Chapter 20
CHAPTER TWENTY
QUINN
T he blood drains from my face at the Spider’s offer. A secret for a secret, the truth for the truth. I know what she wants from me, but I can’t force my lips to move. I can’t even turn my head to look at Abby, though I can feel her gaze on me and her curious worry through the bond.
My ears ring. Softly at first, but then it grows louder. So loud that it sounds like screaming.
Like the veil wraiths.
My hands fly to my ears in an attempt to drown out the noise, but it’s not coming from somewhere around me. They’re inside my head. Screaming and crying and singing their deadly song as they hunt for me. The invisible sword dangling above my head swings wildly again, ready to snap at any second.
Abby’s hands are on mine. Her wide blue eyes stare into me, lips moving but no sound is loud enough to overtake the screaming.
Oh, Gods. Make it stop. Please, make it stop!
And then it does.
As quickly as the screaming started, it vanished entirely, leaving me a crumpled mess on the ground. I didn’t even realize I’d fallen. The Spider towers above me, laughing wildly to herself.
Abby’s lips are still moving, but I can’t hear her over the pounding of my heart. It’s beating so fast that I feel as if it might burst in my chest with such force that it shatters my bones. I bet the Spider would use them to decorate this place, along with the hundreds of other humans she displays in bits and pieces.
‘Quinn. Talk to me. What’s wrong?’ I hear her then, through the bond. Her voice chases away some of the panic, and I find myself enough to clamber to my feet.
‘Nothing. I just… It’s nothing.’
“More lies,” the witch cackles. “I warned you, nothing is private.”
“What did you do to him?!” Abby demands, and Gods, she’s fearless. I bet she’s the first person to so much as raise their voice to the creature in front of us.
“I was just making sure he knew which secret I was referring to.”
Abby’s gaze returns to me. “There’s more than one?”
“No!” I say too quickly. This fucking witch is really starting to piss me off. “There’s one thing I didn’t tell you. Only one.”
The betrayal shining in her eyes tells me that my admission doesn’t make it much better. “Then tell me. You wanted to make this deal, so make it.”
There’s no way out of this. This isn’t how I wanted her to find out, but if I refuse, we leave empty-handed and Abby will never let it go. She knows I’ve been lying to her and if I refuse to come clean, it will only make things worse between us. She doesn’t even know what it is yet, and I can already feel the anger and disappointment swirling inside her.
“The night we saw the veil wraiths for the first time, Jade pulled me aside to warn me. He said that anyone who sees a loved one beyond the veil is fated to die within a year.”
A hand flies to her mouth. I hadn’t realized it had been holding mine, but now I feel nothing but its absence.
“Go on,” the Spider coos. This is what she wanted. Entertainment.
I do as she says, hating every moment of this. Loathing her just as much as I loathe what this is doing to Abby. With our bond so open, I’m feeling her reaction as if it were my own. The hurt. The betrayal. The devastation. “But he lied. It was a lot less than a year. Weeks. Days, even.”
“But you’re alive. You’re—” She cuts off suddenly, and I know it’s because she’s only just realizing the extent of what happened. “Jade’s sacrifice. He knew you were going to die. That’s why he did it.”
“Yes.” I can’t say anything more than that.
“And you’re alive.”
“Yes.” She’s too close to knowing, but there’s no way to stop this. The Spider probably sensed the lie the moment we entered her trap. No matter what we asked for, this would have been the price.
“Why didn’t you just tell me? You’re alive. Jade is alive. Why keep this from me? We’ve had weeks to talk about it, so don’t tell me you just didn’t find the right time.”
I feel the hope in her words, and that’s probably what hurts most of all. She doesn’t want to see it. Doesn’t want to connect the dots that are already lined up and waiting for her. I know I should answer her, but I can’t. I can’t be the one to break her heart the same way mine has slowly been breaking with each and every sleepless night. Instead, I let her read the truth in my eyes. They sting and blur with my guilt.
Her eyes widen when the last piece falls into place, and then they narrow. “You lied to me again last night, didn’t you? You saw Evan in that rift!”
“Yes.” I have to force the word out. One of the wolves whines, but I don’t bother to find out which.
“So what Jade did didn’t matter.” Her words are soft, but the emotion behind them is sharp. Every word she speaks is another slice into my flesh.
“It seems he extended my timeline.”
“How long do we have left?” There’s that hopefulness again. The insistence that there must be a way out of this.
“I have no idea.”
The Spider’s laughter cuts through the tension as she dances in a tight circle, clapping her hands at the entertainment I’ve provided. “Tell her of the weight of it. Tell her how you feel death pressing down on you heavier than even the weight of what you carry in your pocket. With each day, it grows heavier. Each nightmare brings it closer. Tell me—how do you sleep while the wraiths sing you their lullaby? Do you sleep? ”
“That’s enough!” I shout, unable to take her mockery any longer. “It’s your turn.”
I nearly expect Abby to object, but her lips remain in a flattened line. We’re far from done talking about this, but for now, we can set it aside to get the answers we’ve come for.
The Spider lets out a disappointed huff. “Jealousy brought Imelda to me.”
“Jealousy of whom?” She’s not going to make this easy.
“Your mother. She was prophesied to bear a Chosen child and because of that, her people revered her. Imelda wanted that honour. She wanted to be the one to birth the child that would save the sirens. She went to her mother and asked her to weave fate to make it so. The queen refused.”
“And so Imelda went to you.”
“Correct.” The word is sing-song. She is too joyful for this dreary place.
“What did you tell her?”
“I told her that Sierra would refuse her role and flee. If Imelda wished for a Chosen of her own, she would need to weave her own fate.”
“But that’s not possible,” Abby says before I can. Her tone is flat, and I know it’s because of the emotion still churning within her.
“It is not possible without a weaver. I told her that Sierra would bring into this world a daughter who would possess such a gift. If she wanted to harness that for herself, she would need to steal the child.”
“Why did she wait so long?” I want to ask her how she knew so much of the future without being a weaver herself, but I can’t risk another price. Imelda is more important.
“She did not want to take the child. I provided her with an alternative, but warned her it was not a guaranteed success.”
“What was the alternative?” Abby asks immediately. She must have figured out what I have. That the Spider will not give us information without a direct question. The problem is, there’s no telling how many questions my revelation bought us.
“I gave her the spell to split a soul and the date to cast it. On the night of the ritual, she was to sleep with Lunae’s king and fall pregnant with his child. Exactly nine months later, both her and Sierra would birth a child. Two daughters, one soul. Twins, in a way. One child would be stronger than the other, but I could not tell her which.”
“Why the king?” Abby asks, and I flinch at the wasted question.
The Spider shrugs. “I do not make the rules. I merely find the answers. Fate required her to bed the king. The events that led to that were Imelda’s doing, not mine.”
I don’t know which events she means until I see it clearly on Abby’s face. Her mother would have had to die in order for the king to remarry. Is it possible that, if none of this happened, her mother might have survived her fate?
“Why did she take Kaylee if she already had Arabella?” I need to know.
“Arabella was the stronger child, but the key to weave rests with your sister. Imelda did not ask, so I did not tell her that her goal was not to have the more gifted child. Now, I have given you all the information I have,” the woman says, suddenly sounding bored. “So unless there’s anything else…”
“Tell me how to save Quinn.” Abby’s words come swiftly. Far too quickly for me to stop her.
“No,” I growl. “You promised.”
“Don’t talk to me about promises. You lied to me. And for the record, I promised you could make the deal, not that I wouldn’t strike one of my own.”
I reach for her, but she takes a step back. The Spider’s laugh has me feeling sick.
“Are you prepared to pay the price, my dear?”