Araneae Nation: The Complete Collection

by Hailey Edwards

  “Now, dear one, let us not quarrel over such petty matters.” She opened her arms, and I recoiled. “You are a lovely creature, Marne. You make males weep as they run for your arms to their deaths.”

  Hadn’t Asher said as much? That my touch was poison and my love ruin?

  I wet my lips. “I won’t kill again.”

  Her gaze latched on to my fingernails. “You already have.”

  I tightened my hands into fists. “You sent a harbinger for my brother.”

  “You have no brother,” she snarled. “You have a mother, and you have sisters. That is all.”

  “My mother is dead to me. My brother is all the family I have.”

  She nodded with acceptance. “Then you understand why he must die.”

  My shoulder blades began twitching, the skin there tingling as blood rushed into my wings. I gritted out from between my teeth, “If you lay a hand on him, I will kill you.”

  “Would you consider a trade?” She studied her own nails. “His life for yours?”

  My mouth opened in instant agreement.

  But if I went missing, Edan would track me down the same as before. He would find Idra, as he had before. And he would realize she owned me again, a thing which he could not bear, and then my brother would kill her or die trying. What scared me most was, if I went with her, if I became what it was she wanted me to be, then I might help her. Or gods forbid, in my rage, I might end him myself.

  “I can’t.” My voice was a hoarse whisper.

  “I know.” She sighed. “Your misguided loyalty is part of your charm.”

  Charm was an interesting name for it.

  I studied the foreign landscape sprawling around us. The longer we stood in this spot, the more I saw. Where there had been only the branching of phantom roads, storefronts loomed. Sounds carried I identified as laughter, but the pitch rang too sharp in my ears and I winced. Other noise carried too.

  I put my hands to either side of my head to block the racket. “What is this place?”

  She lifted her hand as if hailing some apparition in town. “This is the crossroads.”

  I touched the rough stone front of a building solidifying beside me. “Who lives here?”

  “We do, of course.”

  “This is where Necrita come from?” I startled. “Inside the veil?”

  Her eyes narrowed past my shoulder, and a hiss rattled her chest.

  Doubtful anything worse than Idra could stand behind me, I kept my attention on her.

  “They dare tread this sacred ground,” she growled. “I will not have it.”

  My confusion must have shown. “People cross through the veil all the time.”

  “They pass when I let them pass.” Her wings extended. “You are not fully Necrita and therefore not mine to call. To hold you here is to anchor this place in the mortal world. To allow you to linger is to let them walk streets no mortal’s feet have ever touched without invitation. It is not to be born.”

  My spirit was buoyant. “You have to let me go.”

  “Do I?” A cruel smile twisted her lips. “You underestimate the lengths I’m willing to go to keep you. Armies I can raise. Corpses are plentiful, and the Yellow Death spreads easily. Strategists, those are much harder to find. You have an agile mind and the heart of a warrior. You belong here with us. The time will soon arrive when we march across this land to reclaim it in the name of the old gods.”

  Her words chilled me to the bone.

  “Whose cause will you champion?” she cried. “Ours? Or theirs?”

  “I will not help you slaughter innocents.”

  “When your final tie to their world is cut, then we will see how noble you truly are.”

  “Marne?”

  Asher came into focus as he neared us. His sword was drawn, and his shirt was in tatters.

  I strained to make out his expression. “Where are the others?”

  He pointed the tip of his sword at Idra. “Ask her.”

  Dread flashed hot over my skin. Idra stood so smug and haughty my heart sank.

  “You killed them.”

  The person she hailed in the mist… Had I mistaken Idra’s gesture as a greeting when it had been an order? The guards would have given me that half hour to clear the veil before they set foot inside. They would have fended off a tide of risers before their fear allowed them to share passage with me.

  How long had she detained me? A half hour? An hour? It seemed to me we had talked for a few minutes, but time must move slower here. How else could I explain Asher’s dishevelment or the fact he had arrived moments after me? The severity of his injuries couldn’t have been inflicted so swiftly.

  “Contrary to what you believe, I do not make a habit of killing within the mist.” Her eye ticked. “We are not the most dangerous things prowling the crossroads. Consider that on your next journey.”

  I lifted my chin. “I have no intentions of ever seeing this place—or you—again.”

  “Bold words.” Her eyes twinkled. “You will live to regret them.”

  “Come with me.” Asher had crept up beside me and taken my arm. “We must leave.”

  “You’re different.” She sniffed at him. “There’s something of my daughter Lailah in you.”

  His fingers bit into my skin. “There is nothing of her in me.”

  Idra clicked her tongue. “Such insolent children she begat.”

  My arm was throbbing in his hold. I shrugged free of him. “Ignore her.”

  Idra threw back her head. “Ignore me? Me? He could no sooner resist his next breath.”

  Tingles swept over my skin. A low song sparked in my head, so soft I might have imagined it.

  Asher’s jaw flexed, and sweat beaded on his forehead. “I am my own person.”

  The melody rose, threatening to sweep me into oblivion. Only concern for Asher grounded me.

  “Stop this.” I stepped between them. “Let him go.”

  I had seen the other fledglings practice their charms on unwitting victims. I wish I had honed my skills rather than deny them. I lacked the strength and mastery Idra had. I could not shatter her spell.

  He shook his head and stumbled forward, sword arm drooping. “Do you hear that?”

  I strained my ears to pick up the notes as Idra began humming them under her breath. Her song was a subtle lure I had small chance of trumping. Her method, her pitch, was perfection. I dug in my heels and wound my arms tighter around him. For a few awkward steps, he dragged me behind him.

  I chanted, “Please don’t go, please don’t go, please don’t go.”

  Asher’s entire body jerked. He swung his head toward me and froze with his attention riveted on my lips.

  Had I ensnared him by accident? No time to fret the details now. He could hate me later.

  Oh wait, he already did.

  “Interesting,” Idra murmured.

  Something interesting was happening, but I was unsure if we meant the same thing. The longer I held on to Asher, the more the cityscape faded. The town swirled and vanished, leaving Idra standing at a fork in a road I now had difficulty seeing. Even she had begun to lose substance. I could see rays of light shining through the fabric of her gown. Beyond her, the path was straight and narrow. It was all an illusion, all bent light and menace. Was any of it real? Parts of it must be because Idra said the Necrita fed here. Had their hunting grounds birthed the legends of the gods and the story of creation?

  All this time, had Araneaeans been paying homage—not to the two gods, but to the Necrita?

  “Marne.”

  The boom of Edan’s voice sliced through the fog of Idra’s enchantment.

  “Dear gods no,” I murmured.

  He had been safe on the other side. Now he was here, in Idra’s realm, within her reach.

  “Hello, Edan.” Her wings fluttered. “I have wanted to meet you for a very long time.”

  As his silhouette grew defined, his fury became apparent. Idra breathed it in with a sigh.

&
nbsp; Edan rode his ursus, and its wild eyes mirrored the terror in my heart. A shove from behind sent me stumbling into their path. I glanced back at Asher doubled over, panting through his heavy sweat.

  “Take her.” Asher’s words slurred. “Leave me.”

  My brother took him at his word, running at me, scooping me into his arms and onto his mount.

  I clung to his waist to keep from falling. “We can’t leave him.”

  “He made his choice.” Edan kicked the ursus harder. “I saw her, the harbinger.”

  “Idra,” I said.

  “She will not take you,” he snarled. “Not again.”

  “Oh, I don’t know.” Idra’s singsong voice washed over us. “I would dearly love a matched set.”

  Laughing, Idra swooped closer and swiped her claw so near his cheek, his skin should have split from the pressure. As if reading my thoughts, and perhaps she had been, her form solidified in a way that left me gaping. The scent of rotten meat washed over me. My gut churned, unsure if I was sick or if I was tempted. The stench hit Edan, and his upper body turned, putting him face-to-face with Idra.

  She clacked the razor ends of her nails together then grasped his ear and pierced it with a talon.

  He punched her in the face, and she dropped from the sky.

  After a flick of his gaze over me, he faced forward and worked our ursus into a lather.

  The temperature grew colder, until ahead of me I saw a wall of wavering white.

  It struck me then how Idra had been mist inside the veil. Now that we readied to pass through it, she was as solid as she had ever been. Sinister forces were at work here. I hesitated to call it magic, but what else could it be? The veil itself was celestial. Whosever’s hand had forged it—the two gods or not—they were not Araneaean.

  Snarling at our retreat, I turned as Idra dug her toes into the ground and leapt onto my back.

  Her iron grip around my throat strangled my warning to Edan, but as solid as Idra was now, the impact had jostled him. He twisted in the saddle with a fist raised, waiting for an opportunity, but Idra used me as her shield. As the static crackle of the curtain’s edge descended, Idra kicked off the ursus. She slammed me flat onto the ground, knocking the wind out of me and crunching my wings painfully.

  “You have what you want.” I pushed myself upright. “Let him go.”

  The vicious smile she cast over her shoulder chilled the marrow in my bones.

  Faster than my eyes could track, she hovered over Edan. One of her sickly yellow talons pierced the skin of the ursus, and it bellowed. It bucked and sent Edan sailing over its head. He didn’t get up. Idra lit beside him and stabbed him in the neck with the same tainted fingernail. When he still failed to rouse, she gathered him against her breast. His head lolled. Blood covered his face.

  “Are you happy?” She pushed up his eyelids. “He’s broken and of no use to either of us now.”

  “Give him to me. Please,” I begged her. “Grant me that much.”

  “No.” She cupped his cheek. “He’s still warm. No use letting good meat sour.”

  Shock cost me precious seconds before my stunned mind caught up to her meaning.

  Idra bolted into the mists where the crossroad’s faint outline shimmered into existence.

  I ran after them. Ripping the fabric covering my wings, I took flight.

  From one blink to the next, buildings vanished. “No.” I screamed for Edan until I tasted blood. I flew blindly toward the spot where I last saw him, circled the area, cried his name, yanked my hair while the tears spilled. From that great height I spied Asher stumbling and lost, and I cared not at all.

  Exhaustion bore me to the ground. My knees buckled, and I scraped them raw in my landing.

  I stared ahead, willing Edan to emerge from the mists.

  The outline of a masculine figure striding toward me slammed my heart against my ribs.

  I scrambled to my feet and ran toward him.

  Asher.

  Not Edan.

  My eyes rolled back in my head.

  If there was more, I don’t remember it.

  Chapter 4

  I woke on my back with a starry sky glittering overhead. Thick furs warmed the ground beneath me. Blankets bunched under my chin. Fever slicked my skin, and the slow burn made my joints ache.

  Tears came then, hot and bitter and stinging.

  “Edan,” I croaked. My voice was hoarse from screaming. I tasted bile when I swallowed.

  “You’re awake.”

  The weight of those two words spoken in another male’s voice crushed me.

  Pain ricocheted between my temples when I turned my head. “Asher.”

  He offered me a waterskin I recognized as one of mine. “Drink this.”

  My arms were leaden. My mouth filled with ashes. I wanted nothing but Edan, and he was gone.

  No. Not gone. Gone implied he might return.

  Edan was dead.

  I turned onto my side and curled into a ball under the covers, where reality was softer.

  Asher’s wide palm wrapped my forehead. “You’re burning with fever.”

  I nestled deeper into my pallet, crushing my eyes closed, pretending this was all a nightmare.

  Fever was the first stage of withdrawal. Then delirium set in. On its heels came agonizing death.

  I didn’t fear the end. There could be no ending worse than this, worse than living without Edan.

  Without an injection, I would die. I was grateful now I had skipped my morning dose.

  “I found syringes in your pack.” He shook me. I let him rattle my teeth. I was too weak, too sore to complain. “Edan mentioned some type of injection. Is that your problem? Is that what you need?”

  Figured he would snoop through my things as though I were already dead.

  “Answer me,” he barked. “Tell me how to save you.”

  “I don’t want to be saved.”

  He made a disgusted sound as he stood. “Then Edan’s sacrifice was for nothing.”

  A cry eased past my lips. He was right. If I died here, now, it was all for nothing.

  How could I face Edan in the spiritlands and tell him I died a sobbing coward?

  Asher’s voice sounded muffled by distance. “You leave me no choice.”

  Behind me, an ursus grumbled. It must be mine for him to have found the syringes.

  Metal clinked, the clasps on my saddlebags being unbuckled. Paper rustled. Paper.

  My journal.

  He called, “It says here you require an injection daily.”

  My gut twisted. “Give that to me.”

  He held the story of my life in his hands. All my secrets scribbled for him to read at his leisure.

  Stories of my brother and me, and I could bear no one to read them. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

  More noises carried from over my shoulder, but try as I might, I lacked the strength to roll over.

  His footsteps were muffled by grass, but his quick approach alarmed me. His face appeared over my side. Pity lent his features a gentleness I was past appreciating. “Hold still. This is going to hurt.”

  My skirt was rucked over my hip, my drawers tugged past the curve of my arse. Cold metal pierced my skin. I gasped as liquid fire set my body ablaze.

  “It hurts,” I told him, because I didn’t have to be strong for Asher as I had for Edan.

  He pulled my drawers back in place and smoothed down my skirt. He lifted me onto his lap and arranged my wings to get out the kinks. He placed the waterskin against my cracked lips and poured.

  After choking down a mouthful, I knocked it from his hand to keep him from drenching me.

  With a soft grumble, he tucked me tighter against him. I rested my head against his chest and tried pretending he was my brother. But each inhale told the truth. Asher’s scent was foreign, not familiar.

  “Thank you,” he mumbled into my hair. “You saved me back there.”

  The antivenin always made me drowsy, and the rumble of his
voice through his chest lulled me.

  “Marne?”

  “Mmm-hmm.”

  “We’re going to lie down now.” Cradling me in his arms, he walked on his knees until reaching the pallet’s edge. He laid us down, stretching me alongside him so my back faced his front. “Sleep.”

  With Asher curled protectively around me, I did.

  The customary mourning period for a wife was one week. I was no wife, and Edan had no grave for me to tend, no headstone for me to wreath with flowers. Instead those melancholy days passed in silence while I stared into the veil and willed him to walk out of it. For a time, I welcomed the notion risers might appear and set upon me in a savage end to a brutal life. But none appeared. Nothing did.

  Asher gave me seven days to the minute before bundling me up and sitting me on my ursus. The poor thing couldn’t stop sneezing. I had refused to bathe, or to even leave the pallet he had made me.

  My eyes watered when the wind changed and I smelled myself.

  Shifting to get comfortable in the saddle, I sucked in a harsh breath that almost choked me.

  My arse was covered in purple and yellowish bruises. Asher’s nursing skills had not improved.

  He pinned down my thigh. “Hold still or you’ll fall off.”

  I peeled his hand off my leg. “I can’t do this.”

  “You can and you will. We’re out of supplies.” He glared at me. “We’re leaving today.”

  I swung my leg over the opposite side of my mount, slid to the ground and rubbed my bottom.

  He strode around the sow and grasped my chin between his fingers. “What are you doing?”

  “What does it look like I’m doing?” I narrowed my eyes. “My arse feels like a pincushion.”

  His cheeks went ruddy. “Be grateful I bothered.”

  “You didn’t have to.”

  “Yes.” His gaze was a steel trap that captured mine. “I did.”

  “You don’t owe me.” I swallowed. “What I did for you I would have done for anyone.”

  His lips flattened, and he released me. “I see.”

  Sprung from his trap, I backed out of his reach while I had my wits about me. The marks of his fingers still burned. “As much as I disgust you, I’m shocked you saved me.”