“So you know what it is?” I move to stand beside him. “What’s causing the disturbances?”
He turns those multiple yellow eyes to me. “I have suspicions. But confirming them will be dangerous.”
“More dangerous than you being arrested for sabotage?” I counter.
A sound escapes him, something between a sigh and a chittering noise. “Fair point.”
“Riven.” I reach out and place my hand on one of his arms. The exoskeleton is smooth beneath my fingers. “We have maybe three days before Dale shows up with a warrant. I need to know what we’re dealing with.”
He’s quiet for a long moment, his eyes studying me with a deep intensity.
“Very well,” he finally says. “But you will follow my instructions exactly. No improvising. No heroics.” He leans down until his face is level with mine, mandibles flexing slightly. “This isn’t a delivery route you can optimize, June. This is survival.”
I swallow hard but meet his gaze steadily. “Understood. So what’s the plan?”
“First,” Riven says, straightening to his full height, “I need to show you something in my workshop. Then we prepare.”
As I follow him through the house, I can’t help but think that three days isn’t much time to solve a decade-old mystery and clear the name of a creature most humans would run screaming from. But then again, I’ve never been one to back down from a logistical challenge.
I just hope Riven has a very, very good plan.
Because for once in my life, I’m drawing a blank.
Chapter 18
Roots of the Problem
Riven
There are exactly three thingsI’ve learned about human females from my extensive research of reality television: they enjoy elaborate displays of affection, they constantly require verbal reassurance, and they are incapable of traversing rough terrain without falling.
June, as with most things, proves to be the exception, but I’m not taking my chances considering who we’re going up against.
“Are you sure this isn’t weird?” she asks, adjusting herself on the custom saddle strapped across the back of my thorax. The sun has barely begun to peek over the eastern ridge as we prepare to depart.
“Weird would be you attempting to hike twenty miles of mountain terrain before noon,” I reply, flexing my legs experimentally to ensure the saddle’s stability. “Besides, I made this equipment for a reason.”
“Yeah, about that.” She leans forward, her breath warm against my sensitive neck plates. “You just happened to have a human-sized saddle lying around?”
If my exoskeleton could flush, it would. “I had… anticipated recreational activities involving forest canopy traversal.”
“Recreational—” She stops, and I can practically feel the moment understanding dawns. “Oh my god. You made this so we could have sex while swinging through trees like Tarzan.”
“I’m unfamiliar with this Tarzan, but your assessment is not entirely inaccurate.”
Her laughter vibrates against my back, sending pleasant tingles through my nervous system. “You’re unbelievable. Also, that’s the hottest thing I’ve ever heard.”
I make a mental note: June appreciates sexual innovation. The reality shows got something right after all.
“Are you secure?” I ask, deliberately changing the subject before my body can react inappropriately to her proximity. The mission requires focus.
“As secure as I’ll ever be on the back of an enormous spider monster,” she says, but her hands settle confidently on the specialized grips I designed. “Let’s go.”
Without further warning, I launch us forward.
The sensation of carrying June is unlike anything I’ve experienced in my eighty years of solitude. Her weight is negligible—I could carry five of her without strain—but herpresence changes everything about how I move. I’m acutely aware of every shift in her body, every tiny gasp as we navigate terrain that would be impassable to humans.
I scale a nearly vertical rock face, my specialized limbs finding purchase in microscopic crevices. June’s heart rate spikes as her thighs tighten around me.
