I walked beside Aranya as we headed toward the lake. It had been my next stop anyway, but it was nice to have a local. I kept my gaze focused directly ahead of my body; the eight legs of Aranya weren’t exactly a stable platform for her torso, and the correlating, ahem, movements were incredibly distracting. Mug walked beside me, watching his toes as if they were the most interesting things he had ever seen.

  “I guess the problem started about ten years ago,” she was saying, hands on her hips as she thought. “Of course, my kin and I are aware of the importance humans place on the silk of the willows, and we’ve more or less let them have it, only taking a stray every now and then. You know, as a reminder. But ten years ago, the humans became much more… aggressive when it came to harvesting. It was their new leader; presumably the old one died, and the current one took over.” She sighed a breathy sigh and tapped one of the pipes that were coming from the direction of the lake with one gigantic leg.

  “This is how it started. Before, they had been content to let the natural waters and rains water the trees, but once this new one happened, he had these pipes installed to siphon the river. After that, the harvests became more frequent, from once a year to upwards of three times. Finally, one day he and his men came with some horrid idol that they placed in the lake! That was last year; since then things have become downright awful, I’m afraid.”

  I thought back to the letters from unnamed creditors. Surely, this idol had to be one of the recent purchases.

  ‘What exactly did the idol do?’ She scoffed, readjusting her robe. Mug made a noise like a strangled dog, and I pretended not to notice.

  “What didn’t it do? The willows, which are only supposed to bloom and molt once a year, began to grow faster than they could keep up with. Only the silk was… different. Normally, it is the silver of a cloud at dawn. Now, it is an electric blue, and smells of burnt cinnamon. And when my kin gather it for their mating rituals… it changes them. It makes them wild. Makes them wrong.” So, he had bought some shady magical miracle grow from the fantasy equivalent of Monsanto and it had backfired. Who says there is no karma?

  ‘What do they use it for in their mating rituals? Can’t they just… stop?’ She turned and looked directly at me, her eight eyes burning a hole in my steel.

  “Of course not. The presentation of silk raiment is one of our oldest traditions and is full of meaning. Tell me, would you ask the birds to stop singing? A lizard to hide his beautiful frill? A human to not expose how much gold they make? Of course not. To ask would be to go against what we come from and who we are.” I felt the flush of embarrassment. She was right; it was wrong to ask her people to change when Pauvert had caused the problem to begin with.

  ‘I’m sorry, Madame Aranya. You’re right. I was just thinking out loud. Forgive me.’ She huffed, but seemed satisfied with my answer. Shaking off my shame, I asked more questions that I had.

  ‘What are your kind like normally? I think we ran into a couple on the road and let me tell you they seemed… aggravated.’ She nodded thoughtfully.

  “Well, the males are always a little belligerent, truth be told. That’s how we females like them; a male who can’t fight is basically useless. Still, they normally give me unconditional obedience, so it's normally fine. It’s just lately, their belligerence is constant and never ending. They won’t even listen to me once the rot of that idol has gotten to them! Can you imagine? Me! First Among Mothers and my males don’t listen? It’s a disgrace!”

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  ‘And the females?’ She laughed a knowing laugh.

  “Darling, you know nothing of mega-spider culture, do you? There are no other females in these woods, at least for now. I make sure of that.” That sounded ominous, but it was also true. I didn’t know anything of her culture. I had come in thinking like a typical human; expecting things to line up the same as I was used to.

  ‘You are once again right, Madame Aranya. Can you do me a favor and explain to me how things work amongst your kind? Preferably like you are speaking to a slow child.’

  She seemed pleased with my answer; a little flattery and humility went a long way, I was learning.

  “Of course, Lugenhelm! My, and here I thought you a barbarian!” Mug made another noise like he was being strangled; I think it was jealousy at her flirting tone. She winked at me and continued to speak.

  “We have what you would call three genders. There are males, smaller, subservient creatures that look like, to your eyes, large spiders. Then there are females like myself—beautiful, proud, intelligent, and deeply territorial. They say no two females can live in a fifty-mile radius, but personally I think that’s cutting it a little close. Then there are false males; females hidden in the body of a male. Whenever they have reached maturity, they hide and cocoon, emerging in a form like my own. Afterwards, one of two things happen; they either run off to establish their own brood far from the current matriarch, or attempt to take their throne. By force.”

  That was… terrifying. So that meant that each queen was a successful assassination away from losing her throne. No wonder she seemed so confident; this was a woman who maintained her spot with her life on the line.

  ‘So does that mean you started as a false male?’ I asked cautiously. She laughed her breathy laugh, covering her mouth with one hand as she did so.

  “Oh yes, I did, many years ago! I can still remember the old First Mother’s face when I tore her thorax open! Ah, what a wonderful day that was! She didn’t taste half bad either.” She seemed to lose herself in the nostalgia of her first kill.

  Well, that was bone chilling, but I pushed it to the back of my mind. Who was I to judge their culture? Had I really been better in my old life? I mean sure, I didn’t kill and eat would-be usurpers of a throne, but I mostly sat in a dark room and played crappy games. At least she was proactive.

  ‘So, back to the problem at hand, this idol has poisoned your people and mutated them? Why not just, you know, rip it out? You certainly seem capable enough, if you don’t mind me saying. I can honestly say that I can’t imagine anything Pauvert throwing at you being a threat.' She shook her head.

  “Sadly, Lugenhelm, this is not the case. There is a guardian of sorts that blocks our path. He put it in the same time as the idol. He must’ve known that we would want it gone, so he made sure to get some protection, beyond his flimsy toy soldiers. My males would have simply torn those apart and presented me their organs, which would have been so much easier.” So it seems like Pauvert was only mostly an idiot instead of a complete one.

  ‘So once we go to the lake, will we get a chance to simply watch it, or is it more of an attack-on-sight kind of deal?’ She thought before answering, shifting her weight back and forward on her eight legs.

  “Well, it only attacks my males if they get too close, so we should be fine… but in the interest of showing goodwill, why don’t you walk in front? We’re almost there, and I want any would-be queen to have to gain her throne the proper way.” Fair enough. I skittered in front, dragging Mug by my side. In the distance, I could see the trees giving way to a clearing, and beyond that, still waters. The lake was in sight, which meant that soon I would see the fruits of Pauvert's labors, as rotten as they may be.