There was another new person in the spire.

It had been some time since she’d had anything to do but wander the halls and sometimes visit the library. For all that Salem’s collection of books was vast the subject matter was often dull. Genealogies and histories of a past she had no connection to were not much to her liking.

So she stood up from her place next to the pool of darkness in the basement and started making her way up the stairs. At least the constant walking was getting her in shape. Whatever lingering pain she had felt before was gone now. She was like a taut spring, ready to jump into action at a moment’s notice.

If only there was something to jump into.

She was going to have to talk to Salem about it.

The man was kneeling in the throne room, near the place where Cinder had rested just a few days ago. He was bowing forwards, head almost on the ground while Salem took her place on her throne.

Akelarre slid into the room with only the gentle murmur of her robes shifting to signal her presence, but that was enough for the man.

He jumped to his feet and moved backwards, placing himself between Salem and Akelarre, both hands raised in what she recognized as a fighting stance. He was huge. A slab of meat with shoulders twice as broad as Akelarre’s, and he towered above her even from across the room. “My queen, is this young woman an intruder?”

“If I were an intruder I would not last very long, I think,” she said.

“Perhaps you are right. I’m afraid that that is not enough for me to dismiss you as a threat.”

“Hazel,” Salem said. Her voice was even and measured. If it were not for all the time she spent speaking to the queen of the Grimm then perhaps Akelarre wouldn’t have noticed the edge of amusement in her tone. “She is a guest. Please treat her with respect.”

The man, Hazel, stood a little taller and ran a hand through his coarse beard. “Of course, my queen. Forgive me,” he said. His eyes narrowed as she moved out of the shadow of the doorway and into the red lantern light of the throne room. Then they widened.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Hazel,” she said.

“My lady Salem,” he said. “Do you perhaps have a daughter?”

“She is not my child,” Salem said, though there wasn’t any accusation in the words, just a statement of fact. “Akelarre is a... surprise. An enemy of an old foe who resurfaced, quite literally, just recently. She had been in my care ever since.” Salem leaned back into her throne before gesturing Akelarre closer. “Come. I have been meaning to give you something, Akelarre, and with Hazel here there is no better time.”

Curiosity pushing her forwards. She walked over to where Salem was waiting, then sat on the arm of the throne when Salem patted it. She looked down when the woman started to peel the robe from off her back.

The warm air of the room brushed over her naked chest but she felt no discomfort. Hazel averted his gaze politely. “What did you want to give me?” she asked Salem. Perhaps it was a new robe?

A pair of Grimm Seers flew into the room, their tentacles wrapped around an oblong black object. “I have been considering giving you something like this for some time,” Salem said. “Do not think that I did not notice your wandering. I suspect that you will soon extend your explorations to beyond the Spire. It would not do for you to do so with only one arm.”

The Seers stopped next to Salem and Akelarre was able to make out the object in their grip. It was, as Salem had said, an arm. Pitch black with a bony elbow, forearm shaped like bones with a gap between them, and fingers that ended in claws of the same bone-like material that she recognized from so many Grimm.

“It’s very pretty,” Akelarre said.

Salem made a noise at the back of her throat, her happy sound. “Thank you,” she said as she took hold of the arm with the ease of someone lifting a stick. She pressed it against Akelarre’s stump, the shadowy flesh flowing over the girl's severed elbow, halfway up to her shoulder. “This will hurt,” she warned.

Akelarre just nodded.

Salem was right; it hurt quite a bit, like someone had dunked her arm in acid. Her spine stiffened and she gasped before feeling a most particular sensation along her side, as though she had a limb that had fallen asleep and was regaining its circulation with agonizing slowness.

Then she felt it bite into her. Pure hate for every living soul. Without thought or reason. It hated her, and it wanted to consume her, to burn her soul out and make her body its puppet. The arm on the end of her stump writhed, becoming more monstrous, the palm snapping around to face her as a single eye opened on its palm, a white mask surfacing around it.

It wasn't part of her swarm, she couldn't control it that way. But it was a part of her now, she could feel it and the danger it posed. So Akelarre did what came naturally. She leaned on it. Her memories were murky, but the weight of them was undiminished. Pain, sacrifice and control. Millions at her command. Her will rolled over the Grimm attached to her body like a boulder rolling over a bug.

An instant later the arm snapped into a human shape. A perfect mirror of her real one. One white, one black. She moved her new arm, inspecting the bone-tipped fingers then moving the hand to grip the empty air. She turned it over and with a push of intent, white bone plates surfaced out of the black, forming an insectile carapace, while the nails lengthened and thickened into rending claws.

Releasing the change and letting it go back to normal, she looked over to Salem. “Thank you.”

Salem nodded. “You are welcome, of course. Did you wish to try your luck against Hazel? He is a very capable fighter. He won’t injure you, right, Hazel?”

“No ma’am.” His gaze locked onto Akelarre’s. “I would be honoured to teach you how to better defend yourself.” His smile grew a little more eager when Akelarre jumped off the throne’s arm and moved towards him.

“You are very tall,” she said matter-of-factly. “And you seem strong. Fighting you would be difficult.”

He nodded once. “You have already learned one of the most important lessons of combat, it seems; knowing when to cut your losses. If my queen wishes for me to teach you, then I suspect it will be a very interesting endeavor.”

“Indeed,” Salem said. “Akelarre here seems to have grown weary of my company. Some training would serve as both entertainment and to help her improve her fighting abilities, if she ever needs them. But that will be for another time. Hazel, please take the night to prepare for Akelarre’s training regimen.”

He bowed at the waist to Salem, then did the same to Akelarre, though not nearly as deeply. “Of course, ma’am. Miss Akelarre, it was a pleasure meeting you. I look forward to working together.” With a snap of heel on heel he turned around and walked towards the exit.

Akelarre eyed him as he moved away, then turned back towards Salem when he was gone. “You said I could go out exploring?” she said.

“You are not beholden to me,” Salem replied. “Come. Dinner will be served soon.” She began to walk towards the back of the room where a smaller doorway led into one of the many maze-like corridors of the Spire.

Akelarre followed behind her and soon caught up enough to walk by Salem’s side. “Thanks for the arm,” she said as she looked down at the new limb. Her fingers felt a little stiff, but also much stronger than her natural arm. It was going to take some getting used to.

“You thanked me already.”

Akelarre looked up to her, then back down. “Thanks anyway.”

Salem didn’t say anything, but there was an air of self-satisfaction to her as she walked into the dining room and marched to the far end of the massive table that took up a disproportionate amount of space in the room. She sat at the head of the table, then gestured at the far end where another place setting waited.

Akelarre looked at the empty plate and utensils that were obviously meant for her, then all the way across to where Salem was sitting. She let a few of her bugs slip out from her robes and hair and from the ceiling where they always waited.

One of Salem’s eyebrows perked as the creatures pulled the plates and forks and knives along, scraping them on the marble slab until they were placed just to her right. Akelarre pulled the seat next to Salem back and sat down.

Salem’s eyebrow remained where it was, almost hidden in her hairline as Akelarre shuffled in her seat and wondered if she did something wrong. Then Salem relaxed and clapped her hands lightly.

“I hope you don’t mind, but the meal tonight is nothing too terribly complicated,” she said as a group of Seers slipped into the room carrying trays covered with silver domes.

One of the Seers places a tray before Akalarre’s setting and pulled the bell away to reveal a sort of meaty pasta dish covered in a layer of golden-brown cheese.

There was no waiting or signal. Salem dug into her meal with careful motions and Akelarre did the same. “So,” Salem said as she swirled a crystal cup full of crimson-red wine. “What are your intentions for the near future?”

Akelarre didn’t have to think on it for very long. “I would like to explore around the Spire a little. Maybe see places where there are humans?” She knew that there were still pockets of civilization around. Salem goal wasn’t the destruction of all life, so she allowed small settlements to grow and flourish for a time before letting her Grimm remove them. Like a gardener pruning a lawn.

“Hm.” Salem said as she took another bite. “There are nomadic tribes that travel close to the Land of Darkness. They are a cunning bunch, tough and generally generous with those they encounter in need of aid. I have used them before. When resources grow scarce they can become desperate. They make for good followers. A few settlements still exist near the shores. Though those are mostly made up of... well I suppose you would call them cultists.”

“Are there any cities around?” Akelarre asked.

“None very close. Crucible, the content on which we are, is isolated from most of the inhabited world. The nearest large settlement would be... Patch, to the south-east. You would need to travel across a great distance by sea to reach it,” she said before turning to one of her Seers. “Fetch me a map.”

The Grimm bobbed once before turning and moving out of the room. “I don’t think I can travel far over water,” Akelarre said. “I’ll need to make bigger fliers.”

“I’ll let you ride atop a Leviathan if you wish. My Grimm will do you no harm. The only danger you may face will be natural and on account of humanity.”

Akelarre nodded. She could feel a smile tugging at her lips at the idea of moving around and exploring the world at large. “And if I return, will there still be a place for me here?” Akelarre bit her lip, but stopped as soon as she saw Salem’s eyes straying to them.

Salem paused with her fork raised, then lowered it to her plate. She looked up, red eyes meeting red for a long moment. The queen of the Grimm was the first to break the eye contact. “These past few months with you have been quite enjoyable; though you have been a quiet presence you were not an unwelcome one. It feels, perhaps unfairly, as though I have a daughter again.”

A weight settled into Akelarre’s stomach and she floundered, uncertain of what to do at that. Slowly, carefully, she reached out and touched the hand Salem wasn’t using, cool fingers wrapping around cool skin. “I don’t think I’ve had a mother in a long time,” Akelarre said. “But, but if I did, I hope she would have been like you. I’m pretty sure you’re not my mother, but if you want to be... a friend, then I would really like that.” She grinned at Salem.

The woman returned the grin with a demure smile. “I suspect that I would enjoy that.”