Reunited
There was a monstrous crocodile surrounded by demonic creatures and a woman with horrible birds resting on her shoulders. I saw an old man sitting in a rocking chair with a group of children surrounding him, three in his lap, his head thrown back laughing. Then there was a man and a woman studying hieroglyphs inside a tomb.
In another section, I saw a dead man lying on a slab, a knife buried in his chest. A woman fell over him, weeping, while an Egyptian god stood guard. A young girl stood next to a unicorn, her hand wrapped around the beast’s horn as it lowered its head. Light shone from the horn. The same girl, but now with wings, flew into a dying sun and brought it back to life. There was an old man placing an old woman into a sarcophagus while an Egyptian god looked on, his dog lifting his head in a howl. Other, younger people stood by watching. The woman was still alive.
I shivered.
The spider leapt to another tree, bringing an entire new web into focus.
In this one a dragon hovered over a slain knight, fire and smoke pouring out of his mouth as the girl knelt at the knight’s side. The spider turned, and I saw a vast city being rebuilt. It was unlike any city I’d ever seen before. The buildings were connected by walkways and bridges. The next scene showed a girl soaring through space on the back of a unicorn leading an army of such riders. She brandished familiar weapons, and her face was lit with determination.
I pointed to her as the spider paused. “That’s not me,” I said. “If this is supposed to be my life or my fate or whatever, I think you’ve gotten a few things wrong. I can’t exactly recall everything I’ve experienced, but some of these images aren’t mine.”
Keep in mind, the spider said, the tapestry includes images not only of your past, but also of your future. These scenes depict all of the things that you will do in your life.
“I get that, but how can I do these things in the future if you’re just going to eat me?”
Ah, many misunderstand this. I suppose I shouldn’t expect more of you than the native girls despite how special you are. You must remember that even though I have the ability to weave your fate, it is the fate you would have known had you not set foot upon the Isle of the Lost. Once here, your path is broken. I just give you a little glimpse of what could have been. It’s a kindness. I think. To be able to see your life in such a way before it abruptly ends.
“Well, that’s debatable. But regardless, you still have it wrong.”
Oh? How so?
“Well, take this, for example,” I said pointing at the winged girl speeding toward a dying star. “That’s not possible. I can’t do that. I don’t have wings. I’m not a goddess or anything.”
Are you certain? the spider asked. Can you not sprout them?
“Nope. Maybe it’s Ashleigh. She was a fairy in another life.”
No. No. I specifically blocked out the others.
“Right, but they’re a part of me. I don’t see a lioness here or the African pride she came from. You’ve left out a big piece of my life by ignoring them.”
Surely they aren’t important pieces.
“I’d say they are. I can’t remember how they came to be with me, but they’ve made a huge impact. There’s no leaving them out. You’ll have to add them if you want the tapestry to be right. Unless accuracy doesn’t matter so much to you. I would have assumed a powerful being such as yourself would be capable of discerning those details. Perhaps you’re not really as good of a weaver or as full of wisdom as you think you are.”
Yes. Well, you see, the thing is, I can’t just add the ways they influence your life. I’d have to weave an entire tapestry for each of them. It would be very complicated. Their webs would have to intersect yours at many different points. It’s the only way to be precisely accurate.
“I see. Well, I guess if it’s too difficult, I’ll just have to accept an incomplete tapestry. It’s a shame, really. Don’t get me wrong. It’s a beautiful accomplishment. And I can live with the discrepancy—well, live for the short time I have left—if you can. Of course, as an immortal creature, you’d have to live with the inaccuracy for quite a while. Perhaps it’s not something you can accomplish at this point in your life anyway.”
What do you mean by that?
“I just mean that you’re not as young as you once were. Being out of practice is nothing to be ashamed of. I mean, look at what you were able to do after being stuck here on the island for so long,” I said, extending an arm in a sweeping gesture. I wasn’t sure if her gemstone eyes could see me or not, so I didn’t take any chances with my expression.
The spider rubbed her two front legs together while she contemplated what she was going to do. I strained my ears, listening for Ahmose, but the only sound I heard was the rustling of the leaves in the night breeze.
I may be out of practice, Ananse said, but I certainly still possess the skills necessary to create multiple tapestries. I once wove the tapestries of entire world populations. Three little girls shouldn’t be a problem, no matter how intricately they are connected. The spider clicked its fangs together. Very well, she said. I will need to access the thoughts of the other two who reside in your mind to see how they have shaped and influenced your fate.
“I think that would be best,” I said. “Tia alone will be a very interesting addition. She’s had quite a complicated life path. I think you’ll find her tapestry very compelling.”
Then it’s decided.
A pressure I didn’t realize was in my mind lifted, and I heard the familiar, now very confused voices of Tia and Ashleigh. Audibly, I said, “Tia, Ashleigh, I’d like to introduce you to Ananse. She is going to weave your tapestries. You should be very quiet so she can do her work.”
Both girls fell immediately silent.
Ananse scurried across a thread and leapt quickly from tree to tree. When she’d gone a sufficient distance from my tapestry, she stopped. I climbed down and sat in the crook of a tall tree. “Do you want to bind my leg again?” I asked genially. “I don’t mind. How long do you think it will take to finish? I’m so excited for the girls to see what glorious work you do.”
Yes, Ananse said distractedly. I mean, no. You’re high enough now and the poison has likely weakened you sufficiently that you won’t be able to climb down on your own. It will probably take me the better part of two more days. Of course, I’ll have to weave night and day to get it done in that time frame.
“Perfect,” I said. “We’ll just be waiting right here.”
The spider turned, grasping a higher web, and hoisted her body upward. She quickly scampered down the thread and added as if speaking to herself, I’ll have to consume the boy first so I’ll have enough energy for the task ahead. I’ve never done a tapestry so complicated.
“No!” Ashleigh cried out using my voice. I clapped my hands over my mouth as the spider scurried back to me, as quick as lightning. Ananse lowered herself back down to my level, her back legs steadying the new web she hung from. Twisting her head so her fangs were within stabbing distance, she prodded me with her feelers.
What was that? the spider said, an edge of malice in her tone.
“Um, it’s just that, before you eat him, you should know that Ahmose has a very big place in my tapestry, too.”
Ananse cocked her head. Be that as it may, she said, I cannot construct something so vast without energy. Do you think my body can generate threads out of the air?
“Umm, no?”
“No” is correct. I have looked into the minds of your companions, and their potential fates are vast. In fact, the resulting tapestries might end up covering the entire island.
“But—”
She interrupted. I assure you I’m up to the task, but it will require a great deal of energy, and I am depleted. I’m sorry if your man is important in your weave, but I’ll have to leave him out.
“It’s okay.” I assured her. “We understand. Don’t we, girls?”
Of course, Tia chimed mentally.
Ashleigh didn’t answer at first. I co
uld almost taste her bitterness at having to play nice. Do what ya hafta do, beastie, she finally said.
Apparently, it was enough, for the spider moved off again, heading back to the part of the jungle where she’d cocooned Ahmose. When I thought the spider was a sufficient distance away, I mentally said, Now!
We concentrated, joining our minds together as Wasret. I knew that fear was a barrier for me. I had to let go and absolutely trust in my two inner companions. “Hurry!” I shouted aloud. I heard the crash and rustle of the trees as the spider rushed back to us at top speed. A bubble of pressure built up in my mind again as Ananse tried to block us, but she was too late. We connected fully for the first time, being spurred on in our desperation to save Ahmose, and were filled with power.
Completely calm, I opened my eyes and raised my arms. The light of the stars fractured and trickled into my frame. I looked down at my swollen leg and pulled energy from the trees and the animals and the cosmos itself, smiling as the wound closed and the poison was cleansed from my body. The spider landed on my branch with a resounding thump, jaws clacking and fangs dripping with venom.
What have you done? she demanded.
I ignored her and twisted my hands. My body became as weightless as moonlight. Slowly, it lifted of its own accord. When my legs felt straight and strong, I placed my feet on the branch. The part of me that was fairy knew how to balance instinctively. The part of me that was lioness knew I needed water, so I called water to me. It came from the air and rose from the river. When I cupped my hands, it pooled in the center. I drank until the lioness settled.
Lily, you have overstepped— the spider began.
“No, Ananse,” I said, my voice quiet as distant thunder. “It is you who have overstepped.”
The spider backed up, feelers twitching in the air. I knew she was desperate to touch me. Knew her feelers were how she read the minds of her prey. When I lowered my hands, her feelers mimicked my action and became useless.
“But you are not really Ananse, are you?” I said. “This is the name the mortals have given you.”
How do you know this? the spider asked. Why do you speak to me in such a way?
“I know many things, fallen one. I know that you were once brilliant and beautiful. You were born a megaraneae, a cosmic weaver, entrusted with the most important task, creating balance and documenting history. But you sought power, and you broke the fundamental laws that governed your kind. When the cosmos could no longer ignore your crime, justice came for you, but you hid from it. Just like you hide from your true name.”
You do not know of what you speak.
“Why, of course I do. Oh, it’s not the name you started out with. No, this name is one you’ve crafted for yourself. It’s your true name. It’s branded on your heart. Isn’t it, Abject Anthropophagus?”
In my mind, the spider screamed. Her long legs trembled, and she fell off the branch, landing in a web several feet below that held her quivering body. The human in me thought the spider looked like she’d been hit with a giant can of bug spray.
I leaned over the branch, looking down upon her. “Do you hear that name echo on the ocean of emptiness in which you live? Despite your ravenousness,” I continued, “you will refrain from eating.” The human in me cautioned that I must get my wording exactly right. “And when justice comes for you”—I leaned forward, staring into her jeweled eyes—“and I assure you it will, you will embrace your own fate with open arms—or legs, in your case.”
When I stepped closer, the spider scrambled back, limp feelers trailing, hanging loosely on either side of her head. “I’d suggest you use the time between now and then to ponder the selfish choices you’ve made in your too long life. Then take the opportunity to weave your own introspective tapestry. Make sure you include your own ending. If it’s any comfort, it will be the grandest work you’ve ever done.”
The spider only trembled as it answered, Yes, mistress.
“Very good. Now I suggest you lead the way to my traveling companion and free him from your web. We have much work to do.”
As you wish. Ananse righted herself weakly and, on shaking legs, made her way down, pausing only to make sure I followed.
She took me on a winding path through the trees of the jungle and down strands of webbing, creating new webs where they had become weak. I trailed behind, stepping lightly and confidently, my balance perfect, my mind and spirit harmonious and focused. In fact, it wasn’t until we approached Ahmose, and the spider drew her fang down the side of the cocoon holding him, that I felt my control as Wasret slipping.
The fairy part of me struggled to break free, but I maintained enough power to place my hand on his cheek and direct the moonlight into his body. There was something wrong with him. Something inside that I couldn’t fix quickly, and time was of the essence. I was, however, able to eradicate the poison. He took a deep breath and blinked open his eyes.
“Lily?” he said.
I shook my head. “You speak to Wasret now, Son of Egypt.”
If I’d wished to use my power upon him, I could have, but I balked at the idea. I did not wish to control him and, besides, Ahmose had not yet reached the time when a final name should be assigned. His true name would be revealed later. I closed my eyes. There was something to come regarding this man and his brothers, and it was related to my own future. I considered turning my power upon myself to discover my own true name. Wasret was the name given to me by the cosmos, but I was more than that. I sensed it at my core.
The spider had woven the fate of Lilliana Young, at least partially. I wondered what she’d see if she’d had the ability to weave my fate. Then again, I knew no one in the cosmos, not even the last remaining megaraneae, could discern what I would become. I’d have to wait and find out for myself.
The fairy continued to pull, breaking pieces of her consciousness away as Ahmose shifted and freed himself from the web cocoon. Alarmed at the fairy’s strength and determination, and too weak to stop her, I commanded the spider to leave us and told Ahmose to follow. I stepped off the web and fell lightly to the ground. Despite the distance, my body absorbed the impact easily.
Ahmose followed as I made my way back toward the clearing. Once there, I turned to look on the spider’s domain. Closing my eyes, I sensed her watching us but as long as I was Wasret, she could not act against me. Not while I used her true name.
“Come,” I said to Ahmose. “We must return quickly to the village. Your brothers await.”
The fairy bucked against me as Ahmose took my hand. “Are you all right?” he asked, concern etching his voice. He pulled a leaf from my hair and cupped my neck. “I saw the spider bite you.”
“Yes,” I replied. “She did. But I have healed myself.”
“You can heal?” he asked.
“It’s a simple thing,” I replied, cocking my head. “You yourself have this ability.”
“True. I didn’t know Wasret did, though.”
I nodded, ready to move on but then paused and cupped the back of Ahmose’s head, bringing his lips down to mine. He pulled me against his body and ran his hands down my back until they circled my waist.
After a lengthy kiss, he raised his head. “What was that for?” he asked, a smile lifting the corners of his mouth.
“I was merely trying to appease the fairy. She wishes to dissolve our connection, but we must maintain it for at least a while longer. My ties to your realm are still too fragile. Come, Ahmose.”
I took hold of his hand and pulled him along behind me. He squeezed it and changed our hand positions so he could walk alongside. The fairy settled, and I knew that a companion such as him was an important piece of the puzzle in determining what I was, what I would become. When we entered the village, the guards wore shocked expressions. They clearly had not expected us to return.
Lifting a hand when the crowd gathered around us, I said, “You do not need to sacrifice to the spider any longer. Her time on this island is short. Still, it would be wis
e for you to avoid her domain. If you get caught in her web, the venom will still affect you.”
If they were surprised that I could suddenly and fluently speak their language, they didn’t show it. “What have you done?” the tiny king demanded as the crowd parted to let him through. “If you’ve angered Ananse…,” he threatened, shaking a finger at me.
“Insidious imperator, you will bring forth the calabash gourds immediately. If I so choose, I could have you groveling at my feet, but we are short on time. We have completed your tasks. We have survived the spider. Do as I say before you suffer the consequences.”
The men scrambled even as the king stared sullenly. I knew he was trying to find a loophole. Some way he could punish me to instill fear in his followers. To show he was the man in charge. My fingers twitched to humble him, but it was not necessary. The king took a step back and bowed, if not sincerely then at least obviously. His soldiers followed his example, and three of them stepped forward, producing the gourds.
I smiled, narrowing my eyes at the king. I’d guessed his game. He’d never intended to give us what we sought. In one gourd, there was a snake. A poisonous and deadly one. In the next was a rotten fruit teeming with tiny insects. One bite from any of them would cause a terrible sickness. The third gourd was supposed to contain a map. It did, but what Ahmose had not been able to discern was that the map was drawn on Ananse’s web. It would leach poison into anyone who touched it, also bringing death.
“What a clever king you are,” I said. “I’d like to offer you a bargain.”
“A bargain?” he asked, fingers twitching greedily.
“Yes. If we choose the map, you will carry it for us and lead us to our destination personally.”
His eyes became thin slits. “And should you choose something else?”
“If we choose a different gourd, then Ahmose will give you his power to summon the rain. And,” I added, “you may keep my weapons.”
The king frowned at this. I knew he’d intended to keep my weapons all along, but he rubbed his jaw as he considered the possibility of gaining Ahmose’s power.