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When they reached their lodgings, the surrounding buildings had their lights on, but their own set of rooms showed ominous dark windows. Of course that was how they’d left it, but it was hard not to imagine potential murderers waiting behind the drawn curtains.
‘Let me check the door,’ Kai said, stepping in front of Irene. She knew that he had a minor criminal past, from his time in a more technological alternate world, so she let him get on with it. He would know how to check for tripwires, hidden switches or scratches on the lock much better than she would. She glanced up and down the road. No obvious followers, no lurking minions, no shadows visible on the rooftops.
After a few minutes of inspecting the door, lock, step, doormat and surrounding area, Kai rose from his knees. ‘It looks clean,’ he said. ‘No wires. Nothing connected to it. No chaotic residue.’
‘Good,’ Irene said. ‘Though I wouldn’t have thought it would be a bomb, anyhow. You know the Fae. A bomb would lack that personal touch. And it’d be over far too soon.’
Kai stood back from the door so that she could unlock it. ‘You did say that Lady Guantes was the efficient type, though. And you did kill her husband.’
‘Yes, well,’ Irene muttered. ‘Let’s hope that she hates me enough to want to take lots of time over it, and do it in person.’
The key turned smoothly. Nothing bad happened immediately. She waited a moment, in case there was anything hiding to jump out at her, then thrust the door open.
Through the doorway, in the light from the street ether-lamps, she and Kai could see a perfectly normal corridor. A scattering of post lay on the carpet, where it had been shoved through the letterbox, but none of it looked large enough to be dangerous.
All right, perhaps I am being paranoid.
Kai gave her a nod. They both stepped inside, and Irene raised her hand to the light switch.
Something hairy touched her fingers.
CHAPTER FIVE
Irene froze. It wasn’t a deliberate choice of action made from a careful assessment of the situation. It was an instinctive reaction to the soft touch of something thin and hairy against her fingers, something moving, and childhood memories of being told Don’t jerk your hand away, you’ll just startle it. It was very definitely something alive.
‘Kai,’ she said, and swallowed to clear her throat. ‘There’s something else in here with us.’
‘Do you think it’s light-sensitive?’ Kai demanded.
How on earth was she supposed to know? ‘Let’s hope so,’ she replied. She still didn’t want to move her fingers. She could dimly see the thing now, a large blotch of a creature about a monstrous eight inches across, its body sprawled over the light switch. But there was more than one way to deal with that. ‘Corridor-ceiling lights, turn on!’ she commanded in the Language.
The ceiling lamps flared into sudden brightness as Kai slammed the door shut, and Irene had enough time to see the creature before it scuttled back towards the coat stand, leaving her fingers free and her heart hammering.
It was a spider. Irene had nothing particularly against spiders, and had more than once been the person who had to take them out of the room and release them into the wild, when at school. But she had a very definite reaction to spiders that were over eight inches across and covered with hair. She wiped her hand on her skirt, illogically and vigorously.
‘That’s a spider,’ Kai observed unnecessarily.
‘It looked like one.’ Irene found herself backing towards him. The two of them stood together in the middle of the corridor, as far as they could get from coat stands, pictures, bookcases or other objects that might have spiders hiding behind them.
‘Do you think it’s venomous?’
Irene snorted. ‘Do you think there’s even the remotest chance it isn’t?’
‘Right. Stupid question. Do you think we can fumigate the whole house?’
‘I’m not going to sleep if there’s the slightest chance of any of them still being in here,’ Irene said firmly. ‘Which means we need to clear the place. Especially if it’s even remotely possible that they could breed, or get out into other houses.’
‘How do we clear the place?’ Kai asked, putting his finger on the problem. Irene frowned, thinking. ‘What’s the largest reasonably airtight container we have?’
‘Probably one of our suitcases,’ Kai suggested. ‘It’s not totally airtight, but there aren’t any cracks in it big enough for the spiders to get out, if they’re inside.’
‘Right. And the suitcases are in the attic, aren’t they?’
Kai took a deep breath. ‘Stay right here,’ he said and was running for the stairs before she could tell him to stop.
Technically she was rather relieved not to be running through the place, with spiders lurking in corners and ready to jump out at her – or should that be drop down on her? – at the slightest provocation. But she still felt a little guilty that he’d gone off to take the risk. Perhaps she was being overprotective.
She heard his footsteps upstairs, and the thump of the attic trapdoor swinging down from the ceiling, followed by the banging of cases and trunks being shifted round. It was far too easy to imagine huge, heaving cobwebbed nests of giant spiders in the attic. She forced herself to focus on her immediate surroundings – and look, the spider that had been crawling around by the light switch was emerging again and picking its way down the wall. There were other little twitches and barely visible movements coming from the darkest corners of the hall. The light had been so bright and welcome a moment ago. But now it merely threw possible hiding places for spiders into stark relief. And there were far too many of them. Irene was abruptly very grateful that she was in boots and trousers.
