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She was standing in the centre of her bed, face pale as she cried, “There’s a huge spider!”
I froze, then sagged in relief as I tried to catch my breath. “What the fuck, Beryl.”
Her face turned bright pink. “I didn’t mean to scream. It shocked me because it—” She shuddered. “—it ran across the floor when I came in here and now I don’t know where it is.”
Shoving my hair back from my face, I looked around. “How big is it?”
She shuddered again, wrapping her arms around herself and not moving from the bed. “Fucking massive, Greid. I won’t be able to sleep in here if we can’t find it.”
“I’ll find it.” I crossed the room to her bed and got down on my knees to peer underneath at the narrow strip between the frame and the floor.
“Aren’t you scared of spiders?” Beryl asked from above.
My mouth twitched. “No, I’m not scared of spiders. I can’t imagine many demiurgus are, given our natural inclination for being underground. Around dirt and nature and stuff. Lots of insects and arachnids underground and in the dirt.”
“I’m fine with everything else,” she blurted a touch defensively. “Like beetles and ants and crickets and stuff. It’s just spiders. I hated working in the underground vineyard at the compound because there was a kind that liked to make their webs in the nightberry vines.”
Not seeing the spider under the bed, I straightened up to grin at her. “Did you worry they’d make teeny swords out of the thorns? Little knightberry spiders. Get it? Knight berry. Like an old-timey knight.”
She glared at me. “Keep making fun of me, buddy, and we’ll see what happens.”
“I’m just saying, if this spider isn’t the size of my fist, you’re going to lose major cool points.” I knee-walked over to the dresser to peer underneath it. “What else are you scared of?”
“What, so you can make fun of me more?” she grumbled.
“I mean, yeah. Depends on what it is, but yes.”
She chuckled, but it still sounded a little tense as she hovered on the bed. “Not much, I don’t think. Clowns kind of freak me out. The one birthday party I went to as a kid when I was, like, six had a clown. He scared me then.”
“God, yeah, clowns are messed up.” I shuffled over to the armchair to look behind it. “I don’t really like heights. Like, I’m okay being in my workshop or in a tall building as long as I don’t look out the windows, but I could never visit the Grand Canyon or whatever.”
“I’m okay with heights.”
Of course she was. She’d had to live up that big hill with the sex cult.
“And cats freak me out,” I admitted, hearing her chuckle.
“Really? I think cats are cute.”
I looked over at her with a dry expression. “Sure, they look cute. It’s all part of their evil plan. Look all cute and soft so unwitting people let them into their homes, and then what do they do? Moan constantly for food. Scratch up all your furniture. Kill poor, innocent little bugs and mice. Why are they such assholes? They literally have the best life ever. They just eat and sleep. No jobs, no taxes, no need to think beyond where their next comfy sleeping spot is.”
Beryl laughed. “Okay, fine, we won’t get a cat.”
We both went still as the words hung in the air, before Beryl cleared her throat awkwardly and I ducked my head to keep looking for the spider.
“Um, how about dogs?” she asked, voice tinged with embarrassment.
“I love dogs,” I said quickly, not wanting her to be embarrassed and trying not to think too hard about what her words meant. The implication of them. “Dogs are the best. They just love you unconditionally. They’re special.”
“How come you don’t have one then?”
“Too lazy to walk it every day.” Plus Agma had wanted a cat and hated dogs.
I heard the affectionate smile in Beryl’s voice as she said, “You’re basically just a giant puppy dog yourself.”
“I will choose to take that as a compliment.” I sat back on my heels and looked around the room. “I can’t find it, Beryl. Maybe it got out when I came in.”
“No, it’s still in here,” she said immediately. “I can feel it. Waiting.”
