Page 70 of Vervain

“Evening, Death Spirit,” Serun says.

The man bows. “Lord Serun and Lady Consort. Maeve is expecting you.” He straightens, and we follow him inside.

Compared to the exterior—and Serun’s manor—the inside of Maeve’s house feels more cosy. If I ignore the spiders and webs in every corner, it reminds me of one of the fancier houses in Cherry Bloom.

The walls are mostly wood panelling, with wallpaper on one side drenching it in a warm orange floral pattern. A thick grey carpet runs through the entrance, and an array of colourful blooming flowers and leafy plants, shimmering with spider silk, hang from hooks. There is a fireplace across from the stairs leading up to the first floor, where the Death Spirit makes his way up the stairs. He pays no mind to escorting us any further, seeming more interested in the thumping coming from above.

Little feet running across wood.

I’d know the sound anywhere. Cole was a stomper, too, when he was young.

“Maeve has children?”

“Two adoptive children,” Serun answers.

My focus lands on him. “And…how did she get them?”

“As I’ve said before, most children in the Undercity had no parents when Maeve found them, and others came with their parents when they became Feeders.”

“You don’t take children after they’re born?”

He stares blankly at me, unblinking. “And where would you get an idea like that?”

Because the Bleeders at Darkovish took pregnant women to settlements…

I don’t know where to begin, so I say nothing.

“Huh…” Serun grunts.

The door near the bottom of the staircase glides open. Serun’s sister stands there, arms folded across her chest. Spiders creep along her jaw, across her red dress, and over her heeled boots. She opens her mouth to speak, and a spider zips out and vanishes up her nose. “Brother and Lady Consort, are you hungry?”

“I’m sated, but Saya may want something.” Serun nudges his head in my direction.

Maeve’s red eyes are shrewd but warm compared to Serun’s harsh, cut-glass, bleeding-red gaze. She assesses me, noting my hand clasped with Serun’s. “What would you like, Saya? I have human food. My children enjoy these fruit stick treats.”

Spiders crawl across the wall nearby, and with a hard swallow, suppressing the hunger that already grips me, I say, “I’m fine to wait. I came to talk to you about my vegodian powers, actually. Serun tells me you’ve been around my kind before.”

Her eyes soften further. “Straight to the point. Very vegodian of you.”

Serun chuckles when my hand crushes his.

Maeve pushes the double sliding doors fully open, revealing her kitchen. Plants hang from the wooden walls, and the scent of lavender and mint tickles my nose. Serun pulls the chair out from underneath the oak table in the centre of the room, and after I sit down, he stands behind me.

“I only know what I know. If I cannot answer, out of promises or the unknown, you will know it.” Maeve tenderly cups the purple blooms of vervain on the kitchen benchtop. “So, what do you want to ask?”

“How did you befriend someone like me? My mum raised me to…hate,” I say, wincing.

Maeve pinches the clusters of tiny flowers until they bruise. “I met a vegodian in Sahie. She had a child with her, no money, and needed someone caring enough to help her get home. I helped her.”

“Why?”

A spider crawls away from her fingertip and onto the web among the vervain. “I have a tender spot for children. They are our future, yet so very fragile.”

Our future…I shift in my seat, reminded of the nightwalkers and their rumour about Serun wanting me because I might be able to carry his children.

“And she wasn’t afraid of you?”

Maeve steps away from the vervain, her hands brushing against the granite benchtop. “When you are faced with no one to aid you, you become desperate. As we travelled, we acted as though she were my Feeder, and none cared to attack her. Not that they would be able to.”