A Feast of Souls: Araneae Nation, Book 2

by Hailey Edwards

“Our life threads…” I fingered the knot. “They’re tied.”

  The female beside us spluttered.

  “They are.” He kissed my fingertips. “And when you truly wake, you may hate me for it.”

  Dismissing his warning with a wave of my hand, I nestled back against his chest and let his arms and his warmth anchor me. My skin tingled. My thoughts were edged in fog. My aura, well, it shone.

  I frowned at that, and at the soft glow emanating from his body. Our colors matched. How odd.

  Sleep dulled my thoughts, but still I dreamed of him.

  Chapter Thirteen

  I woke in darkness. Bolted upright and clutched the sheets. Groped muscle and gasped when the arm I held grabbed me back. I panted. My chest stung. Fingernails sank into skin and dug deep.

  “Could you not claw me?” Vaughn cursed. “I’d rather not have any open wounds just now.”

  “Why is it so dark?” I whispered and scooted closer to the sound of his voice.

  His arms wrapped around my waist and dragged me flush against his chest. “Mother is sleeping. You were sleeping. Nerys is sleeping too.” He leaned in, nuzzled my throat. “I don’t mind the dark.”

  Bracing on his shoulders was all that kept me from pitching forward. Even in the gloom, his aura shone. I sensed I could read him now, but I didn’t dare. Not without his permission. Not after what…

  “Gods above. I thought I dreamt it.” My heart skittered, rousing a deep ache rooted in my chest. “Our life threads, you tied them.” I rubbed my palm over my chest. “I can feel you. We’re—we’re—”

  He captured my hands and placed them over his heart. “I had no choice.”

  I flinched at the pain those words caused.

  “Mother woke in a panic. I couldn’t rouse you. Your pulse was still and your eyes were vacant. You were dead.” Fury made his hands tremble. “I had to bring you back. You healed her. I owed you.” His grip tightened. “I used my thread as your lifeline, as I did before.”

  “You tied our life threads, Vaughn.” Panic crept into my voice. “I should never have said—”

  “If I hadn’t tied your soul to mine…I would have lost you.” He cupped my face. “Our threads… I knotted them. I know we’re…tangled. A priest can sort us out, or Old Father, whichever you prefer. I should have asked you.” Air whooshed from his lungs. “I had intended to ask you since Beltania.”

  I wished I could see his eyes. “I don’t know what to say.”

  A bony elbow sank into my side. “That’s because he hasn’t asked anything yet.”

  “Mother,” he chastised.

  “What? I’m right here, aren’t I?” She huffed. “All those whispers woke me up. Good thing too.” The mattress dipped as she readjusted. “I owe Mana my life, but I don’t owe her my clan. You ought to think long and hard about that before you propose to her without asking your mother, your maven, first.” The bed jostled and a snort rose from the corner. “Light the torches, Nerys. I want my heir and his—Mana—to see how serious I am.” Footsteps padded away and the door opened on the brightly lit hall. Nerys returned, lighting Isolde’s torches one by one until her bedroom fairly blazed. “There.”

  “Mother—” Vaughn began.

  “No.” She stared hard at me. “Salticidae believe in soul mates, and you’ve known Vaughn most of your life. Tell me straight if he’s yours.” Her blunt words dropped my mouth open. “That’s a no.”

  My head swung back toward Vaughn. “I didn’t— That’s not what I—”

  “I can’t believe it.” She balled her hand. “I had Lourdes in the palm of my hand.” She shook her fist. “Maven Lourdes, the bloody Araneidae maven, called on me for aid. Me. I had two sons, both of marriageable age, and I offered my heir the chance to govern by her side, and he said no.” Wild hairs flew about her face. “I thought maybe it was resentment, maybe he didn’t want his brother to govern this clan, and thought maybe he’s right. Rhys’s father was…” She turned aside. “Rhys is his father’s son. The boy is softhearted. Living here, warring here, would have taken its toll on him eventually.”

  “Your concern on my brother’s behalf touches me, but my decision to wed Mana has nothing to do with Rhys, or with his father, or with you.” He scoffed. “Ah. I see your interest wanes already.”

  She shoved me aside to glare at him. “He is as much my son as you—”

  “This clan and these people are mine by birthright,” Vaughn snapped. “Not his.”

  Careful of his hold on me, I slid from Vaughn’s arms. A glimmer in the air beside Isolde was the only indication Kowatsi remained. I slid through him with a shiver and ignored the lingering chills.

  When I reached the door, Nerys caught my arm.

  “You’re not leaving me here alone with them,” she said. “They’ll tear each other apart.”

  “There’s a pitcher of water in the washbasin.” I yanked from her grip. “Isolde complimented you on your aim. Use it if you must. Water will do neither of them harm, but it might cool their tempers.”

  “Where are you going?” Nerys blocked the door. “It’s too late for a female to wander alone.”

  “I’m going to examine the bodies.” I gripped the handle. She didn’t budge. “Please move.”

  Brynmor rose from a pallet on the floor and shook out his fur. He came to my side and scratched on the door. Nerys slid down the wall, away from us. Before she found her voice, I cracked the door open and Brynmor rushed into the hall. I followed, shutting the door and leaning against it a moment.

  Dark eyes bored into mine. Tension prickled my skull. “Daughter.”

  The word made my insides clench, so I pretended not to hear him.

  “I want to see the bodies while Isolde’s aura is fresh in my mind. I’d like to compare her taint to theirs.” I considered the missing puzzle piece. “We should also see if there are any animal carcasses I can examine. This is our best chance at comparing their auras. Can you find them for me, you think?”

  He rolled his eyes and tossed his head.

  As a former Mimetidae paladin and father of their best tracker, a trait his son no doubt inherited from him, who shared the body and senses of a canis, nature’s best tracker, I must have insulted him.

  Muffled argument drifted down the hall. Vaughn and Isolde either hadn’t realized I’d left or they didn’t care. Their bitter past had little to do with me. I was a handy starting point to launch words both had swallowed for far too long. She and Vaughn would both feel better for lancing old wounds.

  They loved each other too much to inflict more permanent damage.

  Though Cleit hadn’t specified, I presumed the entrance to the clan head’s residence, the door we had used, was in the east tower. As we passed a sharp corner leading down another stretch of long hall, I considered our direction and decided we had passed the south tower. Cleit hadn’t mentioned who—if anyone—was housed there. I prayed for the best, rooms filled with healthy females or sound guards.

  The stench hit me before we rounded the last corner. Through warped glass, I saw the neat rows of bodies lining the garden. Thin sheets wrapped them. Thick rope stacked them several bodies high.

  My kneecaps cracked on stone. I knelt there, in the archway, and prayed for strength.

  There were so many. Their sizes and shapes… I could guess… I didn’t want to know.

  Stale sweat, my own, cut through the smell of ripening bodies and gave me some relief. Fingers shaking, I shoved hair from my face, tamping down the rising nausea making it impossible to stand.

  Brynmor whined.

  His expression was limited by his new form, but through our connection, his aura spiked with all the colors of the worst sort of agony. He had loved these people. Seeing them reduced to bundles in a garden rattled the calm center allowing him to keep hold of the canis’s body. Yet another trait he had in common with his son, that unshakable core of stability. How I wished Vaughn was with me now.

  Vaughn. No. I wasn’t ready to face this
new bond with him or what it meant for me, for us.

  A wet swipe of Brynmor’s tongue yanked me from my thoughts. I scrubbed my cheek and made my legs bear my weight. Once I reached the center of the garden, I sat on the damp grass and crossed my ankles beneath me. Brynmor sprawled beside me with his head on my lap. I scratched his ear and let the tickle of his fur spark our connection. With dregs of dayflower oil in my system, a light trance came easily. Opening to the miasma of negative energy I sensed here was foolhardy, but it was also necessary. At least I no longer had to worry about an anchor. Because of Vaughn, I had one for life.

  Another low whine urged me to hurry. Brynmor didn’t like being in this place and neither did I.

  Pulse calm, breaths level, I found my center and opened myself wide enough to read the auras of those around me. I had to squint, they burned so brightly, and all the same brilliant yellow as Isolde’s mass had been. Probing gently, I measured the residual energies here, shocked to find they ran high.

  How long had these bodies lain here? Remembering the husk devoid of energy Vaughn had found on our way here, I expected a hard search for tiny shreds of evidence. Yet the area was rife with energy.

  With a gasping intake of air, I resettled into my skin and became aware of my surroundings.

  A cold nose to my face made me wrinkle my nose. “You don’t have to urge me twice.”

  My legs were sturdier now. Eagerness to leave made me fleet of foot.

  “We should examine the animals. If the varanus herds died, they should be easy to spot.” I kept a brisk pace as we rounded the north tower and circled back to the east. I eyed the doorway through which we’d entered. Cleit hadn’t appeared. The hefty bolt he’d thrown earlier was what stood guard.

  Now that I thought about it, he had said two guards protected the garden. I saw not one. Odd.

  Brynmor scratched at the door. His tail swished with eagerness.

  A glance over my shoulder proved we were alone. This time of night, the city should be sleeping, and I wouldn’t venture far. I worried the heavy ring on my finger. I wished again for Vaughn, but his name sparked regret. I was bound to him until death parted us. I should feel something more than this pressing weight on my chest. Panic tiptoed back into my thoughts. Vaughn was mine. And I was his.

  Tamp. Tamp. Tamp. Down went the panic, forced into the soles of my feet.

  I glanced at the door, imagining fresh night air and the chance to walk out my problems.

  Pearce seemed the better informed between himself and Cleit. I would take his word on gangs.

  “Find the bodies.” I threw the bolt, and Brynmor shot through the crack. “Let’s get this done.”

  Cathis was gloomier by night. Shadows raked the cobbled roads, and little moonlight filtered through the wispy clouds. Brynmor scented the air, then pounced aside, eager, playful, asking me to hurry. I did. Whatever had him in high spirits, I enjoyed watching him leap and bound and act like a pup. When a breathy laugh escaped me, he peeked over his shoulder and let his tongue loll.

  How down I must look. Sad when a canis took it upon himself to lift a person’s mood.

  Metal pinged to our right.

  Brynmor swiveled his ears, low growls rumbling up his throat. “Someone follows.” When he lunged at thin air, snapping his teeth, snarling at shadows, chills swept the length of my spine.

  I sank fingers in his scruff and pulled. “East tower isn’t far.”

  Pots clattered and burst behind us. I spun as a thin shadow flickered past.

  He stared up at me. “We run.”

  I scanned the darkness but saw no signs of life. “If it’s a guard—”

  The street went quiet. Air stirred in a fetid rush, and my stomach rebelled.

  He barked and sprang into night too deep for my eyes to pierce. “Run. Now.”

  I obeyed before my head caught up to his order. Run. I was tired of running. I did it anyway.

  A yelp made me pump my legs faster. Brynmor. The fool should have taken his own advice instead of trying to defend me. I ran until I spotted torchlights burning along the wall. I was lost, twisted, with no clue where I was in relation to the tower. Males at their posts stopped and stared.

  I skittered to a stop, panting. “I need Pearce or Owain.”

  The youngest male swaggered toward me. “What do you want them for?”

  A burly male snared the youth by his collar. “You see that ring on her finger?” He shook the boy for emphasis. “That’s Vaughn’s ring. Fool that you are, I ought to let you proposition her.”

  “Uh, sorry, miss.” The youth hurried to untuck his shirt. “Haven’t seen a pretty female in a long while and you ran right to me.” His gaze dipped. “Breasts heaving…sweaty. Looking clean and healthy and smelling sweet…” He adjusted a bulge in his pants. “I, um, well, I apologize.”

  With a disgusted grunt, the bigger male said, “Find a dark corner and handle your business.”

  I choked on a gasp, face heating. At least my run had flushed my cheeks before his remark.

  “My nephew, by marriage,” the male groused. “Boy lacks the sense the gods gave a turnip.”

  Before he got more detailed, I rushed, “My canis was attacked, near the city center. I think.”

  “You think he was attacked, or you think it was near the city center?” His nostrils flared, and I was grateful directions weren’t needed. “Close enough. I can scent you all through the market.” He cast me a wink. “The boy’s right. You’re the sweetest thing to grace this city in far too long.”

  “I— Thank you?” I heard the question in my voice.

  “Calm yourself. I mean you no harm. No one will look at you twice if you flash that ring. As far as youths go…” He shrugged. “Cuff them hard enough and they can read the imprint later.”

  I tried to determine if he was serious. “I’ll remember that.”

  I had never punched a person before in my life. Something told me my ring had, though.

  “See that you do.” He paused, gulping a lungful of air. He circled his breaths in through his nose, then out through his mouth. “I smell blood. Looks like your canis knocked over some jugs, must have stepped on the shards. You’ll want to clean his paw or you risk him getting infected.”

  How matter-of-fact he sounded, but he hadn’t seen the west tower garden.

  Or perhaps he was yet another male using the we’ve lived through this before philosophy.

  “The canis wasn’t the one who broke the jugs. I sensed someone following me. We heard—I heard—the pottery shatter.” I figured, “Whoever was trailing me must have bumped the table. I didn’t see or hear anyone, just the jars break, but the canis vanished so I ran to the wall for help.”

  “You ought to know better than to explore the city this late, all alone too.” He appraised me. “Vaughn knows where you are?” He grunted. “That’s a no.” After cursing, he muttered, “Figures this would happen on my shift. Just wanted to guard my wall and go home. I can’t do that now.”

  I was disgruntled by the ease with which this clan of blunt and straightforward folk read me.

  We passed what appeared to be a butcher shop. The windows were busted and the door hung on its hinges. It was clean, but no one had made repairs. “Have you had trouble with thieves?”

  “Not since the supplies arrived.” He investigated behind a stack of barrels. “It was…bad for a while, but once we had food and water again, things settled. Patrols have been increased, and I don’t blame the maven for locking the females behind the tower’s walls until the males regained their senses.” He grasped a barrel, rolling it aside. “It’s safer they stay put too, until this passes.”

  I edged from his path. “Cleit mentioned trouble with gangs?”

  “One group of youths, not a gang. Cleit overreacted when one sought asylum in the towers.”

  How desperate that youth must have been to face Isolde’s wrath. “Cleit denied him access?”

  “One male among females?” The male g
lanced up. “I can’t say I blame him for what he did, turning the boy aside. We upped patrols, cracked down on their hideouts. Once supplies got here, people calmed and most went home, gave up their nights on the street for warm meals at home.”

  I worried Vaughn’s ring and wished he were here.

  He must be told how well Isolde had sewn her lies. No wonder the guardsmen were chipper and eager with a joke. After weathering the riots, the starvation, they thought they had beaten the plague. Females were sick, yes, but I knew now that they had been in seclusion and none of these males knew the extent of the illness. Forget the garden, I bet they hadn’t seen the north tower either.

  When they did, chaos would reign. Tension thickened the air, but her clan was sure they had been spared. Once realizing they hadn’t been… I prayed Isolde survived the fallout from her lies.

  Isolde had done her best. I believed that. But she had been ill when she made these decisions, and now she would be held responsible, the same as Vaughn would be. If she didn’t tell her clan the truth, she stood to lose everything when her lies were uncovered, and they would be, I knew.

  “You all right?” the guard asked. “It’s not that much blood. The canis probably hid here and licked his wounds.” He hoisted the barrel back into place. “I don’t think we’re going to find him until he wants to be found. Let’s get you back to Vaughn. He’ll be fretting that you’re missing.”

  With a final glance at the dark splotches on the barrels, I said, “If he’s noticed I’m gone.” The melancholy in my tone embarrassed me.

  “He’ll have noticed.” Murdoch grunted. “Believe that.”

  Together we walked the streets toward the towers while I kept an ear cocked for Brynmor.

  “What set you to walking?” he asked after a while.

  “I wanted to see the animal carcasses.” I hadn’t thought to censor my answer.

  “Why would you—?” His brow creased. “That’s not a place to go alone or in the dark.”

  “I’m a spirit walker.” It occurred to me we hadn’t exchanged names. “I’m Kokyangwmana.”

  “Salticidae,” he said, tapping below his eye. “I wondered. Few others have those eyes.”