As they continued through the jungle, Ainsley asked Mira about growing up in the jungle and her life as a hunter. Mira gave what little information she felt bothered to. Ainsley seemed inspired by her, apparently for her . . . “tabletop ranger” as she put it.

Despite Mira not asking, Ainsley explained it as a story game between people. It became clear Ainsley would talk about it at length, to herself as much as Mira, so Mira slithered above through the canopy, at least until the trees grew dark and difficult to move through.

“I take it we’re nearing the spider’s nest?” Mira slithered down a tree.

“As a matter of fact,” Ainsley said. “How’d ya ken?” She blinked at Mira, covered in the spider webbing that choked the trees. “Ach, never mind.”

They passed trees further choked in webbing, and the deep green darkened to ashen gray as the webs replaced the leaves. The trees looked ragged, but the webbing gave the impression of foliage as thick as any part of the jungle—even thicker, like ghost trees forming a barrier against unwary travelers.

Mira pulled the sticky webbing off her clothes and tail, while Ainsley peered around as if expecting bandits to leap out.

“Did Lady Rios tell ye aboot Maestra’s bairn?” Ainsley asked.

“Her what?”

“Her loony kids, I mean.”

“Her children?” Mira said. “She said a little, that Maestra has a lot of them.”

“Aye,” said Ainsley, “and fer the most part the wee tykes—well, they ain’t so wee now, they’ve all left their mum long before I ever met her. They don’t visit their mum much, which is braw because they’re all bloody horrendous monsters who belong on an island surrounded by mountains and whirlpools and transported to another dimension.”

“I’ve heard of Maestra as a monster herself,” Mira said.

“She’s the maw monster, but the sweetest monster you’ll ever see, and I’ve seen a lot in Veda’s lines of business. She’ll treat ye like her own kin, be a surrogate mother if ye need, but once her own kid is in the picture she’s got eyes for none else.”

“So she’ll be more amenable without one of her children to occupy her attention?” Mira asked.

“Aye, that she will be.” Ainsley shot Mira a side glance, eyebrow raised. “And on the plus side we won’t have our brains eaten and bodies hollowed.”

Mira twirled an arrow in her hand and cut off the last of the webbing.

“Won’t be a problem for me. Anyone comes after me, and I’ll stick an arrow in them.”

“Good idea,” Ainsley said, “kill the bairns of the wifey ye wanna favor from, that’ll do.”

“Then what do you suggest if one of her children are there?” Mira asked.

“We turn ‘round,” Ainsley said with a twirl of her eyestalks. “A cup of venom is nay so precious to get in a scrape over.”

“You can,” Mira said. “I’m not going to leave empty handed.”

Ainsley gripped Mira’s shoulders and glared at her with all four eyes.

“Don’t be daft, ye trigger-happy tube! Yer a hunter, ye’ve got the patience, don’t ye? Ye ken the jungle, ye can find yer way back here. Just wait if ye have ta!”

Mira frowned and blinked. She recognized most of the path they took and memorized the unfamiliar part.

“Yes, I can find my way back here.” Mira had waited so long to reach this far that she didn’t want to wait more—but waiting was her specialty. If she had to, she would.

“Right.” Ainsley turned back to the path.

“You know,” Mira said, “you talk too much, but you do seem to think these things through.”

“Aye, and you’re a quiet one, who shoots before asking.”

Mira considered the sort of things she’d done before asking, and she chuckled.

“I suppose that’s not unfair.”

“Now help me move these leaves.” Ainsley pushed a wall of web-caked foliage that looked as dark as a stormy sky.

Mira grabbed a heavy stick and swept the decayed foliage aside. Her eyes widened at the building ahead that towered to the top of the treeline. Its foundation looked risen from the very earth itself, its ashen red brick paling into gray—unless that was the forest of spider webs covering the building like vines. Arches surrounded the building, draped with webbing like curtains. The decaying jungle plants curled at the edge of the clearing as if backing away.

“I was expecting a cave of some sort,” Mira said.

“Can’t picture what sort of cave she crawled out of,” Ainsley said, “but I’ve gathered she’s moved up over her life. Had to make those weans somehow.”

Mira expected dust and decay, but the earthy smell mismatched the area’s deathly, web-choked appearance. The den of a spider monster could send a cold chill through a brave explorer, but Mira instead felt the warm rays of the sun as it dipped into the treeline towards evening.

They approached the arches. Ainsley sighed and crossed her arms.

“We might have tae come back. I think she’s got company.”

The webbing over the arch was torn as if someone had passed through.

“Are her children all spiders?” Mira asked.

“They’re all sorts of screwball creepy-crawly monsters,” Ainsley said. “Bugs, monsters, too many legs, no legs, wings—they’re all different, from what I ken.”

Mira chuckled.

“A lot of humans would look at us like ‘creepy-crawlies’.”

“Aye, now crank that tae eleven or so,” said Ainsley. “They’re the creepy-crawlies that creepy-crawlies call creepy-crawlies.”

“I can tell,” Mira said. She slithered under the arch. “I expect one of her offspring wouldn’t pass under the arch, then. I imagine they could more easily go over.”

“Whit, ye think she’s got another guest?” Ainsley followed her closer to the mansion.

“Certainly a possibility,” Mira said. The front door looked wide enough to admit an elephant, with a staircase big enough to support its weight. “I’m going to take a look.” Ainsley groaned.

“Ach crivens, if ye insist on risking yer tail, I’ll go. Best tae show Maestra a familiar face first anyway, and if things are rough I’ll retreat to ma shell.” She pointed at Mira, her arm stretching until a slimy finger grazed her nose. “But if so, ye’ll be th’one pulling me outta there, got it?”

“I’ll wrap my tail around your shell,” Mira said, “so I can pull you out if you call for me to.”

“Braw,” Ainsley said with a nod. “Just be smooth when ye pull, I secure ma lab tight but that don’t mean it’s all fail safe.”

Mira coiled her tail around Ainsley’s coiled shell like the trunk of a tree, and she watched her enter the mansion. She opened the door wide to carry her shell through, so Mira waited to the side out of view. She counted the silence like she did waiting for a prey to enter the best angle.

She heard Ainsley greet someone from inside, followed by another voice, full and hearty and deeper than her own, with a sweet underside like pouring syrup into coffee.

Ainsley’s head poked out the door. Her eyestalks squinted, and her voice had a huffy edge as if grumpy at all the bother.

“Braw, come in, Maestra’s not seen her monster progeny in yonks. Just one of yer kin, dunno how she found here but she looks harmless.”

“One of my kin?” Mira asked. She felt an unfamiliar jolt through her body. How would Ainsley even know?

“A lamia, I mean.”

“Oh, that.” Mira exhaled. She was surprised anyone visited Maestra—she’d assumed only Veda knew about this place.

Mira entered the mansion, the front room so high and expansive she hardly felt her usual stuffiness when confined to a room. Balconies of upper floors lined the walls. A chandelier glittered faint light through the sea of webbing, which was more than enough for Mira, used to the jungle night, to see the darkened furniture, which looked rough and old enough to grow new branches.

Despite the faint light and restrictive webbing, and the imposing figure the mansion showed outside, vibrant paint colored the walls as brilliant as a sunrise. Warm, vivid rugs spread over the floor, softer than any grass or soil Mira had slithered over, though the light marble floor chilled her scales.

The cheery interior would have given Mira the impression of a daycare had the constant webbing not darkened the atmosphere, but even through the webs the bright paint warmed the room. Mira smelled a slight mustiness to the room, but she breathed as easily as outside, the air circulating and unchoked by dust. None of these webs were cobwebs, and Mira suspected someone cleaned them every day.

“Welcome to my little home, my guest! I am pleased as could be to meet you.”

Rapid clacks along the floor drew Mira’s attention to an imposing arachnoid figure who stood over a head taller than her. Yet her four legs angled like drooping branches—if she stretched to full length she could stand double Mira’s height, and her girth doubled from the bouncing bulbous abdomen behind her that might have outweighed most of Mira’s tail.

The monster spider lady squeezed two hands against her face and grinned as if admiring Mira, her two big rosy-red eyes and ten smaller eyes watching her. A third hand shot out to shake Mira’s, her skin hard like smooth bark and jointed fingers ending in sharp points. Mira felt thin lattice gloves like webs over her arms.

Her fourth hand cupped Mira’s chin before she could dodge it. The spider’s smile showed her fangs well enough to glint over her dark skin.

“You have such pretty yellow eyes, my dear.” She pulled Mira closer as she skimmed her hand down her arm, and the smell of peppermint threw Mira so far off she didn’t resist. “Oh, and you’re so strong. It’s always wonderful to meet a new guest. Oh, I’m sorry—my name is Maestra, and what is yours?”

Mira cleared her throat and pulled out of Maestra’s hold.

“I’m—my name is Mira.” She wanted to get a grip on the conversation, but Maestra chattered forth as unstoppable as an elephant on patrol, with the sudden giggling somewhere behind her as endless as their chant.

“Mira, that’s a wonderful name. I believe it means ocean.” She passed a hand through Mira’s hair. “Dear Mira, you must tell me how you get your hair so nice and wavy.”

“I, er—it’s natural?” Mira failed to find any purchase on the conversation.

“Oh, you’re so lucky,” Maestra said. She tapped her sharp fingers through her own hair. “It takes me all morning to get my hair looking good. I don’t see people very often, but I never know when I’ll have a visitor, and I want to look my best. I did invite a hairstylist to stay here once, but I’m afraid someone came and took her away.”

Her shining ginger hair contrasted with her dark caramel skin, darker than Mira’s, like black coffee. Her arms and legs had a pattern of thin fur like light coffee, and her legs ended in pincer-like feet perched on the floor. Her sunny dress glowed brighter than her hair, and a shawl as pink as a flamingo covered her abdomen.

“Oh, my, where are my manners?” Maestra said. “Would you like some tea?”

“Say no,” Ainsley whispered, leaning close to Mira. “Never know what she puts in the stuff.” She raised a can to Maestra. “No, thanks, I brought soda.”

“Ah, no thank you,” Mira said, hoping to leverage the break in the conversation, “I’d rather—” She groaned. Maestra’s chatter was bad enough, but the constant laughter behind her started to sound familiar.

“Oh, dear, I haven’t even introduced my other guest.” Maestra stepped aside and waved an arm behind her. “Ainsley, Mira, this is—”

“Enna.” Mira glared at the short giggling lamia, who sat at a table covered in yarn balls.

“Fancy meeting you here, Mira!” Enna waved as if they passed each other by a river, and not the secluded mansion of a spider monster that Mira only found by seeking an audience with a mysterious aristocrat.

Enna and her twin sister Anne had tails half Mira’s length, as if they had to share one tail when born. At least Enna wasn’t a self-important royal-aping snob like her sister. Rather, her scruffy hair and manner made her look even more a wild denizen of the jungle than Mira, and all the prey fled from her frequent whooping and hollering when she swung through trees like a monkey.

“Oh, how splendid,” Maestra said with a small clap, “you two already know each other.”

“Small world,” said Ainsley. She sipped her soda.

Mira slithered to Enna, trying to find the words to interrogate her, while Enna’s gremlin grin only widened.

“Why?” Mira sputtered. “How?”

“How do you think I get my clothing designs made?” Enna lifted a yarn ball, which Mira now saw glinted like silk. “I’m here discussing some new fashion ideas with Maestra.”

These days Enna did seem to have a different outfit every time Mira saw her. It was the only part of her that didn’t look scruffy. Right now her tank top and cargo skirt looked inspired by every party of safari travelers Mira had ever seen.

“But how,” said Mira. “How did you find her?”

Enna shrugged.

“Just stumbled upon her home one day!”

“Then why did you never tell me?”

“You never asked,” Enna said.

“I bring her up in lots of conversations,” said Mira. She’d always found ways to in hopes of finding information on her whereabouts.

“Really?” Enna’s smile finally dropped, for a moment. “I don’t remember any.”

Mira wanted to protest but stopped.

Had she ever brought up the spider monster in conversation with Enna? She never once thought she might know anything, about Maestra or anything else. She acted like a gremlin, yet here she was chummy with a monster considered dangerous by dangerous monsters.

“Well,” Mira sighed, “at least I am here now.”

“So you are.”

Maestra gripped Mira’s chin, a sharper grip like a clasping trap. Though she smiled, her glaring eyes pierced Mira, and her smaller eyes looked as if each held a dagger.

“So you’ve been looking for me, have you?”

“I—Yes,” Mira said. No sense in lying about that, best was to just lay out her intention. “I mean you no harm, Ms. Maestra.” Ainsley tried to back her up on that and explain Veda let Mira come, but Maestra chuckled and waved a hand.

“Please, it’s Mrs. Maestra. My husbands all did their part, so their memories are to be preserved.”

“Mrs. Maestra,” Mira said. “I’ve heard tales of you, particularly of your hypnotic venom, able to soften and twist the minds of those bitten. Is this true?”

“Oh, yes, that’s quite true.” Maestra’s expression and grip softened, as if the conversation had steered away from a concern. Mira plunged ahead.

“I’ve sought you out in hopes of procuring some of your venom for myself.”

“Oh, certainly!” Maestra said. Her smile brightened and lost its sharp edge. “I would be more than happy to give you some.”

Pride welled within Mira for attaining her goal.

It crashed when she realized Maestra leaned into her neck, mouth open and fangs out. Mira’s eyes widened as every inch of her body tensed and twisted.

“No!”

Her shout echoed in the mansion. She shoved away, slithered back, and aimed her bow and arrow at Maestra within a few seconds. Enna yelped and fell to the floor. Ainsley retreated halfway into her shell. Maestra only frowned and watched Mira, whose breaths rushed faster than in any burst of stress she’d ever felt.

“You resort to violence over indecision?” she asked. Ainsley waved her stretching arms before Maestra.

“Nae, not venom insid’er, ye daft ancient matriarch of shells and sharp angles! She wants a jar of th’stuff, like ye gave tae me!”

Maestra clapped two hands together and chuckled.

“Ah, I see. My mistake, dear.” Her voice sounded softest now, amused as if her action hadn’t shot even more terror through Mira than Veda’s hypnosis. “Whatever do you need that for?”

“I want to—” Mira lowered her bow and arrow as she regulated her breathing to normal. “I want hypnotic venom to dip my arrows into. I wish to make it easier to subdue prey from a distance.”

“I see,” Maestra said. She frowned and tapped her chin. “Oh dear, I will have to consider that. Oh dear, oh dear.” She stepped to a web-covered wall, two arms behind her back. “It could be dangerous, letting something so potent out in the wild.”

“You’ve given venom to Ainsley before, haven’t you?” Mira asked.

“Aye,” said Ainsley.

“For scientific curiosity, I assume.” Maestra lowered her eyes to Ainsley. “You never dipped it in an arrow and shot it at somebody, I presume.”

“Naw, naw, not at somebody, sure,” Ainsley said. Both pairs of eyes looked away from Maestra.

“But for use as a weapon,” Maestra said. Mira winced—Maestra sounded like she was weighing the pros and cons of a crime. She climbed the webbed wall with her legs as smoothly as she walked across a floor.

Enna pulled herself upright with her chair.

“Dang, Mira, your eyes aren’t doing it for you anymore?” She chuckled before it fell into a groan. “Nagaraja, can you imagine if Anne could fire hypnotic arrows? She’d take over a whole village and not stop there.”

“Precisely,” said Maestra. She climbed over the webs hanging like a net off the upper floor balcony. “I’ve only met you, dear Mira. I do not know if I can trust you.”

“Veda trusted me to meet you,” Mira said.

“Aye, that she did,” said Ainsley. “She wouldn’y betray yer trust, Maestra.”

“Oh, of course not, I’m sure dear Veda had only the best intentions,” Maestra said. “But we do live in two different worlds. Her world has her meet everybody. She has to trust them to some extent. I have something more to consider, though, and trust is not always an option.”

Mira flinched as Maestra dropped from the webbing directly over her, but she halted within arm’s reach, hanging by a silk strand from her abdomen.

“May I see one of your arrows, Miss Mira?”

“Of course.” Mira handed Maestra an arrow, who peered over it and tapped the head as she climbed the silk trail with her legs back to the webs above.

Mira hadn’t considered Maestra simply refusing. Perhaps she’d heard so much about Maestra as a monster, she didn’t think she would consider the dangers of using her venom as a ranged weapon, that she would brush it off as a monster using another monster’s monstrous ability.

“Well,” Mira said, watching Maestra rummage through a chest on a balcony above, “this could have gone better so far.”

“Guess I could’ve warned you how enthusiastic she gets,” Ainsley said. “She had much the same eager response meeting me. So what’cha’d plan in the case she wouldn’y give ye venom?”

Mira looked at her bow.

“Force.”

Ainsley stared at her, all four eyelids lowered.

“Do all yer plans end with that point?”

“Yep!” Enna grinned and pulled them close. “Every single one.” Mira shot a glare at her and ducked out from her arm. Enna was wrong, but she didn’t care enough to refute her.

“I thought she would be more monster than mother.” Mira looked up. “What’s she doing, anyway?”

Maestra opened a jar from the chest and dipped the arrow in it. She lowered herself to the ground floor and handed the arrow to Mira.

“All right, you can do something for me. Let’s see how you do with one arrow.”