Chapter 14 Spider-Woven Surprises #3
Another string passes me, arcing from a treetop, swinging all the way across the clearing, and that’s when I see it. A tiny black speck with several legs.
So this clearing really is full of spiders.
Talking spiders.
Of course we speak! Why wouldn’t we? one says, and now it’s official. Talking and mind-reading spiders.
Yes, we can read your mind, and to be frank, it’s quite a boring place to be, another spider says, swinging by, its voice a deep baritone.
I bristle. I am not boring, I think.
You were. You’re improving, though, another says, high-pitched as the first. As if that should make me feel any better.
I shake my head. I can’t believe I’m speaking to spiders in my mind.
But I came here for a reason.
“I need a dress for the masquerade. Can… can you please help me?” Even though I said some potentially unkind things about you in my head a few seconds ago…
Depends, a voice says close to my ear, like a hiss. Can you pay?
I swallow, remembering the word unsettling. “How much?”
Which really is a useless question, considering I didn’t bring any coins. I don’t have much of anything to give, especially now that the necklaces aren’t working.
Just one moment of wonder is all, the spider says.
I couldn’t have heard it correctly. A moment of wonder?
That’s exactly what I said! that same voice is hissing, swinging close.
Okay. Fine, it just wants a moment of wonder. It isn’t hard to remember the last time I felt that feeling. It happened just hours ago.
The spiders are in my mind… So I close my eyes and think of that moment. I think of the wind upon my skin, my wings fluttering behind me, the sparkle of the sun across the emerald lake, the patches of Anyland below—
A spider tsks near my face. No. A memory from your home. That’s what we want to see.
Oh. From Heartland.
Well, that’s easy. I’ll just think of a moment of wonder from my life before this strange journey began.
I try.
I try some more.
See, I told you. No wonder in her, one of the spiders says.
“No, wait!” I say. “I’m thinking.”
And thinking. But there’s nothing. Just an endless string of the same routine that I told Ken about back in Summerland.
A life I really did find perfect. But now I’m starting to see how scheduled it was.
Regimented. Predictable, down to the minute.
Every single aspect controlled, as if my life was held in a fist.
No room for surprise. No room for wonder.
B-O-R-I-N-G, one of the spiders says, swinging right in front of my face.
And they’re kind of right. I—
I’m boring.
Beyond Sunny’s flying boat, I never did anything as adventurous in Heartland as I have in these last couple of days. I never sprouted wings, or walked through an ever-changing garden, or talked to spiders.
But that doesn’t mean I haven’t ever felt wonder.
I think harder, about the rare times something unexpected happened.
Like when Robin made my cereal into donuts in celebration of Boxing Day.
Or that time when Callie, Sunny, and I snuck out to the top of the tallest tower at Swancrest to launch a miniature hot-air balloon we made in class.
We wanted to see how high it could go. We wanted to see how long it would burn.
It didn’t make it far. It erupted into a firework, thanks to Sunny, who was quite pleased with himself. Still, I remember that moment, all of us crowded together, hope in our hearts. Wonder in our souls.
I think of Callie’s wide smile and Sunny’s roaring laugh.
The way they’ve comforted and been there for me ever since I was determined Fateless.
They never made me feel less than. They didn’t see me through the lens of my worth to society, but my worth simply as their friend.
I feel a pang of missing them that comes from deep within my bones.
My friends… they make my life wondrous.
And, as Posey implied, wonder can be found in even the quietest moments.
That’ll do, one of the spiders says.
Immediately, the forest is plunged into total darkness, as if the sun has been smudged away. I gasp—then thousands of silver flecks appear in the trees, as if I’ve fallen into a night sky. They shine just as brightly as the stars.
But they’re not stars; they’re eyes. Spider eyes.
In a flash, I’m blinded by streams of sparkling silk like woven starlight, as thousands of spiders leap from the trees, right toward me, their silk forming constellations and galaxies.
They twirl around my body in glimmering lines before wrapping around me, covering me in silk that twinkles, emitting a silver glow, until the entire clearing is glistening.
When the twirling stops, I’m wearing a dress spun from starlight itself, glowing brightly through the darkness.
The neckline is straight, hitting just below my collarbones and continuing to my shoulders, leaving my two necklaces on full display.
The bodice is fitted, and the skirt is full and flowing.
I turn around, trying to spot the spiders, and feel the fabric swishing around me in a glowing streak, emitting glitter. The entire clearing is covered in it.
This isn’t just a dress. It’s a gown, fit for an enchanted evening.