Midnight's Son (Darkling Mage 5)
“But you must know, Dustin. The consequences of patronage are dire, and permanent. If you wear the Crown of Stars, then you will belong to the night forever, your soul surrendered wholly to the entity that accepts your offer.”
“That doesn’t matter,” I said quietly. “I’m nothing, Carver. Nothing, compared to the grand scale of the universe. I’m just a bag of meat that got lucky. A cockroach, like Hecate always said. Just a speck of dust. But I can still help. I can still matter.”
I’m dust, I thought. But I could still change the world, shift the trajectory of the cosmos, away from chaos and ultimately, towards survival. Preservation.
I’m Dust, I thought, and this was my destiny.
Chapter 16
With Carver’s blessing I went boldly into the night, at least as boldly as someone hiding behind a stranger’s face and creeping in darkness could go. I wasn’t going to risk staying away from the Boneyard for longer than necessary, so I shadowstepped in a single bound, all the way from home to Silk Road.
It was Valero’s shopping district, the location of the entrance to the Black Market, the arcane underground’s, well, black market, and to a tether that belonged to a trio of very important entities. If I slid my way into a tight alley, right between two stores owned by some very high-end luxury brands, I could get in touch with the Sisters, three entities with a knack for seeking and providing information.
The trouble was the price they commanded. I figured this time I would make my way in and actually ask what they wanted as an offering. Having Carver’s support meant that he might be willing to shell out some cash to track down the very rare and very expensive reagents the Sisters typically demanded, like spun gold, and lace crafted by a woman gone blind.
I looked to either side of me, checking that I was as inconspicuous as could be. Not that it mattered much. After the stores closed, Silk Road was pretty devoid of shoppers and pedestrians, anyway. All I had left for company were the pale glow of streetlights and the faint rush of an evening breeze as it blew through the district’s colonnade of trees.
“Right,” I said to myself softly, keeping my backpack, and therefore Vanitas close to my body. “Here we go.”
I didn’t go, still hesitating, remembering the stifling fear and suffocation I experienced the last time I squeezed into the alley to speak to the Sisters. But this was about the Eldest, and the fate of humanity, I told myself. Don’t be such a little chicken.
“Right,” I murmured again, sucking my breath in, making myself as physically small as possibly so I’d fit into the alley. I turned sideways, took one step to the left – then launched straight up into the air.
I yelped, panicking, as something tugged on my leg and whipped me upside down. The world went spinning as I dangled in place, as more of a strange, invisible rope worked its way around my ankles, then my knees, and all the way up to my elbows. Within seconds I’d been hog-tied and wrapped in fine, strong threads that were too dangerously close to my neck. They were sticky, too.
“Okay,” I said to the Sisters. “I’m sorry I didn’t come with an offering. I promise I’ll make it up to you. What do you ladies want? Just put me down and I’ll go get it.”
Silence. I wriggled, as best as I could, barely making any headway. I could jiggle around as much as I wanted to – I wasn’t going anywhere. The blood was rushing to my head, too.
“Any minute now,” I said. “Please? Hello?”
Something wasn’t right about this, and I was liking it less and less by the second. I knew that my backpack was bundled up nice and tight, too. No way I could tip Vanitas out and get him to cut me free. Ah, but the shadows. I looked around, and up at my feet.
It was risky, but really my only option. I could call on the Dark Room to send blades to cut the ropes binding my feet. I would, of course, fall right on my head and potentially break it open, but if I timed it right, I could fall into the shadows instead, shadowstepping into the Dark Room’s safety, and –
What the hell was that?
As I struggled and writhed, something as thick and as sharp as a spearpoint nudged my ribs. I strained my neck to look down at the weapon poking me. Wait. That wasn’t a spear. It was a leg: spiny, black, and bristled. A huge spider’s leg.
Oh. Uh-oh.
“Hello, sweetling. It has been a while.”
I blinked, and there she was, hanging upside down before me, which is to say, right side up from my perspective. It was Arachne, the queen of spiders, once the world’s greatest weaver, now one of the world’s richest sources of rare and hidden knowledge. Which clearly didn’t bode well for me.
“Oh. Hello, Arachne.”
“Dustin Graves,” she began to say. Arachne blinked all eight of her eyes, the simple biological act of it somehow filling me with so much dread. “Do you remember our bargain from some time ago? From a time, oh, before you decided that you valued the wisdom of the Sisters over the counsel of your good friend Arachne?”
“I – hmm, let me think.” I was fighting to keep my voice calm, not to panic in spite of the rush of blood to my brain – and in spite of the fact that I was seconds away from being envenomated by a spider-woman the size of a small truck. “It had to do with payment, didn’t it? That you were going to collect on your services from then on, since the last favor you did for me.”
“Very good.” Arachne smiled, the jade green of her teeth glinting in the streetlight. “Then you remember.” She frowned, and the world seemed darker. “Then you also understand how I must feel about this. You went to the Sisters for their aid, once. You paid their price. Now you seek them again, instead of Arachne. You spurned me twice, sweetling.” She tilted her head, her eyes glinting with menace. “Now what has poor Arachne done to deserve such poor treatment?”
“Okay,” I blurted. “I’ll level with you. I was afraid of the exact price you’d request. It was a big ask, okay?” I had to choose my next words very carefully. Sure, entities had less power outside of their domiciles, but spiders lurked everywhere in the world. Arachne didn’t need to expend much effort to summon a few hundred of them to bite me, fill me with their venom, maybe even eat me from the inside. Jesus, why do I do this to myself? “I know that your children do excellent work, finding the information you request, but I needed answers, and fast.”
All eight of Arachne’s eyes narrowed, scrutinizing me with their cold, insect intellect. “Very well,” she said.
The strand of spider silk binding my feet snapped. I crashed to the ground, my restraints loosening enough to let me reach for the back of my head and rub it gingerly. I looked up, pouting at Arachne, who was still burning holes through the back of my skull with a glare that dripped with displeasure.