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In his spider’s art, she finds a place so dear?—
In the world of his weave, her fears disappear.”
But by the last note of her song, wherein she reflected the purity of her love at me, I had managed it, and felt arolling peace settle across my soul like a thick webbed blanket.
I had done all I needed to do, everything the Great Mother might require. I had found my mate, kept her safe, made her certain of my love for her, felt her love in return, and now she would live on without me.
And just for a second, I was content to be an Arachnaea in the world, as I always should have been.
Thirty-Eight
SLOANE
As Nia’n’anslowly slumped against me, I kept singing.
I would sing until I couldn’t anymore.
“Through the electronic haze, their hearts dare to soar?—
A love story, not of fear, but one of folklore?—
In the rhythm of night, their destiny is spun?—
In a world so unlike, two hearts beat as one.”
I kept singing until my throat was raw.
If there was any piece of his spirit left, I wanted him to hear me—and maybe consider coming back.
I didn’t know how long the minotaur outside would truly wait.
I figured I’d just stay in here until he came to get me. Heknew where I was, I knew where he was, and until then, fuck it.
I would stay here with Nia’n’an, and his strangely warm corpse.
“You could’ve told me a few more things before you died, you know,” I told him, running the back of my hand beneath my nose and sniffing. “Like—any of this—what to do now.”
Was I going to be in charge of his funeral arrangements?
If I was, I was going to have some of his ashes turned into a charm, so I could always wear him around my neck.
“Should I be drinking?” I asked aloud, quietly. I was part Irish—wasn’t that what we did?
Nia’n’an hadn’t even been gone for thirty minutes and here I was, already looking for a crutch.
I sighed. Hanging out with the body of my dead spider boyfriend was admittedly creepy—but what would’ve felt worse in the moment was leaving him alone. I wasn’t ready to leave him yet, even if he hadn’t felt the same about me.
I moved around in the web a little, trying to get comfortable, eventually wriggling myself so that I was beside his torso, and underneath one of his arms. I’d get him to hold me for one more night, and then I’d figure everything out in the morning.
And as I lay there, contemplating my life and all of my decisions that had led up to this point, and thinking about how I wanted to be thereafter—howNia’n’anwould want me to be, because that was who I was going to live for—I decided I wasn’t going to try to be a pop princess anymore.
Because this shit was fuckingmetal.
I wokeup to an awful creaking sound—like there was someone opening a closing a hundred haunted house doors right beside me.
“What the fuck?”
And it was closely followed by a popping noise—like hail landing on the roof of your car.
