Into the Mouth of the Spider

Requiem of the Moth S02 C09

When they had word of the first victims, the entire drip house sprang into frantic action, trying to control the damage, inspect their remaining stock, investigate.

This time, there is oppressive gloom, an atmosphere of defeat thick in the air. Usira finds his parents and uncle in the study. “Who is it this time?” he asks, closing the door. Selin and Velin are unpacking—he wants to spare them as long as possible.

“Lerythis,” his father says.

Usira leans against the shelf filled to bursting with thick ledgers: detailed records of every moth order they have ever received and delivered to the clans, going all the way back to the first Isvalri and the founding of their drip house. Now, his father is bent over the latest book on the desk and his mother perches on the only chair, arms crossed. His uncle lingers by the rickety tea table as if he wished to melt into the wall.

Finally, his mother snaps her fingers. “We’ll simply have to tighten our belts and work harder.”

“Nachai has pulled out too,” his uncle whispers. “I don't have to tell you that we only have two small deliveries for the next three twists¹.” Despite their commoner status, the Nachai spice merchants are rich and resourceful enough to be able to afford moths—and they’ve always paid well. If they have gone over to the competition… “Our belts will have to be tighter than a dead bat’s wings,” Usira mutters.

“Keep your opinions to yourself,” his mother hisses at him. For once, no one protests and Usira bows his head. She is right. His every thought should be bent toward helping his family, not exercising sarcasm.

“What about the Noe?” his father asks.

The hope in his gaze stabs Usira in the chest. “The Noe clan might be able to help us but I’ll have to tread carefully. They’re conscious of their reputation too. Better to assume they’ll side with their fellow clanspeople.”

His father nods. “Our neighbours, too, aren’t willing to stick out their necks for us. They would rather burrow down with their clients than risk exposure.”

His mother snorts. “Mantises. They’re only waiting to snatch up our clients once we fall.”

“We won’t lose all our clients,” Usira reasons. “The smaller clans stay with us because they can’t afford to build up a relationship with a new drip house. We’ll get out of this soon and then our best clients will return.”

“Oh?” His mother tilts her head. “You have a plan then. Do tell us how we can assist.”

“It’s better that you don’t know.” Better they don’t know he is betting on Noe Yun again. He can always admit to his gamble after it has paid off. If it does. If it doesn’t… he will think of something else. For his family, he will do anything.

In his chamber, he finds a tiny piece of parchment on his bed. It reads: When you see no way out, a hot bath can relax and stretch the mind towards new approaches. There is no signature but Usira knows.

---

After a short rest, he goes out to appeal to Caxian Yulie again. As planned, Yun is present.

Usira’s heart races when he hands over the evidence. “I trust you.”

He turns away quickly. As he descends the stairs, he can’t help but imagine Yun’s frozen expression. Once upon a time, he would’ve only seen cold disdain in it. Now he suspects what the Vessi is hiding is fear. Of what? Of getting too close, of showing weakness that can be exploited by others. Yun doesn’t know that emotional bonds can lend strength as well.

Usira doesn’t know if he will ever learn. All he can do it provide an example.

On the streets, there are whispers, furtive glances in his direction. Usira’s suspicions are confirmed when he gets back to the drip house: A new handful of clan member has been struck down by the illness. Clan Meruun is almost as powerful as Noe, certainly more verbose about their influence.

It is also the first clan that has consumed no pupae, only adult moths, thinking themselves safe. What Usira said to Yun just a drip or two ago has been disproved and with that, Usira has lost his last asset: his expertise.

It is a tense time. Usira waits for the thinnest sliver of news, the smallest hint that his family has been redeemed. Every time he retires to his chamber, he wonders if he will still have work to do after he wakes up. One morning, waiting has become unbearable. Avoiding his family, Usira slips out the back door and visits clan Caxian. He is not surprised when he is turned away yet again.

When the servant hisses about calling the guard, he brushes it off. They wouldn’t go so far as to arrest him, would they?

He heads straight for the neighbourhood bathhouse.

After a soak that does nothing to relax his stiff muscles, he spots a familiar bland face slipping out of the courtyard. He lingers five stalagmite drips, then follows. Melyi waits by a nearby hole-in-the-wall eatery that sells candied roots and algae. When Usira approaches, the vendor is holding out a medium-sized bag. Her gaze slides to his lavender robes and she recoils. “Away from my food, poisoner.”

Usira is speechless. He moves only when Melyi touches his hand, following him down the street. Melyi offers the bag. “Well met, old friend. I thought you could use a snack, bathing saps your energy.”

“Not only bathing.” Grateful for the support, Usira pops a handful of candy into his mouth. Sugar crunches between his teeth and they walk. Usira falls into their ruse of old friendship as if acting were his daily fare. Perhaps he has missed his calling.

“Your family has been facing difficulties, to say the least. It is admirable how well you’ve held up, given the circumstances.”

“We’re at the end of our rope.” Usira glances at his companion. “You already knew that when you left the message. I would be curious to know how you got into my chamber—deep inside the house, with no windows.”

Melyi smiles thinly. “Now, I wouldn’t want to give away all my secrets so early in our relationship, would I?”

“You seem to know everything about me already, it would only be fair to give me something in return. What is it that you’re offering?”

“I… might be able to help you.”

“Might?” When Usira gestures, Melyi offers him the bag again. The sugar mollifies.

“The cause of the illness has been identified. You must know by now that it will take more than that to clear your name. My position comes with a certain amount of leverage. The way I see it, you’re one step away from being convicted of poisoning clan members. I might be able to pull some strings to prevent that. You're valuable to us although I can't yet say how. I don’t want to make empty promises. You’ve heard enough of those, I’d imagine.”

Usira stares at the buildings they pass: a tailor, a jeweller, another eatery. Poisoner. The notion that his family could be condemned as criminal doesn’t seem so absurd anymore. They could lose more than their reputation—and yet Yun has betrayed his trust once again. “What is it that you want in return? With our name ruined, there’s little left to give.”

Melyi is shaking his head. “This offer has no strings attached. Consider it a sign of good will, expressing my wish to keep in touch. You can repay me when your family has recovered.”

Far from reassured, Usira narrows his eyes but Melyi’s face reveals nothing. “Very well,” he says slowly. “I hate to say it but I’m out of options. Any help you could lend would be appreciated.”

They turn a corner and enter an open space, an empty basket lift at the far wall. Usira squints up the cliff, trying and failing to remember which clan mansion looms above. “Is there a way for me to contact you?”

Melyi hums, crunching on a handful of snacks before he replies. “If you must, leave a note in the Elimen’s Mouth behind the bathhouse. I can’t guarantee that urgent messages will reach me in time but you can trust us to keep an eye on your family.”

“Like you have been,” Usira states.

“Like we have been,” Melyi confirms. “I will do my best.” With a bow, he leaves.

Usira flees the basket lifter’s suspicious glance and circles back to his drip house. He has been away long enough. Time to get back to damage control.

Time to strike Yun from his thoughts once and for all.

Author Notes

I’ve loved Venice ever since I was eighteen and my grandma took me on a day trip to the lagoon (she lived only a few hours away, close to the Italian border). Possibly even before then, since I read Thomas Mann’s Death in Venice. I also love history and sometimes pick up books like John Berendt’s City of Falling Angels and Thomas Madden’s Venice. A New History. They’re great worldbuilding inspiration too. For example, would you have guessed that large parts of the Sedrivar political system are inspired by La Serenissima, the Republic of Venice ca. 13th-14th century?

Like Venice, the Sedrivar have a noble-born ruler—the Doge vs. the Vesilim—but also a council of representatives—the Great Council of Venice vs. the Sethri (Forty). Like Venice, the Sedrivar have ten officials responsible for interior security—the Council of Ten vs. the Vessi (Ten). And like Venice, the Sedrivar have a system for anonymously reporting suspicious individuals or activity—the Bocche Dei Leoni vs. the Elimen’s Mouth.

In Venice, these were stone lion wall reliefs scattered around the city that served as post boxes, with a hole in the lion’s mouth for posting reports. These were then evaluated by the Ten according to a complex system many pages of instructions long, designed to reject almost all claims unless there was a strong reason to believe in their accuracy. The Elimen’s Mouths are the same, except they are modelled after the Elimen, large cave-dwelling spiders, instead of lions.

Unlike in Venice (as far as we know), it seems that some Elimen’s Mouths are being used by more than one faction in the city…

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