. “I’m only a mercenary.”

  Her response was to snuggle under her husband’s arm. “I rather enjoy being married to my mercenary.” She winked at him. “I see no reason why Henri won’t be just as happy with his.”

  The rush as her blessing registered left me dizzy.

  “Am I to assume by your relief you’re as smitten with Henri as he is with you?” she asked.

  “Yes.” My cheeks tingled. “Smitten is one word for it.”

  Behind her, Rhys coughed, or maybe it was a laugh. It was hard to tell without looking at him.

  “Oh, Zuri.” She smoothed a hand over her slightly rounded stomach. “Discretion, if you please.”

  “I won’t breathe a word,” I vowed. “I swear it.”

  Rhys jerked his chin toward Fynn. “What about him? Can we trust him to hold his tongue?”

  “He won’t break his vow of silence.” Despite all that had occurred, none of my brothers had.

  “His hands work just fine,” Rhys countered. He narrowed his eyes at Fynn. “Well?”

  Fingers flying, Fynn signed his answer. His gaze begged me for help while Rhys bared fangs.

  “He won’t tell a soul. If he tries, I’ll cut out his tongue and chop off his fingers for you.”

  Fynn made a universal gesture that made me scowl.

  “I’m all that stands, um, sits between you and Rhys the Cold,” I snapped. “Be grateful.”

  “Experience with my own brother has taught me siblings are merciless.” Rhys nodded. “I accept your offer. Be aware, I will hold you to it. If Fynn makes a sound, it will be his last.” Rhys kicked Fynn’s sword into the corner. “If he decides he wants to learn to wield it properly, send him to me.”

  Fynn scowled.

  I cleared my throat. “I’ll do that.”

  “Then we’re settled,” Lourdes said brightly, tugging on Rhys’s arm. “Let’s leave Zuri to rest.”

  Still glaring at Fynn, Rhys led his wife from the room. Once the hall was clear, Fynn slammed the door closed and threw the bolt, locking us inside. He glowered at me while propping on the knob.

  “What?” I played innocent. “It’s not my fault you pulled a sword on the Araneidae paladin.”

  He made a half-circle gesture over his stomach and then threw up his hands.

  “You couldn’t have known she was pregnant.” She barely showed. “All in all, I think that could have gone a lot worse. I bet you’re the only male alive who can say you stepped between him and his wife and lived to tell the tale. You might want to leave out the cowering bits and gloss over the part where he knocked the sword from your hand. If you’re nice, I might not tattle to the others.”

  He pointed to my head and then to my pillow.

  “Stop bossing me around.” I pulled the covers up to my ears. “You’re worse than Ghedi.”

  The truth was, I craved a moment of solitude to consider Lourdes’s offer. I doubt she’d press for an answer, but my brothers and I had been guests in this nest for weeks. They would be antsy for our next assignment. That would change once they realized how dependent I had just become on Henri.

  No matter how kind the gesture, I wouldn’t remain in Erania out of pity.

  If I stayed, I wanted it to be because Lourdes was right, that maybe I had a chance of building a life here. This grand citadel was not my humble Halcidia. These people were artisans, not fisherman.

  All the same, they were not me
rcenaries, even if they kept company with them.

  Henri had made me realize I no longer wanted to be one either.

  The mattress dipped, and I rolled groggily onto my side. When I hit a warm wall that shouldn’t have been there, I cracked an eye open and found Henri sitting on the edge of the bed, glass in hand.

  I grumbled, “You didn’t wake me for that, did you?”

  “No.” He held the glass out to me. “I woke you for breakfast.”

  “Morning already?” Pushing to my elbows, I groaned at his hand. “There must be a better way.”

  He shook the cup until I took it. “There are several alternatives, but none are as palatable.”

  I sniffed the contents.

  “Drink it.”

  “Fine.” I did, but I wasn’t happy about it. “Your sister visited me.”

  “Did she?”

  “She did.” I punched his shoulder. “She told me what you did.” I smiled. “Thank you.”

  “I would say I approached her for altruistic reasons,” he said, “but that would be a lie.”

  “And here I thought we worked so well together.” I swirled the contents of my cup.

  He pegged me with a questioning look. “You enjoyed working with me?”

  “Yes.” I mulled over the past several weeks. “What you do matters. You save lives, Henri.”

  “You saved several hundred lives.” He took my cup and set it aside. “Your work—you matter.”

  I waved his seriousness aside. “Now you’re just trying to flatter me.”

  “Is it working?” He put his hands on my shoulders and guided me back until my head hit the pile of pillows. Leaning over me, he pinned my wrists to the mattress on either side of my head.

  “A little.” My pulse leapt when his body covered mine. “I like your laboratory.”

  “Wait.” He withdrew a fraction. “I thought I was the one doing the flattering?”

  “It just seems to me that a male in your position—brother to the maven, harbinger wrangler and brilliant herbologist—could use a security detail of his own.” I paused. “One guard would suffice.”