Karmash opened his mouth to answer and closed it. Spider perched on the edge of the table wreck and looked at him. Karmash’s skin smelled of fear. It shuddered in his eyes, broke through in the clenched fingers of his big hands, showed itself in the way he bent his knees lightly, ready to run. Spider studied that fear and drank it in. It tasted sweet like a well-aged wine.
“Let’s go over this again,” Spider said, pronouncing the words with a glass-sharp clarity in that patient, slow tone one used with a disobedient child or a woman one desired to infuriate. “Which part of my instructions wasn’t clear to you?”
Karmash swallowed. “All parts were clear, m’lord.”
“They mustn’t have been, since your actions didn’t match my words. A miscommunication has occurred. Let’s pin it down. Reiterate what I ordered you to do.”
Spider stared at Karmash, hard, unblinking. Their gazes locked, and Spider saw terror wash away any semblance of thought from Karmash’s eyes. The big man snapped into panicked stiffness. Karmash opened his mouth. No sound came. Sweat broke at his hairline and slid across pallid skin to the shield of white bushy eyebrows.
“Go ahead,” Spider said.
Karmash strained and forced a small word from his mouth. “You …”
“I can’t hear you.”
Karmash glanced away, muscles knotted along his jaw. He blinked rapidly, rigid as a board. Spider studied his neck, imagined himself reaching out, grasping the throat in the steel hold of his hand, crushing the wind-pipe until the cartilage popped with a light crunch under his fingers.
Karmash tried again. “You told me …”
“Yes?”
The voice caught in the big man’s throat. He stared at the floor, his eyes wide and almost black from the dilated pupils.
Too easy. Cringe, Karmash. Cringe and submit.
Karmash swayed a little. His nostrils didn’t flutter—he had forgotten to breathe. Another dozen heartbeats and he would faint. Spider toyed with the idea of bringing him to that point and decided against it with some regret. Too much trouble to wait for Karmash to come to.
“How long will you keep me waiting?” He let his tone and his stare ease just a fraction.
A fraction was enough. Karmash’s knees trembled. His nostrils flared, drawing the air in a frenzied rhythm, and Karmash shuddered, every nerve and muscle shaking. For a moment he looked limp like a rag doll, ready to come apart.
Spider waited. The second stage of fear, the release. Petrify the body in a panicked freeze, and the mind locked as well, cycling on the same thought. Release the body, and logic came back with ready fluidity. It was an animal response, a defensive mechanism of Mother Nature, who realized that given a chance, her bastard children would think themselves into the ground, so she freed them of the handicapping burden of their minds in times of imminent danger. At the core, we’re but animals, Spider thought. Come on, Karmash. Obey and don’t make me bare my teeth and roll you on your back again. I enjoy it entirely too much for my own good.
“You told me to find the girl,” Karmash’s voice came in a shaky gush.
“And what did you do?”
“I sent Lavern to fetch her.”
Spider put the fingers of his hands together, making a tent, and touched his index fingers to his lips, as if thinking. “So let me see if I got this right. I told you to find the girl, and you sent the dumbest, the most contumacious hunter we have. A hunter who has been twisted by his upgrades to the point of becoming fond of human flesh. Is that right?”
“Yes.”
“Suppose he did somehow manage to disarm Cerise Mar, although how he would accomplish this escapes me. Suppose he did apprehend her. What made you think that he would deliver her safe and healthy instead of dropping her withered husk on my doorstep?”
“I thought …” Karmash hesitated.
“No, please continue. I’m extremely interested in your thought process.”
“I thought Lavern would be sufficient, m’lord, since she was only a civilian. I told him it was his chance to rehabilitate himself. I was wrong.”
Spider closed his eyes and let out a deep cleansing sigh. Only a civilian. Of course.
“M’lord …”
Spider raised his hand. “Shhh. Don’t talk now.”
Karmash’s size had gotten away from him again. Occasionally the man’s obsession with his own strength cut off the flow of air to his brain. His only saving grace was that at the moment Spider had nobody to replace him.
“Let me explain something to you,” Spider said, slowly, with gravity, making sure every word was understood. “I hate the swamp. I hate the way it looks. I hate the way it smells. It repulses me. I’m forced into inactivity until John finishes fusing Genevieve, and I sit here, restless and bored, while my best slayer is compulsively braiding rush baskets on my doorstep, because unless she occupies herself with something intricate, she might snap and slaughter the lot of us.”
Spider smiled, baring his teeth. “And you, whether by ignorance, ineptitude, or design, seem determined to keep me here longer than necessary through botching up tasks I give you. Don’t give me an excuse to take an interest in you, Karmash. Don’t make yourself the thing I choose to shrug off my boredom. You won’t like it.”
Karmash’s eyes widened.
“That’s not an order,” Spider said. “Just a bit of friendly advice.” He stood up and walked to the large bookcase set against the back wall. A mismatched assortment of books filled the shelves, some tall, some short. He ran his fingers along the tattered spines and pulled out a thick leather volume. Gilded golden letters curved across the front page: The Empire: The Third Invasion.
He handed it to Karmash. “I realize that you weren’t present during the apprehension of the Mars. I wish to correct that oversight. Read this. It will give you a basic understanding of what Cerise Mar is and the casualties we can expect when dealing with her. And this is an order.”
Karmash’s long fingers closed about the book. Spider held on to his end, fixed Karmash with a stare, and let go.
“I wish you had seen it,” he said. “Gustave Mar was truly a sight to behold.”
“I’m sorry I missed it, m’lord.”
They had missed the one opportunity to grab Cerise, and she was likely gone behind the shield of warding spells that guarded her family house. Still, a chance that she would leave the compound for some reason existed, and his people had to have something to do. Spider nodded toward the map on the wall, and Karmash obediently turned to it.
“There is a small road running southeast from the Mar compound.”
“The White Blossom Trail, m’lord?”
“It’s the only land route from the Rathole to the town. The rest, as you can see, is swamp. I want you to put Vur and Embelys right there. They do nothing but watch. If she leaves the compound, one must follow, the other must report in.”
“Yes, m’lord.”
“No mistakes this time.”
“Yes, m’lord.”
“You may go.”
Karmash shifted from foot to foot. “Do you wish me to send a retrieval team to find Lavern’s body?”
“No. I’ll go myself. I think the fresh air would do me good.”
Karmash fled.
Spider sighed. Perhaps the girl would make a mistake. He hoped so. He wanted to sit her down and try to figure out how her mind worked. She would make a fascinating conversationalist.
Spider walked over to the door and opened it. Veisan dropped the load of baskets she was carrying and stood at attention, her collection of rolled blue-gray locks spilling onto her shoulders like a nest of thin snakes.
“Have the wall repaired. I’ll need a new table, too.” A pang of regret stung him—it had been a very nice table.
“Yes, m’lord.” Her lapis lazuli eyes watched him from a face the color of raw meat.
“And I’m sorry about the baskets. You can continue weaving. I was tired and under a lot of stress.”
“Thank you, m’lord.”
He nodded and walked past her.