Sammy Spider's Arc

Chapter 1 of 1

Sammy Spider needed a home before the cold killed him. He crept along a cracked stone wall, his eight legs stiffening in the night air. Winter was coming, and the meaner spiders had already claimed the good spots. He had until this cold snap ended to find a warm crack, or he would freeze on the wall like a leaf. He found no gap. Every crack was too shallow, every corner too open. Frost crept over the stone. His legs slowed. He forced himself downward, toward a lit window low to the ground. Warm air leaked from the gap beneath the door of a small basement apartment. Sammy squeezed through. Inside, the low ceiling pressed close, and the room smelled of dust and warmth. On a shelf near the heater sat an empty matchbox, its tray slid halfway open. A perfect little bed. He climbed toward it. A thread stopped him. Silk crossed the shelf, thick and strong, blocking his path. "That box is spoken for." The voice came from above. Millicent Webber hung from the ceiling, her white hair falling past red eyes. She was the spider who had chased Sammy from three walls already this season. She lowered herself between him and the matchbox, unhurried. "You always come late," she said. "You always want what's mine." Sammy's legs shook, half from cold, half from fear. "I only need a corner. I'll freeze out there." "Then freeze," Millicent said. A second shape dropped beside her. Arachne Silkweaver, armored in black and purple, her orange eyes glowing in the dark. She landed light as ash. Sammy had heard of her. She spun the strongest silk in the valley. "Enough, Millicent," Arachne said. Her voice was calm and low. "The box is mine now. I claimed this room at dusk." Millicent hissed but backed toward the wall. She did not argue with Arachne. Sammy stood trapped between the two of them. His warm bed sat inches away, and neither would let him near it. He looked at Arachne's threads. They ran clean and even, laid with care. He made a choice. "I can't spin like you," Sammy said. "But I can watch the door while you rest. Millicent won't take the room if two of us hold it." Arachne studied him. Her orange eyes did not blink. "You'd guard for me," she said. "A servant, then." "A partner," Sammy said. "Give me the far corner. I earn it." Arachne was quiet a long moment. Then she cut her own thread with one leg. The matchbox stayed hers, but the shelf's edge opened. "The corner is yours," she said. "For now. Cross me and you're back on the wall." Sammy crawled to the cold corner and pressed against the warm shelf. He had a place inside at last. But he had made a bargain with a spider stronger than him, and Millicent watched from the wall, waiting.