Tia? I stammered in my mind. Ashleigh? But my inner companions didn’t answer. Instead, a new voice penetrated my brain.
Well, hello, I heard in my thoughts. It’s very rare to encounter a girl who can speak with her mind. You’re not the typical offering. It seems you wandered into the wrong place at the wrong time, my dear.
Now desperate, I tried to shut out everything and reach for Tia and Ashleigh. But try as I might, I couldn’t find them at all. A feeler slammed me back against the pole. It felt wrong not having access to my inner companions, like a part of me was missing or drugged. The feeler pinched me. “Ow!” I cried. When I looked down, my fuzzy brain realized that it wasn’t a feeler but one of the fangs now embedded in my thigh.
Now, now, don’t worry about your inability to communicate. My venom makes a lot of things difficult.
The trees of the forest had started disappearing. One by one they slowly faded from existence. The edges of my vision were becoming white. My body jerked once. Twice. It wasn’t painful, not really, though it should have been. The venom must have paralyzed me, because all I felt was a tugging sensation and the slight tickle of the hairs on the spider as the legs brushed over me.
Oh, bother, the voice said. I don’t like it when they tie you up so tightly. They know I don’t like my prey damaged.
I felt tears dripping down my face, but I couldn’t lift a hand to wipe them away. With a last jerk, my body fell forward, but I was picked up around my waist before I hit the ground. Prickly hairs rubbed against my back and legs, and then I was moving quickly through the clearing. The last thing I remembered before the world went dark was hearing Ahmose scream.
When I came to my senses, I was staring up at the soft light of a full moon. My leg throbbed slightly, but the pain felt dull and distant, more like an echo than anything that needed attention. I rocked gently back and forth in a comfortable sleeping bag, and the night air felt cool and soothing on my skin. The stars twinkled high above me. What a strange dream I’d had. I wanted to call Ahmose’s name, but my tongue was swollen and my mouth tasted funny.
A woman was humming nearby. Ah, good, you’re awake, she said. Her voice was comforting. Like a beloved aunt. I’m almost done with your tapestry.
That sounds nice, I thought and settled back, letting my mind drift as I thought about handsome knights, castles, and beautiful tapestries.
A few minutes passed, but something prevented me from falling back to sleep. An irritation stirred, telling me that my pleasant dream was wrong. I blinked and realized my eyes were very dry. In fact, there was dirt in them and leaves on my face. Shifting in my sleeping bag, I tried to lift a hand, but my arms were stuck. I looked down and stared uncomprehendingly at the white fibers around my body. All at once, everything came back to me. The spider!
“Whhaa…” I licked my lips and tried again. “What have you done to…to me?”
There was movement to my left and then the rustle of leaves overhead. I searched the shadows through the spinning leaves that drifted down. I’ve been busy working on your tapestry. I do one for all my girls.
“What?” I asked, twisting my head, feeling grateful to get the leaves off of my face.
I’ll show you, the spider said. Just be patient.
As I hung there swinging back and forth, the spider danced around, invisible in the dark, and my limbs started tingling. I flexed my fingers and summoned my claws. It took several moments, but finally they appeared. I knew now that even if I couldn’t hear Tia or Ashleigh they must still be with me if I could harness the power of the sphinx. As quietly as I could, I sawed back and forth on the sticky fibers that held me captive.
“Where’s Ahmose?” I asked to distract the spider as I worked.
Do you mean your man? He’s here. I don’t usually eat males. They’re too…gamey for my taste. My preference is women. They’re much softer, you see. They dissolve more easily. Makes for a smooth and satisfying meal. But in this case, I’ll give your man a try. He looks clean and might be tasty if I soften him up enough. Of course, he’d have to wait a while. Two of you this size is entirely too much to eat at once. It would just ruin my figure to be that greedy.
I paused when I heard the word dissolve and then continued sawing even faster. Finally, I got one arm free and then a leg.
Stop wriggling so much, the spider said. You’ll ruin your tapestry.
Ignoring her, I freed my other arm and my leg. I then grabbed on to the web, swinging wildly as the cocoon holding me dropped to the forest floor. The line of web was sticky and dense. Looking down, I saw dozens and dozens of translucent ropes crossing and looping between thick branches. I reached above me and grabbed another thread, and then as carefully as I could, started making my way across, hand over hand and foot over foot, toward the nearest tree.
My foot almost slipped off, but I righted myself easily enough and kept going. When two threads crossed, I felt along the new thread until I felt comfortable. Then I whipped around the line bridging them to go down the new path. I finally spotted another cocoon several levels below in what I would guess to be roughly an Ahmose shape. I changed direction.
It took me several minutes to reach him, and though I pushed on his cocoon, slapped his exposed face, and called his name, I got no reaction. I wasn’t sure what to do. With the power of the sphinx, I was strong. Maybe even strong enough to carry him. But I couldn’t make my way across the web and lug him along, too. I decided I could at least try to free him and hope he’d wake up before I was finished.
I was only halfway through freeing him when the spider discovered me. There you are, she said. There’s no point in doing that. He won’t wake up for at least another hour. He’s a big one. Had to give him a double dose. Come along now. It’s time to see your tapestry. The spider, who had somehow crept up on me without me sensing her, which was an amazing feat considering my enhanced senses, shot out a web that wrapped around my ankle.
Before I could even mutter a word, the spider took off, and my leg was yanked above me. She dragged me behind her. Each web vibrated at my passage, and once she thumped my head against a tree branch. Oh, sorry about that, she called down to me as she continued to climb. Hope I didn’t bash in your brain. That’s my favorite part.
I didn’t bother to answer her and tried again to reach Tia and Ashleigh. Neither of them responded. How was I supposed to access the power of Wasret when Tia and Ashleigh were missing? I thought.
I’ve blocked out the other two minds, if that’s what you want to know, the spider said, as if reading my thoughts.
The beast paused, reeling in the long web that attached to my ankle and pulling me up toward her. When I was in the position she wanted me in, which happened to be at the end of a web attached to the uppermost limb of a tree, she moved her giant body. She circled the web like a gymnast before locking my leg in place. I shifted so I could sit up in the crook of the tree, which was so thin it barely supported my weight. Luckily, the web was strong enough to support the weight of an elephant.
“What do you mean, you blocked out the other two minds?” I asked as the pounding blood in my head spread back to my limbs.
Ananse, the spider, moved out on the web, her legs walking along the thread as delicately as a ballerina. Her gemstone eyes reflected the light of the twinkling stars above. They were distracting, she said. The tapestry would be too complicated if I included them. Besides, they would only muddy the overall theme.
“My tapestry has a theme?” I asked.
Oh yes! the spider said, an edge of excitement in her tone. I used to weave the cosmos, darling. I’m the one who connected each planet to a star and each orbiting moon to a planet. The remnants of those great pieces can still be seen in the night sky, though most can no longer derive meaning from the fragments.
No web was greater than mine. No territory vaster. The tales that men and gods spun when they looked at the stars came from my great celestial tapestries. Nowadays it’s mostly guesswork on their parts. Only I
know the true stories. Only I have followed the origins of the cosmos before it was born. Now I just remain here in almost total obscurity, weaving the boring and pitiful tapestries of an inconsequential tribe of islanders. Still, I like to practice my skills. Even if the subject material is dreary, my work is still as beautiful as I can make it.
“I see,” I said. “But wouldn’t you rather keep a person as interesting as I am around for a bit? You know, just in case I inspire you to create more works of art?”
Oh, I don’t think that will be necessary. You see, now that the tribe has sacrificed the two of you, they are likely to ignore my needs for a few years. Besides, each person only gets one tapestry. Now that I’ve seen yours, I won’t need to keep you around. Of course, there’s also the fact that my web is, in itself, venomous. The poison has been seeping into your veins for many hours already.
I looked down at my leg, and my skin suddenly felt hot. “P…poison?” I said sickly.
Yes. Oh, it would take days to actually kill you. Weeks, even. You’ll be long gone before then, I promise you.
“Ah, good,” I said. “I’d hate to have to waste away.”
I wouldn’t want that either. I prefer my meals as nutritious as possible, and the web saps your energy, leaving less for me.
“Right. So, let’s see this tapestry you made for me, then.”
Patience, dear. Patience. It’s not something you just toss at somebody. It’s a work of art. It needs to be appreciated as such.
“Oh, I know art. Have I told you about the museum I frequent in New York? Lots of artwork there.”
Really? They keep their art on display?
“Absolutely. Sometimes they rotate exhibits between different museums around the world. That way everyone has a chance to appreciate it.”
I would like that. To have people see what I do and get the chance to talk about it.
Drawing up the leg that wasn’t bound to the tree, I wrapped my arms around it and said, “Then tell me. Not just about my tapestry, but about the other things you’ve created. I’m happy to listen. I’m a captive audience, if you will,” I said with a small laugh, betting the spider wouldn’t catch the joke.
She didn’t. My purpose in distracting the spider was twofold. I wanted to postpone my impending death, and I wanted to buy Ahmose time to wake up. My hope was that I’d sawn through enough of his cocoon that he could break out without my help. With any luck, he’d get away.
Well, to understand what and how I create, I’d have to start at the beginning.
“Fine with me,” I said.
I cringed, knowing that if there was any way for us to get out of this intact, then we had very little time to find Amon and Asten before Cherty left. But one thing at a time. First I had to survive the spider.
I wasn’t always the best weaver, you know, she began. Others of my kind were much more talented. But I was a clever youngling, hovering in the shadows of my elders. I was an expert mimic. That came in very handy.
My thigh wasn’t bleeding, which bothered me. Perhaps something in the spider venom had made the blood clot. It didn’t hurt either, even though I could clearly see the puncture wound. It didn’t go through my thigh, but I was sure the muscle was severely damaged.
Meanwhile, the spider continued, When I was assigned to weave the stories of kings and empires, I watched carefully how they rose above their peers and seized power. I took their wisdom and their craftiness into myself, and though I wove their triumphs, I purposely hid their methods for rising to greatness. I became a flatterer and a cheat. You must understand that only one of my kind can be a Weaver of Destiny, and that was what I aspired to be more than anything.
One by one I manipulated the threads, seeming to give my enemies that which they wanted the most. Then I pulled the weave out from under them, trapping them in my web. I then devoured them and in doing so, absorbed all that they were into myself. I grew ever more powerful. Soon it became clear that no obstacle could stop my progress.
Finally, there were only two of us left: me and my master, Sibriku the wise. I spent centuries learning at his side, growing ever stronger and more powerful.
When I was ready, I challenged him to a game. I told him that fate would determine who would triumph. If it was to be him, then I would roll on my back and let him absorb me, but if I won, then I would become the most powerful creature that had ever existed and learn all the secrets of the cosmos. I then did something that Sibriku did not expect.
“What was that?”
I cheated. He did not expect it. This was how I beat him. How I beat all of them. But you remember he was called Sibriku the wise. He came to recognize my duplicity, but it was too late. Sibriku rolled over on his back, and I dissolved his body, absorbing his knowledge into myself.
“But now you are alone,” I said. “There’s no one left of your kind in the entire cosmos except yourself. No one to record your accomplishments. No one to help you spin your celestial tapestries.”
That is right. Soon after Sibriku’s death, I realized my folly. In gaining all the wisdom of the cosmos, I destroyed the one thing that drove me, for there was no one left to best. I tried to devise a new path for myself and tore into the fabric of creation. But even I, with all my wisdom, couldn’t put it back together.
Then the gods were born. It was a result of the cosmos trying to restore equilibrium after what I had done. I retreated and watched as a powerful seer arose. We peered into each other’s eyes, and I could not bear to see my reflection, so I hid in the deepest, darkest place in the cosmos. When the Unmaker came into power, I trembled, knowing he rose so that I might fall. I created this place where all the lost and broken things could hide. I let go of my celestial web and fell.
Now, here I am. Alone. Forgotten. Purposeless. I’ve tried to content myself with what I have and the fact that I still exist. But so many eons have passed, and I have given up hope that I will ever weave a celestial web again. Now I only feel pleasure when I eat. Speaking of which. Come, Lily. It is time.
I wasn’t ready to die. My great destiny was apparently to be supper for a cosmic spider. Not the way I thought I would go. Then again, a thousand strange ways to die had crossed my mind since I’d learned what I was. What had happened to me. I suppose death by spider wasn’t the worst of them.
Ananse came closer and drew a sharp fang along the web binding my leg, freeing me.
If you like, you may come of your own accord, she said. I will show you the way to your tapestry. It isn’t far. If you aren’t too squeamish, you may ride on my back. Oh, and don’t think to use your tiny claws on me. They would break against my skin. My hide is older than your own sun and made of much tougher stuff.
“Well, I guess I’d be safer riding on your back.”
That is wise. You may climb my leg. There’s a place behind my head where you should be comfortable.
Awkwardly, I rose to my feet. My injured leg felt stiff and swollen, but there was still enough strength in my arms for me to pull myself up the jointed spider leg. I grabbed on to the stiff bristles, and when I was seated comfortably on Ananse’s back, she set off.
The giant spider moved quickly through the trees, her body twisting and turning lithely on the strong webbing. When she came to the end of a web, she leapt into the air, her big body almost floating like a kite as she spun out new webbing behind her. She landed on a branch and then leapt to another. The spider pulled herself up, me holding tightly to her back.
She headed toward a large tree. The largest I’d seen in the jungle, in fact. Ducking under branches, she wound her way around the trunk. I began to notice tiny bulges in the webbing. I guess people weren’t all she ate, though most of the animals in the jungle were probably too small to feed a creature as large as Ananse. Finally, at the tip-top of the tree, which swayed slightly under her weight, she turned and showed me her handiwork.
There it is, she said, almost reverently. Tell me, do you think it’s accurate?
I gasped so
ftly. There, twinkling in the moonlight, was the most intricate web I’d ever seen. Dew glistened along the translucent threads, making them sparkle, and there was a slight green sheen to the material. It took time for my eyes to adjust so that I could see the depth of it and make out the shapes. When it finally came into focus, I realized it was a three-dimensional piece of art and what I was seeing was only the surface.
“It glows?” I asked, puzzled by the pulsating light in the web.
The spider answered, A little. I used to be able to control all the colors in the cosmos, but this one is all I can manage now.
“It’s beautiful,” I said, in utter awe of what she’d created.
Yes, yes, but is it accurate?
“I’m…I’m not sure what you mean.”
Look closer, Lily. What do you see?
The spider moved down the trunk of the tree, her long legs clinging to the branches, and when she did, the web shifted into a series of pictures, like scenes in a great mosaic masterpiece. Shapes exploded before my eyes. I saw the entire skyline of New York. A brilliant sunset that cast tall shadows. Central Park had been re-created in great detail. Even the horse carriages twinkled in the moonlight. In the crook of a tree I could make out pyramids and starbursts of light that looked like tiny fireworks.
Ananse started walking down a long branch, and I marveled at how large her web design actually was. I thought the entirety of it was contained between two large trees, but when she turned, there was another section, this one a re-creation of my grandmother’s farm. It was slightly different than I remembered. In the graveyard there was not one tombstone, but three. I wanted to go closer to see if the spider knew what names might be engraved there, but the angle we were at prevented me from seeing it in focus.
We went down another tree trunk, and on each level as we descended to the jungle floor, there was another scene. One was of a little countryside church and a bride and groom standing at the door, him carrying her down the steps while a few onlookers cheered. Another showed a vast desert with flat plateaus and a valley full of a living crop that quivered with pulsating light.