Mira realized she could sense her eyes again, even if she saw only a void. She could sense her head, her hands, and her body, though through a numbness as if pinched away. She couldn’t feel her tail at all—past her hips felt devoid of anything. Her body phased into her vision, though her tail disappeared into the void surrounding her.

No scent, no sounds even when she moved, and no taste, not even of her mouth.

Squares full of text flashed into the air and Mira jumped back. She’d never seen anything like it, like ghosts of signposts.

“So, what shall we do?”

Cyda’s voice shattered the silence and filled the airless void. Mira spun until she saw Cyda behind her. She reached for her bow and arrows but found them missing. Cyda waved her hands through the ghostly signs and they shifted at her command.

“The world is my oyster, and you’re trapped in the shell.”

“Where is my bow?” Mira’s voice, like Cyda’s, filled the void as if coming from it and not her mouth. She raised her fists to fight, though without her bow or tail she had little fighting experience.

“Ooh, good idea. Let’s do a little campaign.”

As Cyda waved through the floating signs Mira felt a rough bow materialize in her hand. The wood felt weak enough to snap with one twang. She sensed a weight as her quiver filled with arrows.

“Let no one say I’m not a fair gamemaster.” Cyda looked at Mira with a piranha-sharp grin. Her voice crackled like the chittering of insect screeches.

“Because I’ll kill whoever does.”

Mira blinked. What looked like a rainbow of gravel filled her vision for a second, as if she passed through the spray of a color-warped waterfall.

“What is going on?” Mira shouted, steadying her breathing. Cyda only gestured through the ghostly signposts.

Mira clenched her eyelids as the darkness reversed into a bright sky. Wind battered her from below, and she opened her eyes to see Cyda and the signposts gone. She hung high in the sky, rapidly entering a jungle below.

Rapidly falling into the jungle.

She screamed a short grunt before she got her bearings. She needed to soften her landing. She knew Enna swung above trees with her tail. No, Mira still couldn’t feel—why did she think she had a tail? She needed to worry about falling.

Halfway down the treeline Mira’s fall slowed. She bounced suspended in the air. As she breathed she wondered if she should move and why she stopped.

She reached for a tree to grasp something solid but found her arms stuck to resilient, gooey threads.

She’d fallen onto a giant spiderweb.

She grunted at a stabbing pain in her head. It softened into a rolling wave like a stream sweeping her thoughts away. Warm, earthy jungle scents rose around her, but it wasn’t her jungle. Was it? What did that mean? Jungle sounds squawked and creaked below, but they followed a pattern that seemed forced. It put Mira out of ease. She still couldn’t taste anything.

The web shifted as Cyda stepped onto it as smoothly as she might a flat path. She wore thick robes splotched with black and white that seemed to move when Mira looked at it, spinning her head more than falling had.

“Why, I’ve got a little hunter in my web.” Cyda leaned close, grasping Mira’s head, shoulders, and body in her sharp hands. “That ranged weaponry is little use when your opponent is right up against you, isn’t it?”

Mira winced as Cyda pressed her spindly body against hers. She’d spoken of killing people like cooking lunch. Mira prepared for a stab or bite.

Her eyes popped open as Cyda kissed her. She finally sensed a taste—a sweet acidic zest rich and sharp as a lemon. She breathed a spice like sizzling sauce. Cyda’s lips felt hard, but they smoothed against Mira’s as she pressed closer. Mira hated being in a helpless position, but her reluctance shivered away as Cyda bit softly on her lip. She trailed the bites down her face to her shoulder, and Mira felt another sweeping pang in her head. Maybe it would be fine to—

Fine? screamed Mira’s mind. This is the daughter of a monster whose bites have hypnotic venom. Who knows what Cyda’s doing to her?

Mira struggled under Cyda in the web but could only push her lips away, and she tangled herself further in the sticky silk.

“Aw, are you trying to struggle?” Cyda giggled and patted Mira’s cheek, her warm hand hard and sharp. “Good to see you’re following the script. I don’t really have need for another lamia in my server, but you might be fun to keep around for a little bit.”

Mira tried to think of a plan, but her head swam and swayed. If she had a tail she could—but she didn’t, and—why did she—?

She couldn’t focus when the sky shimmered. It shimmered in a rainbow of colors. Rainbow like Cyda’s eyes, watching her, instructing her, in her head.

Why did she think she had a tail? She didn’t have a tail.

Her head felt wrong, like something swam through it that shouldn’t. Someone else? Her own thoughts? Her head ached and spun when she ignored instructions. It felt calm when she followed the orders trailing through her mind.

“Come, now,” Cyda said, “give your webmaster a smile.” Her voice echoed as if coming from everywhere, including Mira’s mind. She squeezed Mira’s face and pushed her into a smile.

The static film growing over Mira’s mind leaned her into the smile, but at Mira’s core everything about it spoke wrong. She shook Cyda off and shouted refusal. Cyda pouted and bared her teeth.

“I appreciate you following the resistance script,” she said, “but I have others to tend to.” She leaned close and grabbed Mira’s head in several hands. “I’m going to change your script.”

Pangs shocked through Mira’s head and she twitched. Her vision swam with garbled rainbow gravel.

Words spilled through her mind that she couldn’t understand yet understood better than her own self.

“Now, no more resistance,” Cyda said, “I still have a snail to catch.”

Ainsley! Mira remembered her. She had been trapped. If Cyda was busy with her, maybe Ainsley got away. Maybe she didn’t. Mira needed to hang on to help her, to help herself, to help—no helping—only—no more—

“What’re ye waiting for, ye glaikit serpent? ‘Mon and use yer strongest ability, would you?”

“Huh?” Mira blinked. The rainbow permeating her vision stuttered and the new words ceased. “Ainsley?”

“It in’t real! It’s a virtual reality! Ach, I mean she’s got an illusion over ye, but yer still real and got her eyes right where ye want’em!”

“Did you . . .” Cyda’s face fell blank. “How did you hack my webserver? It’s literally made of silk.”

They were back to words Mira didn’t understand, but she understood one thing Ainsley said.

Cyda’s eyes. If she had them where she wanted them, there was only one place they could be: meeting her own.

Mira blinked and pulsed green and red through her eyes. Red and blue. Blue and green. Rings of colors she had gazed into the eyes of others with so many times it was instinct. No matter how many words someone tried to stuff into her head to control her, she always knew how to do this.

“Huh?” Cyda’s face fell blanker, eyes wider. “What’s going— No, wait, you’re not supposed to do that.”

“But now that I am,” said Mira, “you don’t want me to stop.”

“No, no, st-stop,” Cyda said. “I mean, uhh.” She turned away from Mira. “I’m not looking at you, so you might as . . . well . . . stop . . .”

Cyda swayed despite not looking at Mira. If this was an illusion as Ainsley said, Mira couldn’t trust what she saw. She assumed Cyda was still looking at her.

“Now, now, you don’t want me to do that,” Mira said. “You want me to keep showing you this dazzling spectacle, don’t you? This is your world, so my eyes are so hypnotic, because you want me to be, so hypnotic and beautiful.”

“N-No, that’s, I don’t want . . . Stop it! I’m in—con–control.”

“But it would feel so nice to give up control and relax,” Mira said. “To drop your burdens and sleep so peacefully.”

“No, no I—I don’t . . .”

“Hush now,” said Mira. “You just want to sleep, safe and sound, wrapped up snug in peaceful bliss.”

Cyda sighed as she swayed on her feet back to Mira. Her eyes stared wide, shifted from her rainbow wave to pulsing with Mira’s hypnotic colors. Her mouth hung ajar.

A memory from yesterday rose in Mira. She wondered if it might work.

“Now, come here and let me sing you a lullaby,” Mira said. Cyda stepped closer, legs wobbling, until Mira could whisper to her.

“Hush little dear now, don’t stray away,
“Mama’s brought some prey in for you to play,
“And when that prey’s blood has all spilled,
“Mama will be back with a brand new kill,
“And once you’ve drank and once you’ve fed,
“Mama’s gonna wrap you up in a silk bed,
“And once you’re strong enough to break free,
“You can fight your siblings for territory,
“But until that day comes too soon,
“I’ll keep you safe and always sing this tune.”

As Mira sang, Cyda’s eyes drifted shut. The world melted into the pulsing rings of red, blue, and green. Mira wondered if this was what her prey saw when she hypnotized them.

By the end of the lullaby a smile spread over Cyda’s dazed face. It held no hint of the fanged cruelty all her other smiles had. It was a smile of soft peace, of welcome surrender.

“Now drop, little one,” Mira said. “It’s time to go to sleep.” Cyda sighed and mumbled.

“Yes, mama . . .”

Cyda dropped to her knees and collapsed.

The illusion fell apart. Mira gasped as reality flooded back to her. She was still stuck to the wall in Cyda’s silk cocoon, webbing trailed over her body.

Very little silk stuck to her tail—was that why she didn’t have one in the illusion?

“Ooh, she’s so adorable when she’s asleep.” Maestra squeezed her upper hands together to her cheek. She bent next to Cyda and picked her up with her lower arms. With a giggle she tapped her nose. “Who’s my sleepy little baby girl?”

“Meeee . . .” Cyda mumbled.

Maestra stepped away as she cooed over her.

“Hey!” yelled Mira. “Aren’t you going to get me out of this?” Maestra looked at her.

“Really?” Her face fell blank before she smiled again. “You seemed to be having such a nice time with my daughter, and she always had such warm silk, almost like a sweater.”

Mira glared at Maestra as she placed Cyda on a web hanging below the second floor and wrapped her in a cocoon bed.

Did Maestra really not understand what transpired between her and Cyda, or did she just not care?

“Ay! That was brilliant back there!” Ainsley pulled the silk from Mira, though she only got stuck to it. “Singing that lullaby—I’d not have guessed that screwball skinny malinky longlegs had a scrap of innocence in her, but I guess her dear old ma brought it out.” She stretched up to whisper to Mira, “Cracked as her own mum is.”

“Of course, I know how to handle myself in a situation,” Mira said.

Honestly, she had no idea where the thought came from. It wasn’t like she ever had lullabies sang to her.

She felt an itch in the back of her head, a nagging for her to do something. She worried it was remnants of Cyda’s manipulation until she recognized it as the rare feeling that she owed gratitude. She completed trials alone so often she wasn’t used to it. She coughed.

“You—Well, you—Thank you?” She wasn’t even sure how to say it. “You helped.”

“Naw, that was nothing,” Ainsley said. “I just ran some old wire I had through a microphone into her silk and—dammit!” The more she tried to free Mira the more silk stuck to her. “Damn feckin’ sticky midden trash shite–”

Maestra pulled the silk off Mira and Ainsley as if it were paper.

“I suppose you must be on your way, dear Ainsley, but it was nice getting an extended visit from you.” She rested a hand on Ainsley’s shoulder.

Ainsley patted Maestra’s arm before turning away quicker than Mira had ever seen her move.

“Aye, and t’was so long I might just skip next time, bye.” She stopped before Mira and the lines softened from her face. She shook her hand. “I do gotta go, but really, it was pure dead brilliant to meet you, Mira, and I’d be cheery to visit next time Veda travels through the area.”

“I’d be glad for it,” Mira said. “I can treat you to more of my cooking.”

“Brilliant!” Ainsley grinned. “I’ll bring the best sodas I’ve concocted, have us a pint together.”

Mira’s face darkened.

“I can only feign so much good humor,” she muttered. Ainsley guffawed.

“Alright, I’ll mix up something way more tame for ya.”

As Ainsley left, Maestra patted Mira’s shoulder.

“I do love to entertain guests, but I have my daughter to look after at the moment.” She climbed the wall to where Cyda hung. “I would be happy to see you again, though, my dear Mira.”

Mira slapped her tail on the floor.

“Not so fast. I have the human you wanted. I’ll bring them, and then I want some of your venom.”

“Hm?” Maestra patted her sleeping daughter’s cheeks. “Oh, yes. I don’t have time for another dear babe to look after now, so you can send them elsewhere.”

Mira narrowed her eyes.

“What about the venom?”

“Well, I suppose there’s no call for a trade now, but perhaps you can check with me later, if you’d like.”

Mira balanced high on her body until she rose to even height with Maestra just under the second floor balcony. She glared at her.

“I didn’t go through all that just to leave empty-handed.”

Maestra looked at Mira and blinked. Her eyes narrowed.

Ainsley may have been right that Mira could wait, but if Maestra then sent her on another hunt she would be caught in a cycle. Mira stretched her hands, fingering her bow and arrows. She would fight for what she wanted and get it now.

Maestra laughed.

“Well, I suppose if you have proved you can use my venom with your arrows safely, I can give you some venom.”

Mira exhaled and nodded. As much as she was willing to fight, she was worn out. Cyda was hard to deal with. She could only imagine how dangerous her mother could be.

Thankfully Enna kept her word and didn’t release the human. Once Mira brought them to Maestra and showed she had used the venom-tipped arrow without injuring them, Maestra gave her a jar of venom and antidote to use however she wished. She resumed indulging herself in attending to her daughter without a second look to Mira.

Now Mira had it. The reason she sought Maestra and Veda.

Arrows to spellbind prey from afar.