THE CHILDREN OF THE SPIDER, Part 11

"Father wants to talk to you," Gwen told me. She was being unusually quiet.

"I don't want to talk to him," I snapped back at her. Yes, I was being a jackass, but I was in a really bad mood. The last few hours had been filled with memories. Memories of a time when my grandfather was a completely different man.

I kept trying to recall when even the thought of saving Grandpa vanished, and instead Venom and I simply knew that we would kill him.

Gwen gave me a long and uncompromising look.

"All right," I told her with a sigh. Perhaps I have said this before, but once a big sister, always a big sister.

We were in a back room of that bar on Yance Street. The reason I've never mentioned the bar's name is pretty simple - it doesn't seem to have one. It's been there forever and I supposed it will still be serving cheap, passable, beer when and if the Great Devourer finally returns to eat our world. Currently, most people just call it "Sam's bar" or "Sam's place". When Sam's son eventually takes over, I suppose people will call it something else.

There was a gouged and scarred table in the back room. On it was another cylinder of crystal and brass. I briefly wondered how many of those cylinders the Spider-priestesses had on hand.

Venom was in the cylinder. He was quiet and unmoving - almost peaceful. For whatever reason, he wasn't trying to maintain his hold on me.

*Youuu'll be baaack,* he whispered to me.

I didn't - couldn't - deny that.

Then I helped Gwen to her feet. She was quickly recovering from her injuries, but it was still going to take a while until she was fully healed.

Gwen picked up the cylinder and put it into a large pouch that was slung from her belt. Venom was going back to where he belonged.

The Spider-Priestesses have a small, street-level, temple in the part to Nyack that has the greatest concentration of high towers. Many Spiders don't even know that the temple exists. The priestesses use it to take care of day-to-day business that involves Blood, Folk, and the earth-bound kinds of Wilder. Not everyone appreciates climbing fifty or a hundred flights of stairs.

The fact that father and I were meeting there was interesting. It suggested a certain covertness. It also meant that the Spider-Preistesses weren't hunting me. I wouldn't go so far as to say that all was forgiven, but...

I wondered if Gwen had bullied father into coming. She has a talent for that sort of thing.

"Don't hurt one another," Gwen ordered just before she limped out of the common room and closed the double-doors behind her.

For a tense moment, father and I examined each other. I don't know what he saw, but I was looking at an older version of what I see every time I look in a mirror. I also saw a younger version of the man who I'd just killed. The only obvious difference was that my father was wearing the black and gray uniform of a Spider Legion general.

"Thank you," my father finally said. His words seemed emotionless, but I knew him better than most. He's good at not showing anything to others, but I'm better than most at seeing his true self. He meant what he'd just said. He didn't like saying it, but he meant it.

I nodded to him and said, "It's something I'd rather not have done."

Then I waited for the inevitable questions. I didn't want to face any of them.

Instead, my father did the unexpected.

"There's a succession issue," he said. "We should talk about it. I don't want there to be any confusion."

I shoved down a sudden burst of anger. The issue of who would be the new lord of the clan wasn't something I really cared about.

"What issue?" I almost snarled. "Aren't you the new master of House Parker?"

He was kind enough not to give me his usual "you're an idiot" look. It was then that I finally realized the problem. It was obvious and I should have seen it sooner, but I guess I had a lot on my mind.

"My eldest son killed the man I'd be replacing," father reminded me. "And too many people know that. If I assume mastery, there will be trouble down the road. My position will never be seen as legitimate."

"Uncle Harold is next in line for the position - and after him is Gwen," I said hesitantly.

"Same problem. Which is a shame in terms of Gwen. She'd be a brilliant lord."

"Well, I'm fourth in line and I'm sure as hell not taking the job," I told him.

"You're damn right you're not," my father assured me grimly. "Try claiming it and I'll fight you to the very end."

Gee, thanks, dad.

"Actually, the same problem applies to everyone in our line," I added.

Father took a deep breath and let it out. "Yes. I've been talking with the heads of the lesser branches of the clan. We may have to go deep to find a suitably distant and blameless person - something like two hundred and eightieth in the order of succession. There's a fellow named Miles. He's a little young, but he might work."

I shook my head - blasted Clan politics.

"I suppose you're angry with me," I said.

He actually smiled. "Of course I'm angry. However, I still think you did the right thing."

I couldn't come up with a response to that.

"Why do you think we have a Dark Spider?" father continued bleakly. "Venom is a monster that exists to break rules. It's not just something we use to scare the piss out of our rivals, although it's really handy for that sort of thing. I'm a soldier, Ben. I know there's a time when you toss the rules out the window and do what you have to do. That's always been the Dark Spider's real job."

I took a deep breath and then let it go. "Yeah, I figured that out recently. So what do you want from me?"

My father gave me a long look that suggested he was biting back some unkind responses.

"I want you to vanish for a while - and maybe forever," he said. "Go find that pretty green wife of yours. Make some babies, or at least have a good time going through the motions. I understand you've resigned your position with Lord James of Ashe?"

I nodded. Trust my father to use the ancient formulation of name and placename for a Blood lord. He reads a lot of history.

"That was also the right decision," my father told me - which was the second time he'd said that to me in my entire life. The other time being just a few seconds earlier. "You certainly don't want to drag him into this mess. Especially given the war he's waging against the Creed. He doesn't need the distraction."

It occurred to me that my father seemed to know a lot about a distant man and place. That was interesting.

Apparently, all the time I'd been gone, he'd been keeping an eye on me.

"I have some questions of my own," I said.

My father waited wordlessly for me to continue. There was an impatient look on his face, but I suppose he felt that he owed me.

"There's something I need to know about Jessica. Her mother fell into grandfather's clutches before Jessica was even born. What happened?"

My father tiredly rubbed his eyes. That's a trick he uses to buy time and think. I've seen him do it many times before. It also meant he was being careful about what he was about to say.

After that, he finally answered my question.

"Your grandfather took her in," he said stiffly. "At first it seemed to be a charitable act, but he had plans for her and her unborn child. Those plans didn't work out - nobody in house Stace was completely sane right about then, what with losing the Lordship of the Heights and the resulting clan struggles over House mastery. Eventually, the girl became a problem. The Stace's were pretty vocal that they didn't want a bastard with noble blood in the hands of another house. Clan war was threatened and right about then the Stace's were crazy enough to go through with it."

My father took a deep breath before continuing.

"So your grandfather had the woman killed," he finished.

I let out a long sigh. I'd pretty much heard the same thing from Jonah, but it was still a horrible thing to be told. I'm not naive about house-and-clan power politics, but this was something else. And it was an incredibly dark deed.

I wanted to blame it all on Carnage, but...

"What about Jessica?" I continued stubbornly.

Father grimaced. "She was still unborn when her mother was killed. Whoever the killer was, they cut Jessica out of her dead mother's womb and took her away. I tried to track Jessica down, but all I could find was that a newborn baby was given to a wetnurse and sent out of town on an east-bound caravan. I later found out that the caravan was raided and wiped out. There was no sign of the nurse or child."

I raised an eyebrow. "You looked for Jessica?"

He nodded irritably. "I found out what grandfather was going to do to the mother. I didn't approve and I tried to stop it, but I was too late. When I learned that the baby was missing - well, I did what I could, but it wasn't enough. I couldn't find her."

That made me frown. "What was the problem? You've always been good at obeying orders. Grandfather would give them and you always jumped."

My father gave me a long and cold look. I returned it.

"Jessica's mother was innocent," he finally told me. "And she was family."

"Family?"

He nodded. "Jessica's grandmother had an affair with a Parker. So Jessica's mother was half-Parker and half-Thomlin. Jessica has Stace, Parker, and Thomlin blood, but I understand that she takes after the Stace side of her family."

Huh, so I was related to Jessica. I can't say that I was completely surprised.

"Which Parker was Jessica's grandfather?" I asked.

My father stared at me. And in that moment, the spirit of the First Spider stood at my shoulder and warned me of danger.

Then my father blinked and the moment passed.

"Does it matter?" he said expressionlessly. By then I'd figured it out. At least he hadn't lied to me, but his tone told me to go no further.

"Fine," I replied carefully. I might - might - be able to take my father in a fight. But I didn't want to. After all, I'd already killed one blood relative just the night before. That was enough for now.

What did that make Jessica - my half-grand-niece? Was that even considered to be an actual thing? Maybe I should just think of her as a cousin.

Then father pulled something out of his armored vest and it clattered onto the table in front of me. I recognized it. It was the reliquary necklace that Jonah tried to give to Jessica. It contained a small portion of the ashes of Jessica's mother. Jessica had angrily refused it.

"I don't know if you ever plan on going back to Ashe," my father said, "but if you do... well, Jonah says that Jessica trusts you. Tell her the story. Tell her the only thing her mother did wrong was to take the wrong man into her heart, and then seek help in the wrong place. And, when you think the time is right, see if she'll take this. I'm sure Jessica's mother would have wanted her to have it."

He was asking me to do the right thing. I nodded, scooped up the reliquary, and tucked it away in a belt pouch.

Then my father made as if he was about to get to his feet.

"One more thing," I interrupted. "Were you planning to kill grandfather?"

"Yes," my father answered without hesitation.

Interestingly, that time my impertinence didn't trigger a warning of danger.

"Why didn't you?" I asked.

His lips curled back irritably. "I wanted to avoid a war within the family. That wasn't easy to do, so I moved slowly. If I'd know about Carnage... well, I wouldn't have hesitated."

"Was that the only time you considered killing grandfather? Recently, I mean? What about when Jessica's mother was murdered?"

"Yes." Again, there was no hesitation. This was something my father wanted to talk about.

"Why didn't you do it then?"

My father grimaced. "The situation back then was a mess. Everything was in turmoil and it was a problem for all of the high families. There were power-shifts, back-room dealings, spying, and more than a few killings. I felt I couldn't let the House become destabilized during such a time. So I let the moment pass."

"And after that?" I pressed.

"After that, there was another crisis," he said curtly. "And then another one after that. It seemed like there was always a good reason why I couldn't act - why I couldn't risk what might become a disaster for the family and clan. I was fool enough not to realize that there's always a damn crisis, and most of them aren't as important as you think at the time. And after a few years of that... well... I just let things lie."

He got to his feet and looked into my eyes. "I was wrong about that. Dead wrong. Whatever else happened here, Ben, I want you to know this - you were the one who got it right."

Then he left the room. We didn't say goodbye or shake hands.

My grandmother caught up to me outside of the inn where I was staying.

She was in a carraige, which was something of an affectation even for a high-mistress of a Spider clan. Grandmother had picked up a love for horses when she was young, and in her day she was a noted equestrian. However, actually being on horseback was considered far too undignified for someone of her age and rank - after all, she was more formally known as the High Lady May Jane Parker. Thus the carraige.

It suddenly occured to me that grandma would enjoy Sophie's company if they ever met.

At the time of his death, grandfather and grandmother had been separated for over two decades. She'd been the first to leave him when his mastery of the house turned obviously cruel. However, she'd loved him once. I'd seen that with my own eyes when I was just a boy.

Grandma is a tiny, slender, woman. She was dressed in a mourning gown of black and dark-blue. A web-like veil covered her face, but it was sheer enough that I could see her face. Grandma had never been a great beauty, but her face is marked by a kind of character that inevitably catches the eye.

Two quite competent-looking house Legionnaires watched me closely as a huge Grimm helped grandmother out of her carraige. A Folk mage was by my grandmother's side. The carraige driver was dressed appropriately for his position, but he was a Blood. As he sat in the carriage bench, his eyes were locked on me with the ferocious intensity of his kind. The slight and pretty handmaiden who got out of the carriage and stood behind my grandmother was one of the rare and forbidden Spider-Bloods. If anything, she was even more ready for violence than everyone else. I couldn't imagine why such a creature was in my grandmother's service.

So... two Spider-warriors, a mage, a Grimm, a Blood, and a Spider-Blood girl who was probably a total psychopath.

The First Spider was screaming a warning to me. Those were a lot of bodyguards, and they were all obviously ready and willing for a fight. I'd be very quickly dead if they got it in their heads that I was a threat to their mistress. Or if she ordered them to kill me.

Standing on a gravelled walkway by the side of the street, I had no idea what to expect. It was possible that grandmother would order my execution. There was nobody to stop her and, according to a quite reasonable interpretation of law and tradition, she had the right to demand my death.

If it came to that, I wondered if I would fight or simply accept her judgement.

Grandma made a restraining gesture with her hand and stepped away from her retinue. All of them stirred uneasily. I was glad, but not surprised, to see that her people cared for her so much. The handmaiden, of course, remained just behind and to the left of my grandmother. Her eyes were properly kept downwards, but that meant nothing.

The Grimm was a seven-foot tall mountain of orange rock. In careful defiance of grandmother's orders, he dared to take a few additional steps while keeping his eyes on me. His warning to me was unspoken, but completely clear. Grimm's are often like that - they pursue their duty rather than strictly obey their orders. Some people think that makes them unsuitable servants. Others think that makes them utterly invaluable servants. I tend towards the second opinion.

But, then again, I would. Wouldn't I?

"Grandma," I said quietly as I gave her a formal bow.

Then I made my peace as best I could and waited to see what would come next.

Within seconds, grandma was in my arms. She clutched me in powerful grip and buried her face in my chest.

"You're all right," she sobbed brokenly. "Oh, Benjamin, thank the First Spider, you're all right."

"Grandma, grandma, it's okay," I whispered as I rocked her in my arms.

I really had to leave town, but another great lady of House Parker had commanded my presence. She also demanded that Jonah accompany me. It was impossible for us to refuse.

We found Aunt Felicia in Uncle Otto's now abandoned alchemical workshop. Uncle Otto had been dead for over a month, so she was still in mourning. She was dressed in colors similar to my grandmother, but in her home she had put aside the traditional veil.

As Jonah and I entered the laboratory, Aunt Felicia was seated at Uncle Otto's desk. Around her, a half-dozen tables were scattered with glassware and strange instruments. Shelves of chemicals and ingredients lined the walls. Everything in the lab was already acquiring a layer of dust.

Aunt Felicia's marraige to Uncle Otto had been arranged by the match-makers of the greater families. When you got down to it, Uncle Otto hadn't really had the social skills - and perhaps the desire - to woo a woman. It's said that their time together as husband and wife was quite awkward at first.

I really didn't know Aunt Felicia very well, but one look at the miserable sadness in her eyes and I knew that she'd learned to love her strange husband.

"My lady," I said with bow. Jonah copied me.

For a long moment, Aunt Felicia just looked at us. Then she got to her feet, picked up a shawl that was draped over the back of the chair, and wrapped it around her shoulders. That simple act made her seem much older than her actual age.

"I think Otto discovered what was wrong with his brother," she said without preamble. "He must have let something slip - Otto was never good at subterfuge. I'm sure that's why he was murdered."

"Yes, my Lady," Jonah and I said at the same time. There was, of course, no real way to know if that was true. But if that belief gave Aunt Felicia comfort, then so be it.

"Thank you," she told us with wretched intensity. "Thank you for killing that monster. You have done me a great service."

Words were awkward. So Jonah and I wordlessly bowed once again.

"You need to hear this from my lips," Aunt Felicia continued. "I am in life-debt to you two. If there is anything I can ever do for either of you, do not hesitate to contact me."

Then Aunt Felicia took a final, long, look around the laboratory. Something about the way she did that told me she would never enter that room again. There was too much of her husband in it.

"Thank you for visiting me. I'll have a servant escort you out," Aunt Felicia finished. Despite the tears appearing in her eyes, she still had a surprisingly strong voice.

Then she left us alone.

Jonah and I exchanged a long look. I let out a long breath.

Jonah shook his head. "Wow," he said. I couldn't think of a response.

"Shouldn't more people be mad at us?" Jonah then asked.

I made an exasperated gesture with my hands. "It's like everyone is waking up from a nightmare. There's a time when all you care about is that the nightmare is over."

Jonah just nodded as he looked around.

"The legendary laboratory of Uncle Otto..." he murmured thoughtfully. It occured to me that Jonah had never been in that room before.

Then he picked something up from one of the lab tables.

"What's that?" I asked.

"I'm not sure," Jonah responded distractedly as he turned a circular band around in his hands. Some short cylinders were mounted around its periphery. A probe of some kind protruded from one side. There was a shackle-like opening and closing mechanism.

"It looks like you wear it around your wrist," I suggested, "but it's too small for armor and too plain for jewelry."

Jonah nodded in agreement. Then he pressed something.

A white streak shot out of the circular band. Jonah dropped the device in surprise. It clattered onto the table.

"What the blazes?" Jonah sputtered.

I hesitantly picked up the band. It was now connected to a rafter by a white line of what looked like a woven material.

I pulled on the line experimentally. Nothing happened. Then I pulled harder and the rafter creaked.

"Damn," I said in surprise. "This stuff is pretty strong."

"Huh..." Jonah grunted as he gripped the webbing line and gave it a yank of his own. Again the line didn't detach from the rafter beam.

"It's like the webbing Venom and Carnage shot from their wrists," I added thoughtfully, "but it's not biological."

"You know... this could be useful," Jonah suggested.

I nodded in agreement.

Then something else caught my eye. There was a tall and bulky cabinet next to Uncle Otto's desk. The door was partly ajar and inside the cabinet was a man-like figure.

I carefully opened the cabinet door.

Jonah gasped. I was just as surprised as he was.

Inside the cabinet was a wire-frame mannequin of a kind used by expensive tailors. Draped over the mannequin was some sort of form-fitting war-garb. The general layout of it reminded me of that once worn by the First Spider, but slightly bulkier, and there was some sort of plate-armor around the upper chest. Bizarrely, a set of four mechanical arm-like structures protruded from the armor's back and wrapped around the figure's mid-section. The arms were tipped with steel spikes.

"What the blazes was Uncle Otto up to in here?" Jonah said with a shake of his head. Then he reached out to touch the... the... whatever-the-heck-it-was.

I suddenly came to my senses and slammed the cabinet door shut. Jonah barely moved his hand out of the way in time.

"We're intruding," I told Jonah firmly.

An abashed look came over Jonah's face. "You're right, of course. We should leave. Where's that blasted servant who's supposed to show us out?"

But Jonah was still looking at the cabinet. And I could see something eager and hungry deep in his eyes.

That evening, Jonah and I said our goodbyes at the boat-docks. Like me, my father had suggested that Jonah should make himself scarce.

Ensign-Herald Jonah Anthony Parker had done the best he could with a bad situation. He'd risked his life to help save his family's future, and he was being punished for that. Part of growing up is the realization that life isn't fair. Like most men his age, Jonah understood that as an intellectual truth, but now he was finally experiencing it in a very real way.

He was staring out into the distance, watching a pair of river-boats as their crews strenously rowed them towards the docks.

"I'm sorry," I told Jonah.

Jonah broke out of his reverie and looked at me

"You don't have any reason to apologize," he told me. He sounded very sure about that. I appreciated that, but I wasn't sure he was completely right.

"Where are you going?" I asked.

"South - to Jerse," Jonah replied. "I know someone in the Temple of the Sword-Lady down there. She once told me they always need help against the Hand."

Jonah certainly seemed to know a lot of interesting ladies...

"The Hand?" I asked slowly, and I could hear the worry in my own voice. "Those bastards are back?"

He gave me a bleak look. "She says they've never left."

It occurred to me that maybe Jonah needed some company, but he cut me off before I could say anything.

"No," Jonah told me with a shake of his head. "There's someone you should really see. I think it's been too long."

I hesitated, but then I nodded in agreement.

"Do you think you might eventually go back to Ashe?" Jonah asked.

"Not soon," I replied.

He let out a breath and then nodded. "If you ever happen to run into Dani..."

Then Jonah paused.

"I'll tell her that you're wildly in love with her," I said with a chuckle.

Jonah didn't react in any way to what I'd just said.

Oh.

I wiped the smile from my face.

"Tell her I hope to see her again someday," Jonah finally told me. He sounded almost formal.

I nodded my head slowly. "If I have the chance, I'll do that," I reassured him.

We shook hands. Then Jonah picked up his belongings - he was carrying a very large duffle bag - and walked away.

Eventually I slipped out of town - Ed helped with that - and worked my way up the Huds river to the Point. Then I settled in for a while as I tried to figure out a way to get back into Lord Ashe's service. I didn't dare do that anytime soon. What I'd done would inevitably become known, and then all hell might break loose. Who knew what alliances and schemes grandfather-Carnage had been wrapped up in? I couldn't dump any of that at James' front gate.

And I still didn't know what to say to Jessica if I ever saw her again.

I left word of where I could be found with some people I trusted. A few days later, Faye showed up. She found me in a rented room above one of the local taverns.

"Hello, husband," she said, just before she hugged me and planted a big kiss on my lips. Her hug was so powerful that I felt my ribs creak. Faye wasn't in her green form, but she's strong even without that.

"Taking some time off from saving the world?" I asked once I could breath again.

"Exactly. Rose told me to have some fun," Faye told me as she picked me up and dumped me on the bed. Then she began peeling her clothes off. Out of habit, the last thing she took off was the kerchief around her head. She uses that to hide her green hair.

Which is sort of odd, since once she has her skirt off, you can see the tight triangle of dark-green curls between her legs. However, I've never thought that was a point worth mentioning. I just enjoy the view.

Then Faye yanked off my shirt and leggings. I can't ever recall actually undressing myself when Faye was feeling randy, but I'm fine with that.

"Did you cheat on me while I was gone?" she asked eagerly as she removed my pants.

"I came pretty close," I admitted. "There's a girl in Crowe named Leah. She's very pretty and wanted to impress the boss. I was the boss."

"Is she prettier than me?"

"Of course not. Well... she might have a nicer ass."

"What?!" Faye exclaimed indignantly. She sat on the bed next to me and it groaned in protest. Faye was putting on height and breadth as an emerald hue crept over her bare skin. Straddling me, she grabbed my wrists and pinned them above my head - as if I was interested in going anywhere.

"I'm not really sure," I said thoughtfully. "You know, she said she has no problem with threesomes. Maybe the next time we're in Crowe, we should do a side-by-side compar... urk!"

Faye was making a determined effort to make me forget about Leah. That was silly, since Leah would never be Faye's rival in any way that mattered. However, I was willing to enjoy Faye's efforts to remind me why I'd married her.

I wiggled one of my hands free, grabbed Faye by the hair and pulled her face down to mine. Our lips met in another long kiss.

"How much time do you have?" I asked once we were free to talk again.

Faye was straining against me, her eyes closed and a hungry smile on her face. "A week... maybe more," she muttered in a roughening voice. "Let's spend it all in bed."

"Sounds good," I said just before I rolled her over and pinned her body underneath mine. Her legs scissored around my lower back and gripped me tight as a growl of pleasure rumbled out of her chest and made the bed vibrate.

The future held a lot of questions. I'd answer them as best I could.

But until then, I had something to keep me busy.

And that ends this tale. As usual, I suppose I've left more questions open than I've settled. However, isn't that more-or-less the way the world really works?

As always, thank you for reading, and I particularly appreciate all of the kind and thoughtful comments I've received. I know a lot of you guys are Spider-Man fans, and I hope I've done well by you.

I'm sure I'll be back sometime in the future. Until then, may whichever great spirit in which you believe guide your hand, guard your soul, and grant you wisdom.