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My father and I stayed in the meeting hall. Guard duty. Having the freak a wall away wasn’t comforting, but I was glad for the excuse not to be out in the fields. Corn harvest was in full sway. Just thinking about it, I could feel the itchy sweat that came from brushing against the sharp leaves on the cornstalks.
An hour into it, my father received a message. Worry creased his brow.
“What is it?” I asked. “Sam?”
“I wish. But no. Fortitude sent a supply ship.”
That grabbed my attention. Ships came rarely, maybe once every two years. And they always came with little notice. “How long until it arrives?”
“Tomorrow.” He put on his jacket. “Sorry, Xander. I must go and make sure the landing site is in order. Stay here. Our guest will need some more food. Don’t worry, I am confident he is no threat. Just don’t threaten him like Sam did.”
Yippee. The corn fields sounded more appealing right then.
“Why not just let him go? How did you even capture him in the first place?”
“We didn’t capture him.”
“What?”
“It was dark. Your mother was in a fit, worrying that you would end up like Alana. Reese and I were about to go look for you. We opened the door and there you were on the ground. I thought a spider had you, but it was him.” My father nodded to the storeroom. “He was wearing pieces of spider carapace on his body and a spider head over his own. Almost like armor and a helmet. Reese almost took the shot with his rifle, but then the spider stood on two legs, its only legs. He took off the helmet. Believe me, it was a shock to see another human on this planet.”
“I bet.” Erimia was supposed to be uninhabited by humans. Besides us and the Thurns. “Why’s he here though?”
My father shrugged. “We expected him to run off. Although he avoided any physical contact, he stuck around. The closer to sunrise, the more agitated he became. He clicked and chittered from time to time, waving his hands around and wiggling his fingers. I figured he was trying to communicate. At that time we didn’t know he understood us. It was clear the light made him nervous, but that he wasn’t leaving. Reese thought of the storeroom and led him here.”
“Why? Why keep him around? He seems more spider than human.”
“I must admit,” said my father, “I am curious about his origin. I hope to understand it if he is willing let us.”
I shook my head. “I don’t understand why. Nothing good comes from spiders.”
“We still have much to learn about our home, Xander. Lie down, get some rest.”
I wanted to argue that I was fine, but I didn’t even have the energy for that. I locked the metal storeroom door with a deadbolt and found some old blankets to make a pad on the hard floor. As exhausted as I felt, I should have fallen asleep as soon as I lay down.
My mind had other plans.
What was Sam going to do at the Thurns? He had no reason to lie about the light, so why then did Marigold have it? It had something to do with her brothers. I trusted the freak in the storeroom more than I did Deek or Boyd. Those two would have just left me after kicking me in the face. So why did the freak save me? Why did he kick me and then save me? What was his connection with the spiders? They had to be allied somehow or he had some control over them. Nobody could have fought off a dozen spiders and carried an unconscious person at the same time.
The chain of thoughts rolled on with no perceivable end. Eventually I slipped into sleep. When I awoke, it was darker, not night, but evening. My mouth was dry and I was starving. The first water bladder I grabbed had some more of Mom’s tepid bark tea in it. Not a pleasant surprise. Luckily the other bladder contained plain water. I sat against the storeroom door and ate oat cakes and roast crelix. I was into my second crelix when scratching from the other side of the metal door startled me.
Mr. Spider, I was tired of calling him freak, probably needed a potty break. With a small one-handed scythe we used for harvesting in one hand I pounded on the door with the other. “I am going to open the door. Don’t try anything.”
After counting to ten, I pulled the bolt and pushed open the door. The light from the hall cut a path through the middle of the dark storeroom. Somewhere on either side of the light Mr. Spider was watching me. Standing in the doorway, I cursed myself for not keeping a light, even that problematic palm light, anything to illuminate dark parts of the room.
The roast crelix my father left was gone. One oat cake had a bite out of it, the other two remained untouched. That annoyed me.
“My mother made those cakes for you. I suggest you eat them.”
“Too dry.” The raspy voice sounded only a few feet away.
“Maybe I should piss on them. How about that?”
“Too salty.”
I blinked hard. “Was that a joke?”
A staccato chirp answered.
“What does that mean?”
“Laugh.”
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I blinked again. “Wait. That’s laughing? Spiders laugh?”
“Yes.”
Images of laughing spiders dismembering Alana stomped through my mind. “Well. Stop. It’s freaking me out.”
“Sorry.” This time the voice was closer.
I held up the scythe. “Stay back.” I threw two more roast crelix into the room. “There. Stop with the scritchy-scratchy, alright?”
“Water. Please.”
“You have manners now?” He didn’t respond. “Whatever.” I tossed the bladder with the tea in it at the spot I’d last heard him at. Slowly a pale hand reached out and grabbed it and withdrew into the shadows.
“Not water. Good. Thank you.”
I cringed and moved to leave, but stopped. “I don’t know what you are playing at. Trying to be funny and nice. But spiders set traps. And you aren’t catching me again.” I backed out of the storeroom and began to shut the door.
“You are welcome.”
I flung the door open. “Excuse me? What exactly am I welcome for?”
“Saved your life.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “You saved my life?”
“Yes.”
I clinched my fist around the scythe handle, fighting to keep my voice level. “And what about stomping my face? That a spider way to save a life?”
“You ran.”
“Yes I did. I didn’t want your buddies to kill me.”
“No kill you. Not killers. You charged them. You scare them. I stop you before they hurt you. Defend themselves.”
“Right.” I shook my head. “Spiders are scared of me. You lie.”
“No lie. Spiders not killers.”
“Tell that to Alana.”
“Who is that?”
“Your dinner from the night before. That’s who.”
“Spiders do not eat human.”
“That’s it! I’m sick of this. Stop talking like a child. Come out here. I want you to look me in the face and tell me that spiders aren’t killers. Tell me that the things I saw didn’t happen.” I stomped into the storeroom. “Come out here.”
“Put down weapon.”
“Fat chance. You can see me. I can’t see you. Come out first.”
I don’t know what I was expecting. Some misshapen freak of nature, a putrid, dirty monster. But what stepped out into the light was a normal human, albeit unkempt. A little dusty, but not dirty. His naked skin, for he was naked except for some tattered cloth about his waist, was so pale that he almost glowed. His lean muscles twitched as if trying to flee the light. He stood a few paces away, hands at his side, his head hung down, light brown hair shrouding his features.
He raised his bearded, shaggy face to look at me. I wanted his eyes to be black and harsh, like a spider, but they were green and curious.
He was young, only a bit older than me. And he was taller than me. I stepped back, my bravado waning.
He cocked his head to the side and brushed one hand over the top of the other.
“Stop that. What are you doing?”
His hands stopped. “Sorry. Hands move to show no harm.” He craned his neck forward, looking me in the eyes, his head tilted. “I did not kill this Alana. My spiders not kill her.”
“Okay. You said it. Stop looking at me like that. Man, you are a freak.”
“Not freak. Roi.”
I shook my head and my finger at him. “What?”
“I am Roi. You are Xander.”
“Okay. Roi.” This was entirely too weird for me. “I am going to shut the door now,” I said and slowly backed up to the door.
“No. Stay. Help.”
“Why do you talk like that? It’s so annoying. Help with what? Me help you, or you help me?”
“Both.”
I had no clue what Roi meant, but before I could ask, I heard Marigold calling from outside. “Xander!” she cried, “Xander!” She sounded upset, even scared.
I ran out the storeroom, flinging the door shut behind me. I burst out of the meeting hall and into the night, almost colliding into Marigold.
“Marigold? What are you doing here? What’s wrong?”
She grabbed my arms. Almost collapsing into me. She looked exhausted. Her hands were bloody. “It’s all wrong!” she sobbed, “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.”
“What happened? Are you hurt?” Killer spiders and other worst-case scenarios flashed through my mind. I put her at arm’s length so I could look her in the eyes. “Was it your brothers? What did they do to you?”
She shook her head, flailing her hair. “Not to me. I ran as fast as I could. You have to stop them. They’ll kill him too!”
I took her face in my hands, making her look at me. Huge tears rolled out of her green eyes and sobs racked her body. “Marigold.” I tried to model a calm voice. “Stop who? Kill who?”
She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to break free from me. I held her tight. “Marigold! I can’t help if you don’t tell me what’s going on.”
“They killed him. They killed Sam!”
“Who killed Sam?” Then it dawned on me. Sam had gone to see the Thurns. Heretics Hell. It was her brothers. What did they do? “We have to tell my father.” I grabbed her hand and made for my house. Marigold flinched, pain making her eyes go more wild, but then she pulled me back.
“We have to help him, Xander! We have to go before they kill him!”
“Wait.” I dropped her hand. My hand was tacky with blood. Was it hers or Sam’s? “If Sam’s dead, how can we help him?”
“Not Sam. Jamus!”
“What about Jamus?”
“He came with Sam to our house. My brothers have him. They have Jamus!”