What is this?
The moon began to edge out from behind the cloud and she saw a white, weblike filament stuck to her arm and legs. In fact, it was tautly woven between several trees.
Oh, gods, a giant spiderweb.
Her only hope now was The Horse.
Something quivered down the length of the web. The moon had moved far enough out from behind the cloud to penetrate some of the deep shadows with light, revealing other creatures trapped like Karigan. A doe kicked, trying to free herself. It looked like she had been at it for some time. Her head sagged in exhaustion, and her body heaved in staggered breaths. Birds, squirrels, bats, a raccoon, and even a wolf were ensnared.
The wolf snapped at the air and howled, a rending howl that churned Karigan’s insides. His call wasn’t answered, and he whimpered. Karigan had heard howls like that on freezing winter nights. They had terrified her. Yet, all she could do now was pity the wolf.
On the ground behind her, almost hidden beneath a bush, was a heap of ivory bones, luminous in the dusky forest, and freshly stripped of flesh. Next to the bush was a pile of round, fist-sized objects, each the same tarnished silver of the creature. Was it her imagination, or did a couple vibrate? She passed her free hand over her eyes, uncertain of the reliability of her vision. It felt like someone was drubbing her head with a hammer, and she was dizzy.
More bones were scattered near the spherical objects, and she began to suspect that, like a fly caught in a spider’s web, the creature was not done with her.
Sounds of the battle between The Horse and the creature drew closer—the racket of hooves on carapace, the cracking of tree limbs, The Horse’s hard breaths, the snap of claws . . . The Horse backed through the underbrush, and Karigan could see the rise and fall of the creature’s claws as it herded him toward the web.
“Horse!” Karigan shouted. “It’s a trap!”
The Horse hesitated and glanced in her direction, as if suddenly understanding his predicament. The creature struck him with its tail, embedding the stinger into his neck. The Horse crashed to his side, and he didn’t move.
“Nooo!” Karigan wailed.
The creature prodded The Horse’s belly with an antenna. When he didn’t respond, it emitted a clicking sound, perhaps of approval. From The Horse, it sidled to the webbing, and moved up the line from the doe to the raccoon, then to Karigan. Eye stalks wavered as it inspected its prey. It poked her ribs with an antenna, and softly whistled to itself.
Karigan jerked away and slapped her free hand at the antenna. “Get away!” But already the creature’s attention was on the spherical objects. It nudged one or two with its claw to a more satisfactory position, then trundled away.
Karigan moaned. All was lost without The Horse. She was trapped and there was no escape. She hadn’t expected it to end this way. She thought she would reach Sacor City, and hand over the message directly to the king. She’d be a hero! If she was to be stopped, she thought it would have been by Immerez and his men, and they were horrible enough to contemplate. This monster was totally unexpected.
Moments passed and the wolf cried out with his dreadful howls. How long before the creature returned? How long before it would return to feed?
The scent of bayberry drifted to Karigan from her coat pocket. The little sprig of bayberry must have been crushed during her struggle with the creature, and now it did what Miss Bayberry said it would: “When you find resolve failing you, when all hope is lost, take a leaf and rub it between your fingers. The scent will refresh you, and perhaps you will think of me.” Hope swelled within her, and with it, courage. While she still lived, there might be a chance.
Miss Bunchberry had given her a bunchberry flower: “If you are in need of a friend, pluck a petal from the flower and let it drift in the wind.” She wished fervently that she could now be in the care of the Berry sisters. She needed a friend.
A crack split the air somewhere behind her. At first she couldn’t identify its source, then she glanced at the spherical objects. They vibrated and hairline fractures grew and spread across their smooth surfaces. Karigan sagged, but the webbing held her up. The spheres were eggs.
Antennae poked through. Tiny claws tapped on the insides of shells, and slimy silver bodies, miniatures of the parent creature, emerged wet and glistening. They slid over their brethren, one on top of the other, and scurried toward the web, attracted to the heat they sensed from those trapped in it. There was no doubt of what would be doing the feeding.
A creature crawled onto the toe of Karigan’s boot and she kicked it. It spun a yard away, but in a flurry of legs, feelers, and claws, it scurried toward her again. The animals struggled, too, but in their panic, only entangled themselves farther into the webbing.
An almost human scream drowned the moans of the animals. Karigan’s nerves stretched taut. The raccoon. She closed her eyes as if to silence its anguished cries. When the cries diminished, she opened her eyes again.
Three hatchlings crawled up her leg. She growled and shook them off, more angry now than fearful. The creatures had no right. No right. The hatchlings closest to her feet made a sickening crunching sound beneath the heel of her boot.
The bunchberry flower was in her hand. She couldn’t remember having pulled it out. The fragrance of the bayberry was intoxicating. If you are in need of a friend, pluck a petal . . . She would need an army of friends. She shook her leg, but this time the hatchlings hung on with their claws, antennae feeling the way up her leg.
She lowered the flower to her other hand which was stuck in the web, and pried off a single petal. ... and let it drift in the wind. As soon as the petal left her fingertips, a breeze swept it up, avoiding the webbing and entwined tree limbs, and carrying it out of sight above the treetops. Karigan sighed. At least she would die remembering her friends.