Chapter Text
PR0L0GU3
processing approach vector… stellar debris heading zero-two-seven mark zero-zero-four
1 H4V3 4LW4Y5 B33N H3R3
engaging engine to compensate… firing cycle complete
1 H4V3 4LW4Y5 L00K3D 0U7 FR0M B3H1ND TH353 3Y35
targeting forward array to deflect inbound minor object: size minimal
1T F33L5 L1K3 M0R3 7H4N 4 L1F371M3
successful deflection… proceeding on course
F33L5 L1K3 M0R3 7H4N 4 L1F371M3
compensating for pitch correction… yaw correction… stabilized
50M371M35 1 G37 71R3D 0F 7H3 W4171NG
utilizing stellar cartographic model for reference
50M371M35 1 G37 71R3D 0F B31NG 1N H3R3
position triangulation… verified
1S 7H15 7H3 W4Y 1T H45 4LW4Y5 B33N
warning: solar flare detected one-three-four mark two-one-six
C0ULD 17 H4V3 3V3R B33N D1FF3R3N7
determining threat index… result: negligible
D0 Y0U 3V3R G37 71R3D 0F 7H3 W4171NG
adjusting shields to minimize adverse radiation
D0 Y0U 3V3R G37 71R3D 0F B31NG 1N 7H3R3
calculating degree of drift: 0.000001025%
D0N’7 W0RRY
all systems report… condition: normal operation
N0B0DY L1V35 F0R3V3R
help me
N0B0DY L1V35 F0R3V3R
processing approach vector: stellar debris heading three-one-four mark one six
1.
The hovership made its way down the valley towards the source of the distress signal. Signals, the pilot corrected herself. The computer would only pick up the one, I suppose…
She found there wasn’t a lot of room for error. Luckily for her, she didn’t know of anyone she’d rather have at the helm than herself. Her expert hands flew across the controls as she manually lowered the bulky vessel down beside the crippled one that was calling for assistance. I’m sure they’ll be pleased to see me, she thought. It only took me an hour and change to get here; I certainly hope I was quick enough, though.
As soon as she had the hovership on the ground, she opened the pilot’s hatch and strode out to take in the scene before her. There were two of the troopers, likely the commanding officer and the pilot if her analysis was correct, standing beside the damaged vessel. She turned her attention to the hillside, which was running orange and red with bloodshed. A small pile of bodies could be seen just outside the edge of a cave recessed into the hill, while three of the soldiers held position at a distance, their rifles aimed at the cave entrance, waiting for any further sign of movement.
She approached the orangeblood woman who bore markings that indicated her as a Chief Warrant Officer. “Status report.”
“Holy shit, that was quick,” the Chief replied. “Too bad it wasn’t quicker, though, or else we might’ve had enough bodies to actually fill half of your transport.”
“I said I wanted a status report, not some half-assed head count, Chief,” she spat.
The unit commander finally turned to take a look at who was speaking to her and almost did a double take when she realized that her rescue squad consisted of a blueblood wearing the uniform of a Screamarine officer, along with an eyepatch and a long blue sword on her hip that the Chief strongly suspected weren’t merely fashion accessories. “I’m sorry, ma’am. I didn’t think they’d send someone like yourself to attend to our damaged ship!”
“Guess you thought wrong. Who are you?”
She swallowed. “Chief Warrant Officer Aurine Evinbo, commander of Cavalreapers Squadron 2A. This is my pilot, Private Rufioh Nitram.”
The young man offered a wan smile and wave. “Hey there… Ma’am! I mean, uhh… yes, ma’am! Hello!”
“At ease, Private.” The tension pouring off of them both was palpable to her. “This your first time out of the box, boy?”
He nodded. “Yes, ma’am! Never thought I’d see anything like this right away, though… especially on-planet!”
Evinbo took a deep breath. “You’re not kidding, Nitram. Whatever’s gotten into that oliveblood, she’s taking it out on anything that comes near her. She’s damn near completely savage.”
“I suppose sweeps of solitude will do that to someone.”
The Chief gave her a funny look. “Who did you say you were again? Ma’am?”
The response was a dark stare. “Lieutenant Commander Despri Tchibi, 8th Division, Screamarines.”
Evinbo thought about what was said for a moment. “Tchibi? That’s an odd name.”
“It’s from the Eastern Prefectures.”
Another pause. “You don’t look like you’re from the Eastern Prefectures…”
“And you don’t look like you’re smart enough to know what you’re talking about, shitblood! Now, are you going to tell me what the fuck is happening here, or am I going to have to crack your pan open and read it for myself?”
The Cavalreaper commander straightened up immediately, fearing her death at the hands of this angry highblood might be far messier than if the crazed feral troll in the cave got her hands on her instead. “Sorry… sorry, ma’am! I meant no disrespect, ma’am!”
Tchibi sighed; military minds were so predictable. “Whatever. Will you just fill me in already?”
“Right. Sorry, ma’am. We sent a distress call because our thrust converter overloaded thanks to some incompetent fuckwit at the maintenance shop leaving the power converters dangling, so we had to set down here. We started looking around and found this bracelet,” she said, handing the Screamarine the olive coloured wooden wristband, “and realized we were not alone. We started looking for the owner, hoping to find out what would drive someone to live out here, aside from hiding from the Empire. Well, we found her cave and next thing I knew two of my troops didn't report back. And then two more disappear. I make a point of watching as the next two more go in, and then I see her: this crazy looking woman came flying out of the cave, grabbed the one with the rifle and tore his throat out with her teeth! She’s all painted up in red and orange blood, and that just soaked her even more so. The gal with the lance readied to take her down, but she just leapt from him to her and took her head clean off with no effort at all! I gave the order to gun her down, but she just went back in the cave! I sent one more lancer in there to try and surprise her, but she hauled him in and then, a minute later, she starts throwing pieces of him out at us!” Evinbo shuddered at the recollection. “I’ve seen some nasty shit in my time, ma’am… even done some, but this was just ugly! If I didn’t know better I’d say it was psychological tactics. Either she’s crazy as a shithive rat, or she knows exactly what she’s doing. I wouldn’t venture a guess either way…”
Tchibi nodded. “I see. And what is your plan at this juncture? Cut your losses and get on my ship so we can get out of here?”
The Cavalreaper was aghast at the idea. “What? Fuck no, ma’am! We’re not leaving here until she’s dead or all of us are! That’s how we do things! I don’t know if you Screamarines are called that because you run screaming when things get tough, but she’s got Cavalreaper blood on her hands, so we’re going to have to take her hands with us and get it back!”
The blueblood officer shook her head sadly at this news. “That’s unfortunate, but it’s also what I thought you’d say. If that’s the way it has to be, then so be it.” On the hill, the three Cavalreapers that remained rose to their feet. Each one trained a weapon on another and then promptly fired. All three fell in a spray of red.
“WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?” yelled Evinbo, which startled Nitram even more so than the sudden weapons fire.
“I’m terribly sorry about this, Chief,” Tchibi said, moving in behind her. “Nothing personal, but I just don’t think you’d be able to keep your mouth shut.” A quick twist of the neck and Aurine Evinbo slumped to the ground, dead. “Besides, you’re scaring this poor young man with all that yelling.”
Rufioh Nitram stood agape at what just unfolded in front of him. He couldn’t form a word if his life depended on it… which he feared it very well might.
“Soooooooo… What to do with you, boy?” Tchibi asked. “You seem like a nice fellow, but then, to make the Cavalreapers, you gotta be a tough one. Somehow I don’t suspect your hands are completely clean.” She advanced on him; he stepped back and reached for a sidearm. She could sense that he was calculating his odds of being able to draw on her before she took him down and she knew he didn’t like his chances at all.
Nitram’s back hit the metal bulkhead of his hovership. The Screamarine decided what she was going to do and closed her eyes…
“NO!”
Both of them looked at the source of the sound. The oliveblood was running down the hill as fast as her legs could carry her. “No!” she repeated as she made her way towards them.
Tchibi could sense the panic in the woman’s thinkpan and took two steps back from the orangeblood pilot, just to show that she had heard and to help defuse the situation. The tiny feral woman kept coming, though and when she arrived, she placed herself between them as if to ensure that no more harm would be done that day. She looked the blueblood in the eyes and shook her head. “No!”
“I heard you, dear; don’t worry…” She put her hands up in the air to show that she would not harm him. “In fact, I couldn’t agree more. There will be no more killing today. Besides, he is kinda cuuuuuuuute…”
Rufioh relaxed visibly and gave her a lopsided smile. “Hey, thanks! Uhhh… I mean, thank you, ma’am! I appreciate thaaaaaaaa…”
The oliveblood was horrified as he slumped to the ground with that smile still on his face. She looked at the woman in the black and blue uniform, the obvious question in her eyes.
“No, he’s not dead. He’s just having a nap. In fact, when he wakes up, he’ll think that he courageously defended himself from a mutinous assault by his terrified crew members. When the real rescue transport comes to find him, he’ll tell them that they were attacked by a wild animal, and when most of them were gutted, they freaked out and refused to listen to the Chief’s orders. They killed her but he was able to defend himself. I will need to do a bit of… hivekeeping to make that a viable tale, though. They’ll give him a lift back home ; probably even give him a medal or something. Best part is, he will genuinely believe in his bravery. Hopefully he chooses to put it to good use.”
She looked at the shaggy haired woman, who seemed appeased by this reply. “Now, speaking of real rescue transports, we can’t stay here anymore. You need to get what you have and get ready to roll out.” Tchibi sensed reluctance from her to leave this place and a question about the identity of her rescuer. “Hey, it’s okay. I’m a friend. Here, check this out.” The Screamarine slipped her gloved left hand into her tunic collar and extracted a silver necklace. She showed the sigil to the woman, who looked at it with a mixture of confusion and terror.
Oh shit! Tchibi recalled that this woman wouldn’t understand the significance of that symbol in society. She thinks I’m showing her the irons her matesprit was killed while wearing! Stupid stupid stupid… better fix this quick. “No, no! This is a good symbol now! Signless! Kankri Vantas!”
The sound of that name caused the oliveblood to gasp involuntarily. After a few seconds, she stammered, “K… Ka… Kankri?”
“That’s right! Kankri!” She could feel the flood of emotions pouring off of the feral woman and it was in that moment Tchibi truly understood that she was actually standing in front of one of the most famous figures of Alternia’s underground religion: the Disciple of the Sufferer. However, in order to completely convince her, Despri would have to speak this woman’s name: a name that very few knew, but one she would never forget as the first time she heard it herself, it was being screamed by her lover from a cellblock as a result of psychological torture. However, it also marked the turning point in their relationship, from which a short-lived matespritship grew. She was no longer sure if the more overwhelming emotions were coming from the oliveblood or from inside of her. With a right hand that was ever so slightly trembling, she pointed at her and said, “And you... are Meulin Leijon.”
Tchibi didn't think it would be possible for Leijon’s eyes to possibly open any wider. She nodded her head, her scraggly mane moving with it. “Meu… Meulin.”
The blueblood smiled and said, “I believe this belongs to you.” She handed Leijon back her stylized olive bracelet, which was quickly snatched up and returned to its rightful place. Despri could feel the lean woman relaxing slightly, so she decided to confirm her own identity as best she could. She put a finger up to Meulin to signal that she’d be back in a moment, and walked over to her hovership. A few seconds later, she returned wearing a long black leather overcoat with blue trim. She pointed to the front shoulder panel of the jacket where a cerulean blue symbol was embroidered on to it and said, “Mindfang. Marquise Spinneret Mindfang.”
Meulin’s jaw was hanging open now. “You? Mi… Mindfang?”
Mindfang nodded. “Mm-hmm. You might recognize this, too!” She then gestured to the buttons on her jacket; one in particular was gold but was a perfect match to the gold button Meulin had pinned to her collar.
There was no longer any question in Leijon’s mind as to who this person was. She ran up to Spinneret, threw her arms around her and squeezed her very tightly. Mindfang was looking down at the red and orange smears it made on her coat, but then found she wasn’t terribly concerned. This isn’t the first time there’s been blood on it. It’ll come off easily enough.
“Th… thunk… no… Thank. You. You… come.”
“I swore to you I would do what I could. I’m just glad it all came together so quickly. Now, much as I’d love to keep being hugged, we really do need to go unless you want to see more people die here. Let’s get what you need from that cave and go, okay?”
Meulin nodded, and set out back up the hill. She only went a few steps before she stopped, came back and grabbed Spinneret’s hand. “Come!” she said, and Mindfang couldn’t possibly say no even if she wanted to.
As they made their way up towards Leijon’s soon-to-be-former home, Spinneret took note of the carnage lining the hillside. Wow… that is pretty damn intimidating. She does NOT fuck around. In particular, the red and orange mess right at the mouth of the cave was still sticky; Mindfang did her best to step over it lest she get any on her scarlet boots. Once inside, however, it was her turn to be amazed: her eyes took in incredible drawings and paintings that covered the entire interior of the cave, and she almost forgot to breathe. I can count on the fingers of my real hand the number of times I’ve been genuinely surprised in my life, but I can officially add one to that number now… Incredible! The ultimate shrine to the Signless!
While she examined the cave walls with wide eyed wonder, Meulin gathered what few possessions she had, but there were two of them she knew her guest would want to see. She tapped Spinneret on the shoulder and waited until the slender blueblood turned to face her. Once she had Mindfang’s attention, she held up a black and jade green dress and spoke a single word: “Porrim.”
Spinneret reached out and gently took the handmade garment that she had left behind at the entrance to this very cave many sweeps ago; it was still in the same pristine state as it had been then, save for some dust. Mindfang nodded, and then reached up and pointed to the jade ring dangling from her golden earring. “Porrim,” she repeated back and Meulin smiled.
Leijon left the dress in Spinneret’s hands and walked over to a spot further into the cave. She gestured for Mindfang to join her, which she did shortly after. The sheer enormity of the number of drawings on the walls almost overwhelmed the Marquise, but she followed Meulin’s finger to a couple of boxes with symbols. It was tough for her to make out what they were due to lack of good light and the sheer age of those particular etchings, but she suspected her guide would fill her in.
What shocked her first, though, was the explanation of the other piece of clothing Meulin was holding: a pair of short grey pants. “Kankri.” It took a moment for her to understand what Leijon was getting at, but then it dawned on her: these were the leggings worn by the Signless the night he was executed. There were even bright red spots of his dried blood still on them; she’d never seen blood of that colour before. Mindfang couldn’t even begin to imagine what the world at large would do if it were known that those still existed somewhere. Steal them? Burn them? All she knew was that she’d have to keep it as quiet as possible for now.
The show was not over, though. Meulin gestured to the faded boxes on her wall. One consisted of a simple drawing of Disciple and of the Signless; a heart shape was painted between them. While Mindfang was touched by this, it was the picture beside it that caused her put her hand to her mouth in bittersweet shock: a painting of someone she immediately recognized as Porrim, and beside that, a heart and the very symbol emblazoned on the front of the jacket she was currently wearing. Spinneret reached forward to touch it, as though resting her hand upon it would make it that much more real. This has been on her wall for nearly forty sweeps... right beside one of her earliest paintings of the Signless and herself. “I... don’t know what to say...”
Meulin moved up beside her and embraced her again. “For you. Thank you come.”
They held each other silently for a minute or so, and then Mindfang gently suggested that they needed to leave and quickly. As Leijon acquired the last of her possessions, it occurred to Spinneret that the oliveblood had no paintbrushes... or paint. Oh my... she did all of this by hand... literally! But what did she use for... Ohhhhhhhh. She needed only look to the edge of the cave for her answer as to what medium the artist used. Blood from her kills. Gotta admit, she’s resourceful. I like that...
Mindfang was amazed by the volume of the cave; she suspected Disciple may have enlarged it somewhat over the sweeps, but it certainly wasn’t due to needed space for any items she was acquiring. The paintings covered every single space on the walls. Maybe I can set her up with something like this back on the island... which reminds me, we need to talk about that once we’re in the ship.
As they stepped over the congealing pools of maroon and orange on their way out from the cave, Meulin turned around and from the way she was looking back into it, Mindfang was worried that she would have to convince Leijon her to abandon her home through other means. Spinneret offered an empathic nudge of calm feelings and the suggestion that leaving quickly would be ideal; Meulin finally broke away and joined her in walking down the hill to the waiting, functional hovership.
On their way past the disabled one, Spinneret tossed a glance over to the pilot, who was still sleeping soundly against the side panel. He’ll be fine till help arrives, but I think I ought to put him inside, just in case something wanders by and makes a snack of him. As she hoisted Nitram back into the pilot’s seat, Mindfang found herself wondering what it was that had Meulin so anxious about what she was going to do with him earlier. She lightly brushed against Leijon’s mind, only to find thoughts of concern for the young man’s well-being, which she returned with reassurances that he was safe and should remain so. With that, they boarded the hovership Mindfang arrived in and settled into the cabin.
Once Leijon had stashed her meagre belongings in the back, she climbed into the seat beside Spinneret and clutched on to the seat handles tightly. Her terror at the idea of flying hit Mindfang like a brick; Spinneret continued sending soothing vibes towards her guest as she prepared the ship for launch, which seemed to help, or at least persuaded her to relax her grip on the chair somewhat. A few moments later, the hovership smoothly lifted off the ground and Mindfang sent it across the hilly terrain as low as she could keep it until she reached the open ocean.
The water glowed with the bright reflection of the green moon. Meulin was transfixed, watching the waves pass underneath the hovership, the crests sparkling like emeralds. She had been completely quiet since they departed and Mindfang prepared herself to break the silence.
“Soooooooo... Meulin...”
The woman broke away from looking out the side window and turned to face her rescuer. “Where we go?”
“That’s exactly what I need to talk with you about, actually,” Mindfang began. “I have a couple of safe places I can take you. The safest of them is an island out in the ocean. It’s not too far from shore, but so nondescript that no one bothers with visiting it. It’s a good sized one; there’s plenty for you to hunt, but nothing terribly frightening. There’s only one other permanent inhabitant there as well... Someone you know, as fate would have it.”
Leijon’s eyes widened; Spinneret could feel the curiousity pour out of her in tangible waves. “Who?”
This ought to be interesting, she thought as she prepared herself for a potentially ugly response. This is why I never breathed a word of her whereabouts to him. “He says he knew you from back when you were in an eduhive together. He also had a role in... how do I say this tactfully... letting you live, at great cost to himself. Horuss Zahhak. Darkleer.”
Mindfang let the name sit out there for a while. The sensations she was receiving from Disciple now were mixed and fluid as the tiny woman processed the name given to her and the implications it carried. Spinneret opted to leave her alone and focused on directing the hovership, although she hoped she’d get an answer before she needed to implement a course change.
A few minutes passed before Spinneret felt a hand tapping insistently at her shoulder. She looked over to see Meulin leaning over in her seat towards her as close as she could get; this startled Mindfang and she involuntarily jerked back in her seat. “Geez, girl... it’s okay! Relax! Obviously you have something to say; I can hear you just fine from your chair! Go ahead, I’m listening.”
Leijon swallowed. “Yes, go.”
“Go where, dear?”
“Go island. See Horuss. Maybe stay.”
Mindfang smiled kindly; she understood that Leijon wanted to see Darkleer before she made any decisions about living near him. Considering their history had both pleasant and dark moments, she didn’t blame the woman a bit. I dare say you’re going to be in for a surprise, Meulin. If he puts those huge arms around you, he might not ever let go... if he doesn’t drown you with tears first, that is! “That sounds like a plan. You’re welcome to stay as long as you like. If you ever decide you want to go elsewhere, I can arrange it, but I think we can come up with accommodations that just might suit you.”
This resulted in a slightly confused look from Leijon. Ah, yes, Mindfang thought, might need to turn the vocabulary down a bit for a while with her. She hasn’t spoken to anyone for almost forty sweeps, I’d wager. Maybe she’s forgotten a lot... “What I mean is: we can dig a hole for you. You can live in there and paint the walls if you want. That okay?”
A smile and an excited nod followed.
“All right, then. Let’s see what Horuss has to say about this. I suggest we find you a towel, first, though. You may get a touch... damp.”
Meulin replied with a knowing nod, as if to say ‘yep, that’s Horuss, all right.’ She put her fingers up to her blood stained face and started flicking them away and making ‘pshh pshh’ sounds, which sent Spinneret into gales of laughter.
“Yeah, that’s right! We’re most definitely talking about the same sweaty Horuss, aren’t we?”
Spinneret swore she could hear the oliveblood actually giggle. It was a sweet sound and one she found that she rather enjoyed.
“No! Stop! You fly into rock!”
“Relax,” said Mindfang as gently as she could. “That cliff face isn’t real.” She could tell that Leijon wasn’t convinced. “That tall chunk of rock you see is a holoprojection... what else can I call it... a fake. It hides our island. Horuss built it so no one would bother us. It keeps us safe.”
This information didn’t keep Meulin from pressing herself down into her seat as hard as she could as the hovership appeared poised to fly into a sheer wall of solid grey stone. She closed her eyes as it approached in the front windscreen... and a few seconds later, she dared to open them again to see that there was, in fact, an island below. A large landing pad was visible adjacent to a tall grey building with a blue arrow-like symbol over the front door.
With practiced skill, Mindfang guided the hovership towards the pad. She felt the nacelles swing into a vertical position to help provide a soft landing, and the ship touched down as gently as if it were placed on the ground by an unseen hand. A few moments later, she shut off the engines and told Meulin to wait inside the cockpit. Meulin nodded her acknowledgement and watched out the window as Mindfang made her way up to the building and went inside.
A few minutes later, the Marquise reappeared with a large figure trailing behind her. Leijon recognized him immediately and inhaled as her emotions began to swirl again. The Disciple closed her eyes and slumped down into her seat while she tried to compose herself for the reunion that was moments away.
“I don’t know what could possibly be so important that you would make me trot out here when I’m in the middle of such a signeighficant project...”
“Oh, give it a rest,” Mindfang admonished. “Trust me, you’re gonna want to see this. Did you bring your towel like I told you?”
“Of horse!” Horuss sniffed. “I’m just really at a loss as to what it is you’ve got to show me.”
Spinneret smiled as she made her way up to the hovership. She couldn’t see Meulin in the window but sensed her presence; the oliveblood’s heightened emotional state all but glowed to Mindfang’s empathic perception. “It’s not a ‘what’, my friend, but a ‘who’...” She sent Leijon another wave of relaxing thoughts and opened the door.
Horuss wasn’t sure what to make of the shaggy green and black figure sitting in the co-pilot’s chair... until she picked her head up and looked right at him. Her eyes were unmistakable: they both filled his dreams with grubhood memories and haunted his nightmares with visions of the horrors he’d perpetrated on her matesprit. “It... it can’t be! Hu... Huntress?”
Leijon nodded; she hadn’t been called that in many moons and the sound of it brought back a flood of memories for her. She slipped out of the seat and stood in front of the large man, uncertain what she should say or do next.
Darkleer took a long look at her: the girl he knew only as Huntress looked thin to the point of underfed and her face and clothes were covered in what could only be red and orange blood, but even through the mess of wild hair, there was no doubt as to her identity. He would forever remember her large eyes and how they looked at him with horror once and shocked gratitude shortly after. Zahhak could only wonder how she would see him now with so many sweeps passed. “I...” he tried, but his throat tightened before he could issue another word.
Mindfang watched with quiet interest. She was proud of how Zahhak had gotten his internal demons under control over the sweeps; he only sobbed about oliveblooded catgirls about every other perigee or so which, when compared to how he was when she met him, was a vast improvement. Spinneret was quite curious how this reunion would affect him; it obviously hinged on how Disciple responded, but she would have gambled everything she had on how he’d deal with it: a torrent of indigo tears.
Judging from what was unfolding before her now, she’d have won that bet: Darkleer couldn’t even speak as sweeps of guilt and grief overwhelmed him and he sunk to one knee. His long straight hair almost touched the ground as his head dipped forward. He tried to speak but no words came forth; he was simply overcome and nothing he could do would stop this outpouring of emotion.
There was, however, something someone else could do and Mindfang even felt a lump forming in her own throat as Leijon gently placed a hand on his shoulder. She squatted down beside him and placed her head up against his own. His heaving sobs shook her, but she held her ground and quietly said, “Is okay. No cry. I give you.”
His breath hitched as he heard her speak. “Wh... wha?”
Mindfang could feel how Meulin’s demeanour changed as soon as she realized that Darkleer felt nothing but remorse for what happened where the Signless was concerned and she could tell that Leijon was genuine in her offer of absolution. “She’s saying she forgives you, Horuss.”
Zahhak tried to absorb the impact of this, and it took him a while before he was able to lift his head to look at Huntress. Even through wet eyes, he could tell she certainly looked the part: smeared with blood and feral looking, but once he heard her voice, he was sure. He could just barely believe it was even possible. Horuss managed a smile and put his arms around her, a gesture she returned. After a few moments like this, he whispered, “Thank you.”
Although she could only sense the feelings of one of them directly, the look of joy and relief on the face of the other was plain enough for Spinneret to see. It was her own emotions that had snuck up on her that caused her to leave them alone and begin the walk behind the tall gray structure to where her own hive was located. As she went inside, she had to brush a couple of tears away from her eyes, but she knew it would be far more difficult to wipe away her smile.