Page 6 of Guarded By the Spider

That was half the problem with Threadstone, or so I’d been told—between so many groups hollowing it out over the years, plus the locally inclement weather eroding it away, there were thousands of potentially entirely separate cave entrances to take. Some of them only led a mere ten feet into the rockface, but others might go all the way to the core, along perilous cliffs with steep and deadly drops. Periodically, ingenious men would get the urge to conquer the location, using whatever advances they’d created in climbing technology, but some partof the caves would always get the better of them. They’d perish because of a rock fall, a cave-river drowning, or by one of the treacherous monsters that were still rumored to live inside.

Like those of my own kind.

I stood in the growing shadows of the trees, trying to figure out which ascent would be most fruitful. I knew the orcs had taken the wider, lower entrances, twice, all the better to head in en masse, and I hadn’t seen them ditch any crampons or climbing gear in either video from their body cams.

So I thought a different approach would be best. I used my hind legs to cover my warning colorations with dirt and to dull my shell so that I’d no longer be shiny, and waited for full night.

Once it was dark and moonless out, I made my way up to the wall and started climbing. Even though I was heavy, it was easy for me to manage with my claws. Millennia of erosion had left heavy grooves across the stone. I spotted myself in case I were to fall, so that thick web ropes would catch me.

And I realized the whole way as I traversed the cliff-face that I was waiting forsomething.

It felt like I was holding my breath, although that was nearly impossible for my kind—and I knew what I was yearning for: a reason to hope.

I was tired. I had moved so far beyond hunger food seemed to have no value to me anymore. I only needed the lightest lapping of dew to keep me hydrated.

Everything in me was shutting down, the same as I hadknown in my apartment, the same as I had warned Royce, and yet here I was, still trying to find a reason to go on.

No one would blame me if I did not accomplish this frankly foolish task, and if I died here, no one would know—my corpse would just be another body that the caves had claimed.

And yet . . .

A cave I was near exhaled air with the changing of the temperatures as night got cooler and it brushed me like a kiss.

I closed my eyes, turning the moment into a full body experience, as sensitive little hairs at my joints and on my chest shivered, almost in anticipation.

I inhaled the breath of my true home...and for the first time in weeks—no, years—no, maybe myentire life—I felt alive.

Because I had scented . . . something.

Something good.

Somethingwarm-food-joy-home-comfort-good—and it made my slowing heart flutter in my chest.

I turned towards that particular cave’s entrance and pulled myself inside, where a scent I could only describe as the essence of sheer belonging got stronger.

I was normally the calmest of any crew I worked with—I was both thorough and meticulous as befit my spider’s half. I had meted out and also faced death with equanimity, innumerable times before.

But now, for the first time in my life, I was wracked with emotions.

There was another Arachnaea here.

One thatbelongedto me—and I to her.

I stood for a moment, torn between responsibilities. I needed to look for this Sloane-human for Royce, and the honor of the Monster Security Agency—but the need to chase my mate down was primal. The almost electricity-like tension currently running up and down my legs, the drive I had to grasp her, the sudden need I had to make her mine—the urges were so strong I actually took a step back. I had never been in a mating lock before, and yet I knew what I would do when I found her with absolute certainty. My last pair would emerge and then?—

I put a hand against the nearest stone wall and breathed deeply, hoping to cool myself, but each new breath was more intoxicating than the last.

I owed Royce for saving my life on more than one occasion, but I would no longer be able to live it if I did not track the source of this scent down. And seeing as I had no idea where inside Threadstone Sloane actually was, nor did anyone else outside of it for that matter, my conscience was relatively clear.

Plus, there was always the chance I could findmymate, createourbond, then finish the job.

For allIknew, my Arachnaea could be around the next corner.

I trusted in my ability to sense my surroundings in the dark and headed into the cave system, following her scent like a thread.

Five

NIA’N’AN

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