Page 54 of Bound By Roses

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 justa 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 toget 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.

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