The Crow King's Wife (The Elder Blood Chronicles #5)(83)
“Mint.” Remedy replied without hesitation as he moved back to the table and took a seat. It was difficult to keep his eyes from straying to the mass of spiders on the ceiling or back to the window, but he forced his attention to Azashy and refused to wonder about the third nest of spiders by her bed. It wouldn’t do to be distracted. He needed to listen to everything she was willing to share and remember exactly what she said and how she said it. “Can you take the form of spiders? I’ve heard that Blackwolf can become a wolf.”
Azashy smiled faintly and shook her head slowly as she opened a canister of tea. “There are varied degrees of Shifters. The weakest can only communicate with their chosen animal. The strongest can assume not only the animals shape, but a hybrid form between animal and human as well. I am toward the bottom of the ladder as far as strength goes. I can command them, speak with them, and I’m immune to their venom, but no I cannot be them.”
“I find that oddly reassuring considering we are roommates at the present.” Remedy returned with what he hoped was a charming smile.
“Are you scared of spiders Fionaveir?” Azashy asked and her smile grew wider.
“Scared? I wouldn’t say that is the appropriate word. I respect the dangerous ones, and I tend to ignore the lesser ones. I can’t say they are something that I would ever go out of my way to be around any of them though.” Remedy answered as carefully as he could and tried not to think of the countless spiders he had intentionally crushed or swatted in his lifetime.
“Most people do ignore them, if they ever notice them in the first place. Which is why I am useful enough to lock away in a dungeon. The term To be a fly on the wall applies very well to my talents. I hear and see so many things that are meant to be private.” Azashy sighed then pulled the boiling water from the stove and joined him at the table with the cups. Carefully she filled both mugs to the rim and the smell of mint bloomed in the stale air.
“So you are the reason that the world is in such chaos. Through your talents Myth has an idea of what we are going to do before we begin to do it. Every time we plan something he knows what it is.” Remedy observed with a frown.
“Partially.” Azashy agreed sadly. “I’ve told Myth so much about certain individuals that I find myself wondering how they are still alive for me to gather information on. I know Myth knows enough about them to kill them, but he doesn’t move against them. He is biding his time for something, but I don’t know what it is. As far as your plans go, well I’ve told him just enough to keep my skin intact, but I’ve tried to spare the details as much as I could. Once I figured out what exactly he was up to my relations with him became…” She paused and a bitter smile creased her lips as she searched for the correct word. “Strained. We will use that word for now, though I’m not sure it is quite descriptive enough. Myth is a monster in every sense of the word. I’ve seen him do things that would sicken Death herself.”
“Who holds the most interest for him?” Remedy asked as he accepted the mug from her and nodded his thanks. He wanted to ask what she had seen Myth do, but he needed to get as much information as he could while he had time. If he managed to ask all of the important questions before Myth’s daily visit to the cell he could go back for details, but for now it was better to have the bones of everything than the full picture on a few things. Raising the cup to his lips he carefully blew on the contents and took a cautious sip. The flavor of mint washed over him and he allowed himself a small smile before nodding his thanks to her again. There was something so soothing about mint that he found himself relaxing despite the fact that he knew the tea wasn’t even real.
Azashy watched him for a moment and took a small sip from her own tea. “It’s amazing how our minds can fill in all of the blanks so perfectly. I know this is not my house and I know this is not really tea, yet I can somehow trick myself into finding comfort in just the memories of it all.” She let out a long slow breath and smiled. “That’s not what we need to be talking about though, so I will get back to the answers you are seeking.” She paused once more as she settled back in the smooth wooden chair and cleared her throat as if she expected it to be a very lengthy conversation. “At first it was the Fionaveir. Given the fact that they were outlaws I assumed he was trying to bring them to justice. I told him what I could of Caspian, Lutheron and Faramir. Vaze was more difficult to gather information on, and you have a horrible tendency to kill any spiders you see. So spying on you was touchy as well.” She smirked at him and he felt himself blush in response to her words. “Then he began asking me about a young girl at the Academy. He even went so far as to have one of his servants deliver spiders to the rooms she stayed in. As it happened she was staying with his son, and it became increasingly obvious that what I told Myth about his son upset him more than the knowledge I gave about the girl. I never understood that.” She shook her head sadly and ran a thumb absently around the rim of her steaming mug. Her eyes rose and she met Remedy’s gaze fully. “Shade Morcaillo was a son any man would have been proud of. He was honorable and compassionate. He strove at his studies as well as his duties to his family with a zealot’s devotion. Everything he did was in an attempt to please his father, and yet all it seemed to do was anger Myth more. Myth called him weak and simple minded, then Myth stopped visiting me for a week or so and when he came again he was different. I was confused at first until I figured that out. I still watched the girl you see, and I had spent so long watching her that I knew those around her fairly well. So I noticed quickly when Oma started acting a bit strangely and it didn’t take much to put the clues together. Myth had become Oma, and something less than him was paying me visits in his guise.”