The shadow trembled. Hissing ricocheted off the walls. Moisture dripped into the sewage, the sound repeating itself again and again and again.
“Tell me the desires of your delicious human heart,” came a lilting, childlike voice. “Tell me, Liliana Sophronia, what it is that you wish to bargain for.”
PART IV
TEMPLE OF THE SCARLET STAR
46
“What did you say?” Loren whispered, her voice breaking. “What did you just call me?”
“I called you by your name,” the spider said. “Is there another name you would like to be called by?”
It took a long time for Loren to find her voice, but the spider showed no signs of impatience. Loren imagined having all the time in the world, and having lived long enough to see several centuries, could do that to someone.
“I didn’t know,” Loren said, her voice hollow as a drum. As hollow as her heart. “I’ve never known my true name.”
“Now you know,” the Widow said. “I’d say a thank you is in order, wouldn’t you?”
“I have questions.” The Widow held so still it was unsettling, and the reek of its habitat was like oil in Loren’s throat. So thick, she could taste it. “If I am Loren—Liliana—Sophronia, then that means I am a descendant of Erasmus Sophronia.”
“You are no mere descendant with watered down blood,” the spider said. “You are his daughter. The child of the creator of the Magnum Opus himself.”
Loren was shaking her head. “That doesn’t make any sense. We saw his death certificate.” Arthur had provided Darien with photocopies of the documents for both Erasmus Sophronia and Elix Danik, and Darien had shown them to Loren. The math didn’t make sense. The dates of their deaths were long before she had been born—nearly a thousand years ago.
“I’m afraid the knowledge I am able to give you has run out.”
“Please—”
“What I can tell you is to dig deeper. If a person wants to hide badly enough, they will go to great lengths to do so. I’m sure you can relate to that.”
Loren’s mind was reeling. “He forged his death certificate?”
A beat of silence. “This is where the knowledge I am able to give you runs out,” the spider repeated.
“What would be the point to him changing the date of his death?” Loren was asking herself these questions more than she was asking the spider. The spider seemed to understand this, for she did not bother to repeat herself a third time. “Why would he want to do that?” If the results of Arthur’s DNA test came back to show that the bone powder belonged to Erasmus Sophronia, then that meant hewasdead. It was the only way people could have his bone power; if he wasn’t dead, there would’ve been no grave to dig up. Which brought her back to her question, and it made her wonder if someone else had changed the date on his death certificate.
Again, she was faced with that same question: why would someone want to do that?
“You’ve come to strike a bargain with me,” the Widow said. “I am thirsting to know what you would like to offer. Speak, child. Tell me your wishes.”
There was a sharp tug on Loren’s heart as she recalled the reason why she was here. “I lost someone I love.”
“You speak of your pet.”
“He wasn’t a pet,” Loren said, her throat choking up. “He was my friend.”
The Widow regarded her. “And you would like this friend of yours to come back from the dead.”
“Yes,” Loren croaked. “Yes, I would like that very much.”
The spider weighed the request. Loren saw the creature’s answer coming long before it was given. Still, it hit her like a punch to the stomach. “I’m afraid—”
“Please,”Loren whispered. “I’ll give you anything you want. What is your asking price? There must be something.”
The Widow considered.Drip, drip, drip,went the moisture. Finally, the Widow said, “Usually, there is something. But most of my visitors are in far more favorable circumstances than you.”
“What would be your price,” Loren bit out, “if I was in a morefavorablecircumstance?”
