“There never really is a spider, is there?” Liz said. “I mean, there’s nothing to that story. Whether or not a poison works has nothing to do with seeing the source, right?”
“Right. The spider is only in their mind. Like Gerald’s jealousy.”
“But the web can cover a lot of ground,” Liz said sadly.
“And a lot of time.”
“You’re mixing your metaphors,” I pointed out. “Yeah, well, your royal roots are showing.”
“Not royal.”
“I’m just a sword jockey with a big vocabulary.”
“Not only a vocabulary,” she said with a wink. “Want to find an inn and do some more interrogating?”
“You bet. I’ve got tons of secrets.”
We continued on, laughing and enjoying each other’s company. It was a beautiful day, and the sun shone through the trees like the bright promise of a future. It shone for Mahnoma and Altura, too: a joint future, inextricably linked, as they should have been all along. No spiders in anyone’s cups anymore.
BOOKS BY ALEX BLEDSOE
The Girls with Games of Blood
The Sword-Edged Blonde
Burn Me Deadly
Dark Jenny
Wake of the Bloody Angel