Chapter 19
CHAPTER NINETEEN
ABBY
W e’re all tired this morning, but none as much as Quinn. His eyes are bloodshot and I don’t know if it’s because he hasn’t been sleeping, he’s right about getting sick, or if the screaming wraiths kept him up, but he looks to have gotten far less rest than usual. I brush up against the bond we share as if there’ll be some answer there. Some clue as to why this beautiful man is suffering in silence.
I feel a caress in response, followed closely by soft words that are meant just for me. ‘You could just ask. No need to snoop.’
Busted.
I do my best not to reveal the thought, but I can’t help but wonder if he would tell me the truth if I asked. “You had me worried last night.”
He takes my hand in his, and it’s just as warm and comforting as always. “I’m sorry. Really.”
“Is there something going on? You seem distant.”
He blows out a heavy sigh. “I just haven’t been sleeping well. And neither have you, so let’s not make a big deal about it. We’re going to get some answers from the Spider and then we’ll be one step closer to normal.”
I guess that’s my answer.
I hide my disappointment with a laugh that hopefully sounds genuine. “One step closer to normal? Do we even know what normal is?”
He chuckles too, but it’s just as forced. “No, but we’ll find out soon. I promise. And speaking of promises, I need you to promise me something.”
I cross my arms. “I’m not going to like this, am I?”
“Let me strike the bargain with the Spider.”
Well, that’s not what I was expecting. “Why does it matter who does it?”
“We don’t know what she’ll want.” His eyes are pleading, and that alone nearly makes me agree. That only lasts a moment though, because he doesn’t need to protect me. He may have me beat when it comes to brute strength, but I’m a Chosen.
“Exactly. Why should you have to pay it?”
“Because this is my family.”
“And I’m not?”
“Of course you are. That’s not what I meant. This is less about protecting you and more about getting the answers I need to be one step closer to vengeance. You know what Imelda did to me. It was more than just the curse. She had me convinced I murdered my sister. I could have saved her. She spent nearly six years locked away in the dark. I will never forgive myself for that, but if you let me make the deal to find out why, at least I can say I’ve done something.”
He’s right. If the roles were reversed, I’d want my vengeance too. He gave me my vengeance once when he let me kill the man who’d stolen something precious from me. He gave me my strength back when he’d kicked that knife across the dirt and asked me if I remembered how to kill. If he needs to be the one to find out the truth about Imelda and what she did to him, I can agree to that.
“There’s one more thing,” he adds, shrugging off his jacket. “Wear this.”
I take it from him, feeling the weight of it. Not only is it hot today, it’s way, way too big for me. “Why?”
He reaches a hand out and drags a finger along one of the golden vines on my arm. “The less she knows, the better.”
I shrug on the jacket and immediately feel like I’m drowning in it, but at least it smells like him. He unclasps the belt of daggers from my waist before refastening it over the jacket. That helps with some of the bagginess, but it’ll be obvious to anyone that I’m hiding something.
“Hold still,” he says, his hands undoing the ribbon I’d used to tie my hair back. My hair falls around my face and he pulls it forward, using it to mask the rose still visible on my collarbone. “This will have to do.”
“What about yours?” I ask.
He pauses a moment, as if just realizing he too wears the symbol, before bending down and laying his hand flat in a wet patch of earth. He rubs some of the mud over it, just enough so that it looks as if we’ve been traveling for some time and haven’t bathed.
“You missed a spot,” I tease when he stands.
He holds out his dirty hand to me as if threatening to rub it on my cheeks. “Did I?”
I duck out of his way, my laugh matching his. If we weren’t about to meet one of the most deadly beings alive, this might actually be fun.
I thought it would be harder to find the cave, but after only a relatively short walk, we stumble upon the sloping entrance. Ellis spotted it first, shortly after the two wolves with us detected the faintest hint of rotting flesh in the air. I’d hoped that smell had nothing to do with the cave, but as we stand outside it now, even I can smell the putrid sweetness.
The entrance is decorated with bones of various sizes dangling from invisible threads. They sway in the wind and clink against each other like twisted chimes. There are no skulls, so I can’t tell what animals these bones came from and I don’t ask Quinn or the wolves if they recognize them. The chill running through me is more than enough evidence that these could, in fact, be human.
It’s dark inside, but as we follow the passage deeper into the earth, my eyes are able to adjust just enough to avoid the jagged bones that stick out from the walls or hang overhead. Most are high enough above us that they don’t pose a threat, but after being knocked in the head by a ribcage that looked far too human, I’ve been on my guard. Quinn’s made a point of warning me, just in case. He can see nearly as well the wolves flanking us on either side, but his attention had been entirely on the path ahead and not what was happening overhead.
It feels like we’ve been walking for at least twenty minutes when the passage opens into a large, circular room. It’s brighter here, thanks to a large central fire that is seemingly burning without wood or any other fuel source I can pinpoint. The air is thick with magic instead of smoke, but it fills my throat all the same and forces me to clear it.
The room may be large, but it feels cramped. Furniture litters the room and, keeping with the design of the passage, they’re made entirely of bone. The massive bed, sprawling bookshelves that hold more trinkets than books, and the modest table just a short distance ahead of us sporting two matching chairs that look anything but comfortable.
‘I guess she doesn’t like visitors,’ I say to Quinn, but I know the wolves can hear me, too. I’ve opened the connection to them as a precaution because even though we’re here for the Spider’s help, there’s no telling if she’ll cooperate. She had to get these bones from somewhere.
Before anyone can answer, ominous laugher echoes around the room with no obvious source. The four of us spin every which way in search of the Spider, but she’s nowhere to be found. Gods, I hope she can’t make herself invisible.
“Up here, darlings,” a dainty voice coos.
All heads shoot upwards. I could have sworn there was a solid rock ceiling above us, but now all I see is another passage shooting straight up at an impossible angle. No one could climb that.
Movement catches my eye as shadows skitter in the firelight. Something is crawling down.
No, not crawling. Swinging .
She’s swinging on hanging bones, leaping from one cluster to the next, working her way down the hundred foot drop.
She lets go suddenly and lands easily on her feet a few steps in front of us in an impressive display of athleticism. For someone who looks as if they haven’t seen sunlight once in their entire life, she’s pretty spry.
Her skin is grey and, although I wouldn’t call it wrinkled, it’s not tight on her bones. It looks far too soft, as if she would turn to mush if I reached out to touch her. Grey eyes match her skin, though there’s a luminance to them that has nothing to do with the fire flickering behind her. Her hair is long, and that’s the only thing about her that isn’t grey. It’s blacker than the darkest of nights and hangs perfectly straight down the length of her body and pools on the floor beneath her. I’ll have to remember not to get too close to her. Not because she could more easily murder me, but because stepping on her hair won’t win me any favours.
The wolves at my side growl in warning. I feel the same urge to leave this place as they do. Even with the Spider grinning far too wide, it’s impossible to miss that we’re not entirely welcome here.
“I always did prefer cats,” she says, eyeing the wolves. Seamus whimpers under her stare but then snaps his teeth, winning a chuckle out of her. “You must forgive me. It’s not every day I get visited by a Chosen.”
She knows what I am.
“Yes, I know who you are,” she says before any of us can speak. “Even though you did your best to hide your markings.” Her eyes slide to Quinn. “Always so protective.”
“How do you know so much about us?” I ask. I can see the anger hardening Quinn’s eyes and hope my question is enough of a distraction to keep this meeting from going south before we get the answers we seek.
She ignores me and instead opens a cabinet on the bone shelf beside us. “Would you care for some tea?” When her hands emerge, she’s holding a silver tray with a matching teapot. The teacups, however, do not match. In fact, they’re not teacups at all. She fills one with a liquid that looks far too red to be tea and holds it out to me. I fight the large to vomit as I shake my head in refusal of what can only be the age-marked skull of a child.
She shrugs and takes a sip from it herself, a smile turning up the corners of her mouth.
I feel Quinn press up against the bond in a silent offer of support. It’s a reminder that he’s here with me and we can get through this.
The Spider sets down the skull with a loud thunk, all traces of the smile now gone from her features. “Hasn’t anyone ever told you how rude that is?”
My eyes flick down to the skull and the red liquid still inside. Rudeness be damned, I’m not drinking that.
She rolls her eyes. “Not that. To be bonded is a gift from the Gods, and as a child of God, none of what you do is private. If you’re going to touch each other, use your hands.”
I knew mageborns were rare long before they were thought to have disappeared entirely, but could this woman really be the child of one of the Gods? If she’s privy to our mating bond, she must be even more powerful than she looks.
“We need information,” Quinn says, beating me to the punch.
The Spider lets out an exaggerated sigh. “That’s what they all say. When you’re a thousand years old, human requests become so boring. What is it you wish to know?”
I let Quinn answer because that was our deal. He needs to be the one to find the answers that will bring him one step closer to vengeance. “Why Imelda came to you. What you told her. What she wanted with my sister.”
The Spider groans. “Always so predictable. What you seek is a secret.”
“Name your price.” She eyes him, not speaking, so after a moment he continues. “That’s how this works, isn’t it? Nothing for free.” That’s why we’d come with a satchel full of gold and jewels, though I don’t know what this woman would want with those. If she’s been alive for a thousand years, she likely has more riches than she’d ever need. And given where and how she lives, I’m not sure she has need for them at all.
“I only trade secrets for secrets.”
Quinn and I share a look before I answer. “I don’t know what we could tell you. You seem to already know everything there is to know about us.”
She smiles a wicked grin. Her teeth are far too white and perfect for someone who lives in a cave and probably doesn’t care for them. “But do you know everything there is to know about each other?”
Her gaze is locked on me, so I know I’m the one meant to answer. When I glance at Quinn, he’s staring straight ahead at the Spider. He was tense before, but something seems to have changed in him.
“Everything that matters,” I say after a moment. I don’t know why Quinn suddenly looks so nervous, but if he is harbouring a secret, I know it can’t be anything monumental. He wouldn’t keep something important from me.
Her smile somehow widens even further at my answer, and she switches her attention to Quinn. “I will tell you what you seek if you tell your mate the secret you’ve been keeping from her.”