Spider's Kiss

by Jesse Sprague

  “Marim,” Darith said. How did you ask a woman to marry you? She had no real choice in the matter, and they both knew it.

  “Father says…” Her huge eyes lifted to him. How sweet she looked, with freckles fanning out over her nose. “He says I’m pregnant. That he knows I am. I think he’s right. I feel like I knew, deep down.”

  “You are. I can see it inside you… the darkness curves into you. There is no doubt, not with this web that connects us to them.” Darith crossed the room and took her small hands. “I want to marry you, Marim—to give you some of the life you deserve.”

  “Father said you would, but why would you? I ruined myself, Darith. I let Halis do things… I let him—”

  “That doesn’t matter. Not to me. Many women are not virgins. No matter what the old biddies say. You are no less valuable now than you were before.”

  “This”—Marim sobbed into her hands—“isn’t what I wanted—for you to take me because you had no other choice. You feel you must protect me.”

  “I do have a choice. Stop crying. You’re acting like a child. I’m giving nothing up. If anything, you are. Perhaps you could not find a noble husband, but I can be no real husband to any girl. You realize I’ll be like this forever.” He waved to his legs.

  “I don’t care!” She flared, her shoulders straightening and fire returning to her gaze.

  “You should.” She should be some man’s wife. A real man. A man who could take care of her. “I’ve asked an old school friend of mine to go with you back to your father’s house. You’ll need her. Don’t argue.”

  “Why? I have servants.”

  “Your nightmares are getting worse, and the web tugs at you. She’s trustworthy. I can’t protect you from here.”

  Marim leaned closer to him, a ghost of a smile on her lips. “I love you, Darith.”

  “I know. Now go. Your father will be looking for you.”

  ∆∆∆

  Berrick took in a deep breath of the city air before stepping into the single modern building in the entire downtown area. His office, due to the regularity of visiting dignitaries and communication from other worlds, was a fantastic creation of metal, glass, and circuitry running over the walls where in other offices artwork might hang.

  The marble-floored lobby narrowed at the far end, making it look deceptively large—an intentional ploy of the architects. Most of the halls that led off of the lobby led to offices of bureaucrats and the crystal-doored elevators led to the meeting rooms and farther up to the governmental lodging. But at the far end sat Sue-Ellen’s desk and behind it, Berrick’s office.

  Berrick started down the corridor, avoiding eye contact with the detectives and officials who littered the chairs like landmines waiting to destroy what remained of his composure.

  I can’t continue to do this. Marim is out of danger. I need to know what it was I unleashed on the universe.

  So far Sue-Ellen had been unable to obtain any information on Silvia and Halis. It was as if they didn’t exist. But everyone had a record, somewhere, somehow.

  Few glanced up at him as he stalked by, most absorbed in their own worlds, but Steven, an older fellow who worked directly under Berrick, stood and crossed to meet his boss.

  “How was the sabbatical?” Steven asked. He shoved his glasses up higher on his nose. Berrick doubted he needed the corrective lenses—they were an affectation. He’d lived on other worlds. He would have gotten any issue with his eyes fixed.

  “I’d prefer not to discuss it.” Berrick gazed at the glass door of his office. The longer he stood, the more likely his contemporaries in the government would spy him. He needed time before meeting with them.

  “Ah. I suppose that’s why you’re back so soon.” Steven nodded repeatedly and, noting Berrick’s gaze, he shot out a quick, “So sorry. You must be in a hurry to get back to work.”

  “Yes. If you’ll excuse me.” Berrick didn’t wait a moment longer and hurried toward Sue-Ellen. He had no intention of cutting his sabbatical short, but even on extended leave, he had enough clearance to do what he needed to do. Berrick intended to take the entire year available to him if that was what it took.

  At his approach, Sue-Ellen stood and unlocked the door to his office, went inside, and turned on the light. Berrick entered behind her and closed the door. Sue-Ellen set the privacy screens on the glass office, dimming the glass so from the outside it would look like a marble wall.

  “Thanks, Sue. Talking isn’t something I want to do today. Any news on Silvia and Halis?”

  “No, sir. Still nothing. We’ve been asked to stop looking. The Brothel discovered our inquiries and while denying that such people existed, it also requested we desist.”

  “Blasted corporations. With their backing of High Councilor Trilda, they get away with murder and worse… This whole government is beyond redemption.”

  “Might do to keep that opinion between us.” Sue-Ellen tugged at the high white collar of her blouse.

  “I will.” Berrick went to his desk and sat down, eyeing the pile of paperwork with disdain.

  “There is something else, sir.” Sue Ellen stood stiff and her fingers continued to fidget.

  She’s nervous. He watched her well-manicured hands fondle the lace edges. She’s incredibly nervous.

  “Go ahead, Sue.”

  “A missive came in from The Council of Five’s messengers.” She stressed that name, not the Galactic Council but specifically the highest branch of that council. “They’re interested in your daughter’s case and are offering to send officers to continue the investigation.”

  Berrick dug his fingers into his thighs. The High Council? No. They wouldn’t be coming around—over his dead body.

  “It seems something in Darith’s witness statement interested them.”

  “The ravings of a teen?” What did Darith say? Why would The Council care? It doesn’t matter. No way are they coming out here and taking up that investigation. It will take them no time at all to find my involvement… and to ruin any chance I have at getting back at Silvia and Halis.

  “As far as I can tell, it was the mention of an eight-legged monster.”

  “Message them back. Let them know it was just a boy’s ravings. Tell them we found a syringe and after testing the contents we found a hallucinogenic—”

  “Lie?” Sue-Ellen raised both eyebrows. “Lie to a High Councilor?”

  “Yes.” A High Councilor, not The Council of Five. Interesting, so only one of them was involving themselves. “This is my family, Sue. Do you remember when they sent their agents for Polly’s death? I won’t let them do that again—erase the whole thing, not with Marim in the middle.”

  “Berrick, we can’t lie to a High Councilor.”

  “So don’t. But be convincing—there was no fucking spider. Just a young boy who’d been drinking. That’s true. We can get Darith under oath if need be. Which councilor?”

  “Councilor Trilda.”

  Berrick sighed. Too bad. Trilda was a cold bitch; no use appealing to the family element with her.

  Sue-Ellen shuffled her feet and Berrick waited for her to finish her internal debate.

  “We found a corpse floating downriver from The Brothel. No name, no family. According to the papers, he fits the description for the male assailant. Though from the picture I don’t see the link. Still it might help if we had a dead culprit to show the councilor… but then you’ll need to close the case. Am I right in assuming you intend to handle this off the books?”

  Berrick nodded.

  “Well, we have someone who fits the bill. Someone we can send to Councilor Trilda if need be.”

  “Do it.”

  “I still don’t like this. I think you need more time away. You aren’t ready to be back here.”

  Berrick pulled a stack of paperwork to him. “Ready has nothing to do with it. Just get The Council of Five away from my daughter’s case.”

  Sue-Ellen nodded and silently exited the office. Berrick slumped again
st his desk, burying his head in his hands.

  Chapter 15

  Weddings & Houses

  The church was a solid structure—squat and remote. On all sides spread rocky fields with grass and flowers sprouting from the cracks. Beyond the rocks, the horizon sported trees and mountains. A distant city rippled in the waves of heat. Dual roads, one for cars and one for carriages, spread out both North and South from the church. Darith stood outside, watching the grass ripple.

  The new suit clung hot and heavy to his shoulders. Darith struggled to recall the last time he’d ventured to this place.

  Belief in the gods was almost nonexistent, so the church only opened for weddings and funerals. Several weddings had passed since Petyr’s funeral, but those memories were hazy and distant, irrelevant to his life. Only the funerals stood out, and as he watched the grass dance, he pictured the ashes being scattered, gray flecks coating the yellow flowers.

  “I didn’t understand back then what the crown of flowers you helped me make really meant,” Marim said. Her hand draped over his shoulder. “Those flowers grow from the dead. I imagine now they watch with the eyes of those passed.”

  “Go inside. You need to be getting ready,” Darith said, moving his eyes to her. The intricate white lace of her wedding gown rippled in time with the flowers. She touched him with one hand and the slight protrusion of her belly with the other. He wanted to hold her, kiss those soft cherub lips. “Mother must be livid at your hair being down.”

  “Please, Darith, don’t tell me to put it up. My mother wore hers down with a chain of pearls. I want a flower chain. I need it. My heart says that is the only way to have Petyr and Mom with me.”

  His throat pinched closed, and he took a deep breath to clear it.

  “We should leave this planet, Marim. Leave the past.” Darith placed his hand over hers on her belly. The child inside, as if sensing him, moved, the vibrations traveling through her fingers to his palm.

  “I’m afraid that’s impossible,” Marim said. “In the daylight, I can pretend, but I feel it. The day this child comes, the cocoon of their web will be complete. I don’t know if I’ll be able to find the light again. It’s too late to escape.”

  “All those years ago, I swore to protect you. Here, in this field, I gave my word. I may not be much in the way of a gentleman, but I keep my word. Your father allowed himself, then and now, to be hindered by the law. I have no boundaries, Marim. I won’t let them win.”

  “Mom was pregnant when she died. Odd thing was, doctors said she was infertile. They didn’t know how I’d even been conceived. Mom and Dad never talked about it, but she changed after Petyr’s birth. She was afraid. I saw it. She’d welcomed the bad in when she took those drugs, and once you do that, it’s only a matter of time.”

  “That’s nonsense.”

  “No. I let Halis’ poison in, and the rest must run its course.”

  Darith forced his eyes from her. He wanted to hold her until her voice lost the wandering listless quality. That the world would harm her, his one pure thing, was like a rat gnawing at his breast. For now, all he could do to shield her was wed her, but it wouldn’t always be so.

  He focused the drive inside him, dwelling on her smile, and stretched his hand in front of him. Slowly the skin darkened as he reached to the web, loosening the thing that sat so firmly against his spine. One at a time, the yellow flowers snapped free and bound themselves into a triple-rowed crown above his knees.

  “Darith,” Marim breathed.

  When he looked up a soft smile changed her expression to one fit for an angel and tears shone in her eyes, one racing down her cheek to her chin.

  “If I could stay with you, I would,” she said.

  “I wish I could be a real husband to you. I try to believe as my parents do, despite all logic, that the child is mine. That we will have a life. But if all I can give you is a few months, I’ll give you the universe for a few months.” And I’ll get you back. If I must destroy this world and all on it, I’ll get you back. And Gods, I’ll find a way to harness this power and be whole.

  “I trust you.” She took the completed crown and settled the flowers onto her head. Her fingertips brushed over the petals.

  Making the flower chain had left a tingle in his fingers, as if the magic remaining awaited expression. He set his hand on her stomach and freed the residue. Inside Marim, the fetus’ joy, instinctual and fresh, traveled to him.

  She is mine.

  “Marim!” The sharp cry came from the church. Darith didn’t have to turn to know his mother strode out toward them. “What are you doing, child? You must get inside. Your father is waiting for you.”

  “Of course, countess,” Marim said. Before departing, she leaned down and kissed Darith. Compared to the kisses of village girls, the touch was chaste. Yet the soft brush, the slight parting, of her lips warmed and chilled him at once. She was present over every inch of him for the moment the kiss lasted. His breath hitched as she pulled back a mere few inches.

  “Nothing could ever make you less to me. Whatever you are, that is all I shall ever want in a husband. And if chance gives us more one day, it will not make these moments less.”

  Darith wanted her lips back, not the sweet meaningless words. He almost told her how foolish she sounded. A marriage that did not include coupling was not a marriage that could satisfy anyone. But on this one day, he would give her the gift of delusion and perhaps one other thing.

  “I”—the words stuck, his nature fighting the utterance—“love you.”

  Her brilliant smile was worth the effort.

  ∆∆∆

  Berrick paced in the small room, his badge burning against his leg. When Marim dashed in, sunshine clothed her, and his heart seized. For an instant, she seemed Polly’s ghost. He flinched as she moved, becoming Marim again.

  She surged, a force of nature, to his side.

  “Marim, there’re things a father says on his daughter’s wedding day.”

  “Don’t, Father, please,” Marim said. She kissed his cheek.

  “Do you have questions?”

  “Only one, but you won’t like it. I don’t need to ask, but…” She paused and clutched his hands. “I’m afraid of so many things, Father, but there is one wound that festers. One that will bleed at an answer, perhaps, but an answer is what I need, lest doubt be an infection in my soul.”

  “Ask,” he said. This will be about her mother. How will I answer? How can I?

  “Could you have saved her? I recall them coming around, the planet’s elite, the day she went missing. You screamed at them and I ran and hid. But I never knew… was she already dead and your anger aimed at their betrayal and your own acceptance? Or was she alive and… you couldn’t or wouldn’t sacrifice what was needed to save her? Please, please. I know what the question means.”

  Marim’s eyes burned and Berrick closed his own to block the stare. Could I have saved her? Yes, but not in the way she means. I could have fled Yahal years earlier… The moment I knew she was pregnant with Petyr and that she must have used illegal means.

  “Father? Please. No answer could make me hate you. Nothing can change my love.”

  “She was already gone when they came. The only one I could save that day was you and that was with a promise that I would not investigate, not call The Galactic Council’s attention.”

  Marim’s arms wrapped around him and her head snuggled against his chest. A flash of Polly’s gray face flashed through his mind. Her death never avenged, her husband working for those who’d taken her. He shoved her back and turned away.

  “I failed her, Marim. Darith is a good man. He’ll take care of you.”

  “You aren’t handing me over, Father. I’m still yours. I always will be. Love doesn’t need limits. Wherever Mother is, she’d forgive you. She loves you.”

  Berrick said nothing as her footsteps drifted away. After safely tucking away his memories, burying them beneath mental walls built and rebuilt over the years,
he walked to the door of the sanctuary. He paused there, resting his forehead against the doors.

  “How lucky they are,” murmured a woman from inside. Berrick couldn’t see who.

  “Indeed, to have a youthful indiscretion give his house an heir. To think the night before his accident!”

  Berrick huffed. He hadn’t started that rumor and though it served Marim’s interest, he didn’t like it. Speaking out would shatter her peace, so he held his.

  “And her… What a match!”

  “Too bad he—”

  Berrick pushed past the door, cutting off whatever comment came next. These nobles grated on him now, leaving him raw. Work friends were scattered in the pews, but they were almost as bad. Most didn’t know the secrets of his wife’s death and those who did never spoke of it. But he saw his failure in them.

  Polly had asked to leave Yahal once when she’d learned she couldn’t conceive a second child. She’d begged him, showing him leaflets of procedures done on other worlds. She’d even found job listings on those planets. But Yahal had been safe, had shared his values. They’d never find an equal station on another world, and he’d doubted she really wanted to start scrimping and saving. No, it had seemed wrong to leave for access to drugs they’d agreed together were immoral. He’d been a fool to think she’d accepted his decision. Blind and stubborn, he’d even excused Petyr’s inexplicable birth.

  He walked directly to the front, not speaking to anyone or making eye contact. After settling in the front pew, he waited. It wouldn’t be long. Enduring the chatter around him was torment. A few minutes later, Darith entered with the priest at the front of the room and the groom positioned himself on the platform. The priest spoke opening words Berrick didn’t hear and then the door at the back opened and Marim entered.

  Auburn hair burned like a fire of blood against Marim’s pale cheek and her white gown. Her face, which had never been exceptionally beautiful, had altered in the past three months. She was as lovely as an angel now. That she was carrying a child was hidden from the naked eye in the loose, white dress she wore.