That was quite a feat on its own, given that Nel was half-submerged a short way away from the edge. An altar either floated on top of the water or was some sort of pillar sticking out. Floating above an incense burner were two strands of hair. One wavy brown hair and one long blond hair.
Eva wrinkled her nose as the scent of frankincense wafted over. She ignored it as she walked up alongside Genoa.
The older woman didn’t so much as twitch in her direction. She kept her eyes glued firmly on Nel. Her face was calm, but Eva could see her heart beating in a manner very reminiscent of nervousness.
Carlos stood at Genoa’s side. He was far less composed. His hands shook as they constantly fiddled with his glasses.
Ylva and the other nun–Alicia, if Eva caught her name correctly–stood a few paces to the side. Ylva was watching Nel with nearly the same intensity as Genoa, though her heart wasn’t in it quite so much.
The only other person on the beach was Devon. Zoe went and stood by him for whatever reason. He–
Eva frowned. Her master had been back at the women’s ward, sleeping.
It took a double take to realize that the man standing to Zoe’s side was a slightly scragglier looking Wayne Lurcher.
Looking at him again, it was obvious. His hair was far shorter and his beard was less of a beard and more stubble. The dead giveaway was that he was wearing a suit rather than Devon’s ragged trench coat.
Eva moved up next to him. “You’re looking good,” she said.
He turned his head and gave her a
Eva gave him a look right back. Surely he wasn’t blaming her for being injured. She was about to open her mouth and say as much when he opened his first.
“You’re awake.”
“I am.”
“Try not to cause so much trouble next time.”
Eva humphed and walked away. “I’ll show you trouble,” she muttered under her breath, prompting a short laugh from Arachne. “Try to be nice to a guy and–”
“I’ve found them,” Nel half shouted. “Or Juliana at least. Shalise isn’t anywhere around her. Something else is though.”
Genoa stepped forwards, sinking her boots into the water. “What is it?”
“I don’t–a demon, I guess,” Nel said while waving an arm.
It was then that Eva noticed her other arm. Or, more accurately, the shriveled husk that was in place of her other arm. Looking through her blood sight, Eva saw the problem immediately.
She had no eyes in that arm.
Nel’s extra eyes did something strange to her body. A full-sized eyeball wouldn’t fit in the palm of her hand even if all the bones were removed. Yet she clearly had one on her good hand. It pushed her meat around like there was more space than actually existed.
Without the eyeballs in her arm, whatever magic there was had broken and left the pushed aside meat… well, pushed aside and useless.
Eva couldn’t begin to guess how her arm wasn’t a rotted husk. The blood was barely making it to her fingers as it was.
Shaking her head, Eva tried to catch up with the conversation.
Genoa jumped into the water, waist deep in it alongside Nel, and gripped one of her shoulders. “They’re doing what?”
— — —
Juliana left the tea in her mouth for a moment, tasting it.
It wasn’t that bad. Sweet, but not overpowering. Unfortunately, it was a familiar sweetness. The black honey that had made it into her mouth tasted the same.
She would have spit it back into the cup, but the demon was watching her closely.
Too close.
Juliana swallowed the tiny mouthful and reset the cup on its tray. Leaning away from the overbearing demon, she said, “I appreciate the hospitality–”
“Oh my dear, you have yet to see the breadth of my hospitality.”
His hand stretched with the strings dragging it along. As soon as his hand touched Juliana’s shoulder, she found herself sitting on a stone bench.
A rather comfortable stone bench.
It was one of many, all seated in a half-circle around a lower central platform. An amphitheater. Almost the same as the one at Brakket.
The only real change was the pitch black sky with the eye-like moon.
That and the fact that all the spare seats were occupied by the same statues of golden bees as the ones occupying the theater seats. Every one of them sat in a unique pose. She had a feeling that if she examined them a little closer, each bee would be different from the next.
Juliana jumped to her feet as two people walked out on the stage. “Mom! Arachne? Why–how–”
Juliana’s voice caught in her throat as her mother waved and said, “hello.”
Two lines ran up from her chin to the corners of her lips as her jaw dropped straight down. Her face was like stiff plastic. Five thin strings attached to her fingers glinted off the moonlight. Arachne was similarly strung up, though she looked more normal. Or it was harder to tell the difference between puppet-Arachne and the real thing. The ball joints on her limbs blended in a lot better than the ones on her mother.
