Page 5

A RAVENOUS SPIDER

NOWADAYS

D arkness scratched my insides, clawing its way out of my skin. I heard my mother’s voice as if she were shouting my name underwater. I couldn’t see her. I couldn’t reach her. The stifling atmosphere around me was directionless and suffocating. I was going to drown in this black hole with her.

Out of the corner of my eye, a shimmer flickered, a beacon in the void. I jolted in my bed, gasping for air. Wild wisps of damp hair clung to my neck. My starburst scar pounding in time with my heart.

“What’s happening?” Letti’s sleepy whisper anchored me firmly in my body. I brushed my fingers over my hair and wiped the sleep from my eyes. A slice of dawn slipped through the top of the curtains in our room. There was no pulsing glow, only the steady rays of the morning sun. It was time for the Dormancy.

“Just a nightmare. Sorry I woke you,” I sighed and stretched my arms, shifting out of bed to plant my feet on the ground.

“It’s all right, Ser. I wasn’t sleeping well anyway. I’ll check if Father needs anything before we head to the conservatory.” Letti gave me a quick hug and left, leaving me in silence.

Enforcing my resolve, I pushed to my feet. My deep inhalation propelled me upward as my feet pressed into the wood floorboards. I began preparing myself for our long, relentless slumber.

“Hurry up, girls. Let’s get this over with,” Father chided as if we were taking a quick trip into the village.

“We’re ready, Father.” Letti’s melodic voice floated down the hall. I left the washroom and followed her to the kitchen.

Father placed a kiss on Letti’s head and nodded once toward me. For someone with such rich brown eyes, the color of warm catbane reeds, his gaze left a chill in its wake. He rarely looked my way, as if I was an apparition just out of his peripheral. His eyes softened when he looked back at Letti.

It was always a pleasant surprise to see any show of warmth from him, even if it wasn’t directed at me. I didn’t recall a time when he was especially affectionate toward me. No one could accuse Gideon Vawn of being a tender man. When Mama had disappeared all those turns ago, it was like he hid himself away—deep beneath layers of ice—rather than breaking into tiny fragments.

I would never scrub the memory of him frantic and searching the conservatory so long ago when I was a girl of seven turns. My thoughts had been muddled as I awoke from our six-month coma. I recalled him clawing his fingers within Mama’s pod, the cloying mist sticking to his hands as he pulled them out. We had all gone into the Dormancy pods as usual that autumn but had awoken with one less body in the spring. Mama had disappeared from our lives that day as if she had never been—an illusion called back to the murky abyss.

“All right, onwards.” Father straightened his already rigid spine, turning and ushering us into the damp, cool morning.

We made our way to the conservatory. The Larkin brothers were already waiting near the now-open entrance. Kaden put his arm around my shoulders and ruffled Letti’s hair. She let out a quiet laugh and swatted his hand. Gavrel greeted us with a solemn nod, not a wrinkle apparent in his dark Draumr uniform. He always tried to be home for the Dormancy instead of stationed elsewhere.

Letti brushed the back of her hand along the back of mine. “I wish we remembered … well, anything when we’re in there.” Her small, pert nose crinkled. “It’s like waking from a fuzzy dream that slips from you the moment your eyes wake.”

“You can almost grasp the memory, but it floats away just as you almost catch it,” I murmured in agreement.

“Enough, girls,” Father snapped. “Let’s move on. Why discuss things we will never understand and have no control over? The Elders know what’s best, and we’ll continue to follow their laws without useless whims.” He waved his hand toward the pods, his direction final.

Cheeks burning, I sealed my lips into a tight line. Even though I wasn’t a child any longer, he still had a way of making me feel small. I lifted my chin and followed Letti into our glass tomb. Perhaps this was the turn I would vanish like Mama. Maybe I was made of mist as well. Or a fragile seedling caught in a dark gale, never given the chance to bloom.

I was floating in a murky, gelatinous stew. My limp body was suspended in the languidly coiling matter. Might as well be a turnip ready to be devoured . I clenched my eyes shut.

The dusky haze wasn’t particularly damp, but if I attempted to move, tendrils licked against my skin, clinging to it. The sensation reminded me vaguely of walking into a spiderweb sprinkled with dew. I forced myself to breathe in deeply and exhale slowly. It took a few moments for the glass to rematerialize.

On my fifth exhale, the vessel’s encasement locked into place with a soft swish of air. I was a fly entangled in spider silk. I bit my bottom lip hard, trying to distract myself from the mounting panic bubbling in my gut.

We were taught not to fight this process. Just breathe. Let the ember envelop your body. Let it soak into your mind. I was convinced whoever drafted those instructions had never been through the Dormancy. They could go straight to the fiery pits of the Nether Void , I thought bitterly.

Shadowy tendrils surrounded me, now frantically whirling. Clinging mist slithered under my clothes as if trying to melt into my skin. The feeling was oppressive, like being too sticky with sweat on a sweltering summer day.

The amber glass was cast in its glow again, the back of my eyelids flashing in shades of apricot. I forced myself to open my eyes. To face the churning terror sinking into my rigid muscles.

All at once, the mist burrowed within, deep into the marrow of my bones. I tried to scream but couldn’t as scorching pain ripped through every tendon, every joint. I was a paralyzed fly being consumed alive by a ravenous spider. Then everything went black.