A Feast of Souls: Araneae Nation, Book 2 (31 page)

“You gave her a precious gift—the confidence of her future paladin in her worth. I think it’s safe to say Nerys coddles the girl too much.” I rubbed his arm. “You gave her a purpose. Now, let’s leave her to it. If she calls, we’ll hear. Assuming Nerys doesn’t manage to beat us to her.”

Flustered, he gave me a tender look. “I will do better.” He brought my fingers to his lips. “If anyone can teach me, it’s you.” His tone went gruff. “Cathis is a hard city, with sturdy people. If you choose to remain here, with me, your softness, your gentleness, will better all of us in time.”

Praise from him warmed me, but it was the note of understanding creeping into his tone that gave me hope. This was the first time Vaughn had mentioned our future or his vision for it, and I was given the choice of whether to stay or to go. I stood on my tiptoes and gave him a brief kiss.

Progress he had promised me, and it appeared progress had been made.

Vaughn touched his lips, grinned. “I should compliment you more often.”

“Compliments mean little to me.” I left him frowning. “They’re paid easily enough.”

Smart as he was, Vaughn would match my happiness to being given a choice…eventually.

With a smile that deepened his scowl, I set to my task. Much as the others had, these patients showed marked improvement. Fever was absent, except in one instance. Elderly were difficult to heal under the best circumstances. I made a note and I’d monitor this patient closer than the rest.

Once I was satisfied the results were positive and that there were no side effects from the oil they had ingested, I left them to their sleep. If their recovery progressed as the others had, then it would be tomorrow before they were awake and aware enough to eat. With that in mind, I would ask for help in the kitchen tonight so that we had enough broth prepared for all who were hungry.

My spine popped as I stood. “Well, what do you think?”

“They’re all more alert than yesterday.” He stood with a shoulder braced against the wall. “I have less experience in such matters, but only the blind could doubt their health has improved.”

“I agree.” I made my way toward the third room. “If there is no improvement in these cases, then I think it’s safe to say the dayflower oil’s curative effects will help us stamp out the plague.”

Vaughn let his head fall back on his shoulders. His lips moved, I thought in prayer. Tempted to join him, I had a better idea. Once this day was behind me, I would ask Isolde’s permission to use her shrine and prayer space. It was the closest to Old Father as I could get, and I missed him.

“We know that Nerys at least encouraged Crystin to believe the ‘potion’ would work. She’s done the same with these two rooms, so the results can’t be dismissed.” I braced on the door and prepared myself. “Assuming there’s been no change and that the sweet oil we substituted had no effect on these cases, then we can face your clan with more than hope. We can face the whole of the Araneae Nation with a cure. We can save lives. We can spare families from our clans’ fates.”

News would spread like wildfire once the Mimetidae announced a cure had been discovered.

Old Father would… I’m not sure what he would think of the choices I had made, but he was a healer first. Perhaps this boon would renew interest in the old ways before they were lost to us.

An ear-piercing shriek snapped me from my thoughts. My gut twisted. “Crystin.”

Two strides and Vaughn burst through the door. Six strides later, I joined him, skittering to a stop at the edge of a sword. Guards ringed the room. Murdoch stood at the edge of the gathering.

“What is the meaning of this?” Vaughn demanded.

The male nearest Vaughn applied enough pressure to dent Vaughn’s skin with his blade. His hand vibrated with rage. “Where is my wife?” Spittle flew from his lips. “Where is my Dianna?”

“Careful there, Deverell,” Murdoch warned. “He’s heir until the council says otherwise.”

“I figured you for a male of your word, Murdoch.” Vaughn seethed. “We have hours left.”

Murdoch grimaced. “You asked me to bring someone I trusted.” He indicated the male with a sword to Vaughn’s neck. “That’s Deverell.” His brows dipped. “Problem is, his wife is here. If I’d thought of that, I wouldn’t have—” His gaze skipped from guard to guard. “It wouldn’t have mattered. Too many of them have too much at stake.” He stared at Deverell. “He snapped when I told him, yelled the news down the wall. All of Cathis knows these towers have become tombs.”

I struggled when the guard nearest me grasped my shoulders. “We saved lives.”

Knowledge of the cure I kept to myself. That information was the best bargaining chip I had.

“Let her go.” Murdoch shoved the guards from me. “She has no part in this.”

From the corner of my eye, I saw Vaughn’s shoulders relax a fraction.

“Where are you taking him?” I demanded. “What will you do with him?”

“Shackle him. Toss him in the grotto,” one male snarled. “Let him rot there.”

Another shoved Murdoch. “I heard she’s one of them spirit walkers. Cursed folk, they are. I heard they think they can talk with the two gods. For all we know she thinks the gods told her to poison the females to spare them from the plague.” He snapped, “My sister came to the towers. I want her back. Now. She’s little more than a babe, and I trusted her to my maven. I was a fool.”

“Find Nerys, in the west tower garden. She has a list of the living and the names of the dead.” I lifted my chin. “I am not cursed. I would not poison the innocents I was sent to save.”

“Hear that?” the guard crowed. “Thinks she was sent here to save lives. Who asked you?”

I refused to answer. They were beyond listening. Negative energy spun through the crowded room. Heartbeats elevated, sweat popped, voices raised. To mention Isolde was to condemn her.

Neither Vaughn nor I uttered a word of blame.

“That’s enough.” Murdoch shoved the male into the hall, but another just as furious replaced him. “Vaughn, I’m here to see you’re treated fairly. You’ll be escorted to the grotto until the clan council is prepared to hear your case.” He put a hand on my shoulder. “Go to your room, Mana.”

“That’s right. Let her go.” The first guard leaned his sword into Vaughn. “You have no wife or family, do you, Murdoch? Easy for you to say she can walk out of here. Well, I won’t let her.”

Crystin found her voice. “Stop it. Just stop it. Mana’s potion healed me. She saved me.”

I blessed the child for giving me credit and protecting Nerys but knew it would do no good.

“Gods’ web, Deverell was right.” Another guard gaped at me. “She gave them potions.”

“Told you walkers weren’t to be trusted,” Deverell called from the hallway.

Murdoch leaned closer, voice low. “On second thought, you might be safer behind bars.”

Sick to my core, I nodded agreement. Hopes of retaining my freedom died. The wispy plan I had begun formulating for Vaughn’s escape evaporated. Rattling chains brought my head up just as cuffs were snapped on Vaughn’s wrists and ankles. He didn’t fight them. Probably thought he deserved the punishment. Or perhaps he hoped they would lash out at him and spare his mother.

Jostling the others aside, Murdoch took my arm. He led me into the hall, past Deverell.

Deverell’s expression shifted in time with his steps as he bounced on the balls of his feet.

His anticipation wouldn’t end well for Vaughn.

Murdoch and I reached the end of the hall before I heard the sound of meaty fists contacting flesh. Vaughn wheezed as the air was knocked from his lungs. Riotous laughter from the guards and Vaughn’s gasping breaths followed us around the bend. I fought Murdoch, kicked him when he wouldn’t let go. He cursed but held firm. His fingers bit into my arms until my eyes watered.

Murdoch shot me a warning glance. “Keep quiet. He’ll manage.” Once we reached the base of the south tower, he shoved a massive door that opened onto darkness. His arm lifted. “Torch.”

Moments later, fire whooshed past my ear. Flame illuminated a series of winding staircases. Brynmor had said there were hidden rooms and tunnels. The tunnel before us was a cruder effort than the Araneidae’s elaborate labyrinths. It was enormous. Damp air hit my face, and I shivered.

“It’s all right.” Murdoch put his arm around my waist to help me navigate the slick stairs. “You won’t be here long, and I’ll keep guard. You’ll both have light and somewhere dry to rest.”

“I appreciate that.” Talking drew a mouthful of moldy air down my throat. “Tell Nerys she must administer dayflower oil to the last patients. Without it, they might die before we’re freed.”

At the base of the stairs, cells ran five blocks to my right and five to my left. Dripping stalactites hung from the ceiling. Slime clung to the bars I could see. Water dropped, then puddled.

Grooves carved into stairs where water streamed from, I guessed, an underground source.

After conducting a quick inspection, Murdoch put me in the centermost cell. “This’ll do.” He held the door open, turning so I saw the curve of the stairs. “Isolde will kill them for this—”

Vaughn staggered down the stairs. His head hung loose on his neck. Blood ran from his nose and mouth. A crimson rivulet ran into his eye from a cut across his scalp. More blood drenched his side. He blinked, and our gazes locked. As I smiled in reassurance, Deverell shoved Vaughn.

“Keep your hands to yourself, Deverell,” Murdoch growled at my elbow.

“Or you’ll what?” Deverell shoved Vaughn again. “Tattle to the soon-to-be ex-maven?”

Vaughn’s foot hit a slick patch and slid from under him.

“No.” I lunged to steady him, but Murdoch corralled me.

The guards let Vaughn fall while I screamed until my voice went hoarse. His skull smashed against the lip of the steps and he spasmed. Time slowed as his body twitched then he went still.

My heart floundered, ripped from its mooring as his life thread snapped.

Fear left me shaking, lent me the strength to slam my shoulder into Murdoch’s gut. When he stumbled back, I rammed his gut again, ran until I skidded in Vaughn’s blood and slid to his side.

“These actions will have repercussions,” Murdoch vowed. “Get him off the floor. Now.” He growled when no one made a move to help. “Is this how you honor your wives and daughters?”

“He’s not breathing.” Lungs tight, I gasped for air. I was too late. He was too far gone.

“Calm yourself.” Murdoch held me upright as I slumped onto Vaughn. “All will be well.”

Another seizure rocked Vaughn beneath me. I held on to him and rode out the tremors. When they ended, I forced my head back, my gaze to Murdoch’s. “Life threads.” I tried again. “Tied.”

“Gods above.” His voice rose. “Their life threads are tied. If he dies, you’ll be accessories to the murder of an innocent female. Blind anger will have brought the wrath of the Araneidae and the Salticidae upon us.” He lifted me, held me. “Remember your actions in this moment. I will.”

“Vaughn.” I struggled against Murdoch, reaching for Vaughn, but I was too weak. “Please.”

“Shh.” His sigh shifted me. “I’ll settle you and him, then see if I can’t round up a healer.”

“There is…no one.” I squirmed to keep Vaughn in sight. “Bring my…roll. Tell Nerys…”

Pain.
So much pain. My back bowed. I bucked in Murdoch’s arms. He cursed as I fell.

My cheek slammed onto cold stone. My eyes rolled closed and pain faded into nothing.

Sensation bludgeoned me into wakefulness. I turned onto my side and touched my sore face. Cool fog triggered a simple truth. My pains were remembered now, afflicting a body my soul no longer inhabited. Grounding my soul inside my construct had never been harder, but I managed.

The gate creaked open, pouring frigid reality over my head, snapping me into awareness.

“What is this place?” a hushed voice murmured.

I surged upright, clutching my head when my eyes spun in their sockets. “Vaughn?”

“Who are you?” He sat with one knee cocked and his other leg tucked beneath him.

His aura made him glow, but his color was undefined. He remained, as usual, unreadable.

Peeking through my fingers, I was grateful when my vision cleared. “I’m Mana.”

“Pretty name.” He smiled, and it was beautiful. Carefree in a way he’d never been in life.

Dazzled by his soft expression, I fumbled for words. “I— Thank you. Do you know me?”

His brows dipped. “Don’t you know who you are? You gave me your name…”

“I meant…” I shifted to face him. “Do you remember me?”

He shrugged. “I’m afraid I don’t.”

That crack to his skull had scattered his memories faster than even Isolde’s had been strewn.

“Do you remember your name?” Names were anchors in and of themselves.

“Why don’t I ask you a question?” Another smile, this one enticed me. “Where are we?”

I debated softening the truth, but his fall was all too fresh in my mind. If I couldn’t mend his soul quickly, I would lose him. “We’re in a portion of the spiritlands unique to my imagination.”

He laughed at me. “I’m not dead.”