“A sssmall burn only. But Alítheia found no moon jelliesss. Ssshe mussst hunt them elsssewhere. You mussst eat them, ssso ssshe can eat you,” the spider said, crawling past Sera.
“Alítheia, wait!” Sera called out, desperate to keep the spider talking. “Why do the goblins throw lava at you?”
“Becaussse they are cruel. Like the commander. Like hisss daughter. Thisss isss how thingsss are now.”
Vallerio and Lucia, Sera thought grimly. They’re setting a fine example, as always.
“The goblins shouted at you. What did they say?”
The spider stopped. She turned around. Hope leapt in Sera.
“They sssaid, ‘We made you, Alítheia. And we can kill you, too.’ Why sssay sssuch thingsss? They did make Alítheia, but ssshe desspisssesss them! Neria iss the one who breathed life into Alítheia, not the ssstinking goblinsss. Merrow isss the one who gave her purpossse.”
The spider shook her head sorrowfully as she spoke.
“What’s wrong?” asked Sera.
“The goblinsss taunt Alítheia becaussse they are afraid of her,” said the spider. “Her purpossse is to ssscare all thossse who would take the throne of Miromara, but ssshe ssscaresss everyone, not just impossstersss.”
“Maybe we could change that,” Sera ventured, hoping to soften the creature.
“No,” Alítheia said brusquely. “Merrow made Alítheia thisss way, and none can change her. Ssshe wanted Alítheia to frighten enemiesss of the throne, becaussse ssshe hersssself was frightened.”
Sera’s hope trickled away as the spider continued down the tunnel.
“What was Merrow afraid of, Alítheia?” Sera shouted. It was the first thing that popped into head. She knew full well what Merrow was afraid of, but she was desperate.
Once again, the spider stopped. “Orfeo,” she replied, a note of exasperation in her voice.
“Why? She thought Orfeo was dead,” Sera said. “She believed that she and the other mages had killed him.”
Alítheia turned back to Sera again. She shook her fearsome head. “When Abbadon attacked, there wasss no time. Only fear. Only death. After, there wasss time. To think. To remember. Time to go back to Atlantisss. Time to find out. To know.”
“Know what?” Sera asked.
“What he did!” the spider said angrily, stamping her front legs. “How he made hisss monssster!”
Sera caught her breath. “Great Neria, she knows,” she whispered. “Alítheia knows what Abbadon’s made of.”
“Atlantis? Orfeo? Serafina, what are you talking about?” Fossegrim asked.
“I’ll explain everything as soon as we get out of here, I promise,” Sera said. She addressed the spider again. “Alítheia, please don’t go down the tunnel,” she begged. “Stay here. Talk to me. Tell me what you know.”
Sera wasn’t babbling anymore. Her conversation with Alítheia had taken a turn she hadn’t expected. She’d forgotten she was a prisoner in the spider’s den, forgotten the danger she was in. All she could think about was how close she was to the answer that had eluded her for so long. It had been right here, in Cerulea, all this time, with the Merrovingians’ long-serving, faithful guardian.
Merrow, Nyx, Sycorax, Navi, Pyrrha—five of the greatest mages the world had ever known had not been able to kill Abbadon, because they’d had no idea what dark materials Orfeo had used to fashion the monster. But Merrow had found out. And she’d spoken about her discovery in front of Alítheia. Sera needed that information if she and her friends were to destroy the monster.
Sera knew that both the sea goddess Neria and Merrow had been present when Alítheia was made. There were mosaics in the ruins of Merrow’s reggia that depicted the event. Goblins had mined the ore. Bellogrim, the god of fire, had forged her. Merrow had dripped her own blood in the vat of molten bronze. Neria herself had breathed life into the spider.
Sera had often imagined the conversation between Neria, Bellogrim, and Merrow, but that conversation had never included Alítheia, because Sera had never thought of the spider as a reasoning, feeling creature, one worth talking to.
But that had just changed.
“Alítheia, where did Merrow go when she went to Atlantis? Did she go to the death goddess Morsa’s temple? Did she talk about it in front of you?” Sera asked, trying to contain her excitement.
“Yesss. Ssshe sssaid ssshe heard the sssouls. In the bloodsssong. And ssshe knew then what hisss monssster wasss. Sssouls. Ssso many. Angry. Ssscared. Trapped. And ssshe underssstood why ssshe and the other magesss could not kill it. Becaussse no one can kill—”
“An immortal soul,” Sera finished, astonished. “Abbadon is made of human souls. Morsa taught Orfeo how to catch souls, and keep them, and he used the souls of the people he sacrificed to her to make a monster that was indestructible.”