Page 113 of The Guardian's Curse

Her descent slowed, and she found herself standing on a dark, foggy expanse. A strange creature emerged from the darkness. At first, she thought it was a woman riding on a huge spider’s back, but she soon realized the woman and the spider were one. The creature’s upper body was that of an ethereal, pale woman with bright silver eyes, while her lower body was the gleaming black body of a spider. White tendrils formed her hair, floating around her angular face as if she was sinking underwater.

Shoshanna recoiled, but the creature closed the distance quickly. In a voice like the humming of crickets, the creature said, “What demands do you make of me now, witch?”

“I make no demands,” she said calmly. “Who are you?”

Silver eyes skimmed over her, and she did her best to maintain an even gaze. Finally, the spider creature nodded and said, “Your intentions are good. The one who came before called me fati aranaeum, but this name means nothing to me.”

“Do you have your own name?” Shoshanna dared to ask. “I’m Shoshanna.”

The spider creature’s head tilted slightly. Her expression wasn’t quite a smile, but it was somehow inviting. “My full name would take hours of your mortal time to hear, and you would not be able to pronounce it with your human voice. Would you like to pick a name that sounds pleasant?”

Staring at the creature with those eight gleaming onyx legs, Shoshanna could only picture Ursula, which she’d always thought was a beautiful name despite its association with a voice-stealing sea witch. “Do you like Ursula?”

The way the creature repeated it was closer to Orr-soo-lah, but her expression was a genuine smile now. “This has a pleasant sound. You may call me this, Shoshanna. I thank you for this name,” she said. Her hands lifted, displaying two tattered ribbons of dark blue, the exact color of the curse that had bound Lucia and Alistair. “You have broken these spells.”

“Were they yours?” she asked.

“Never,” Ursula said. She sighed. “But when a contract is made, a contract is honored. And when one such as me is bound, I must obey.”

“Did the Night Weaver bind you?” Shoshanna asked.

“This is truth,” Ursula said, releasing the ribbons. They dissipated in a dust that shimmered faintly before fading away. “And now I am free. I may return to the webs, to weave fate.”

“Oh,” Shoshanna said. “So you didn’t intend to hurt Alistair or me?”

“No,” Ursula said. “But it was demanded. And when a contract is forged, a contact is honored.”

The spider woman started to turn away, but Shoshanna took a step forward and blurted, “Wait, please. Can you tell me anything else? I know there are others that are cursed. Did your contract include them?”

Ursula shook her head. “These are not my contracts,” it said. “Therefore I do not know their rules.”

“Could you help me break the others? Maybe I could release your friends if they’re trapped.”

“One such as me has no friends,” it said. “Only duty.” Her stomach sank, but Ursula’s head tilted. “But this binding defies fate. It would drive apart those who fates wishes to bind together. It is improper for weavers to be bound in webs.” Ursula stepped closer and took Shoshanna’s hand. Her skin was ice cold and eerily smooth.

Searing heat burst in Shoshanna’s palm as an incandescent white thread burst from her hand. A firm tug rippled down her arm and to her spine. Lightning illuminated the dark canvas, displaying an impossibly intricate web. One single glance made Shoshanna dizzy, but she tried to follow the bright white thread. Her eyes closed involuntarily, and then it was dark again.

“I see that your thread is woven through many others,” Ursula said. “It is important for you to continue.” With a little flourish, she turned over her hand to show a gleaming silver ring. She slid it onto Shoshanna’s right ring finger. “You show respect by giving me a pleasant name, and you show respect to fate by untangling this knot that has long disrupted the flow. In return, I will give you knowledge.”

Shoshanna stared at the glowing ring. This was getting wild, even by witch standards. “What knowledge?”

“You will have insight when the time is appropriate,” Ursula said. Thunder rolled across the sky, and Shoshanna felt the ground shaking beneath her. “Now you must rest and regain your strength.”

“Wait—”

But Ursula was already gone, climbing a gleaming strand to that beautiful, dizzying web stretched across the darkness. And then it was all gone, and there was only black.

* * *

This was the worst hangover of her life. Her head felt like it would split in two. She didn’t remember drinking, but only cheap wine or cheaper tequila could make her feel this crappy.

Shoshanna opened her eyes and immediately closed them. The glow of her phone was meteor-bright, leaving glowing spots on the comforting dark of her eyelids. A furry tail flicked against her face. Without opening her eyes, she felt for the cat and scratched his back, prompting a purr. He flopped over and pushed his little bean-like toes into her cheek. Very dignified.

“Mags, I feel terrible,” she croaked. Her lips felt stuck together, and she half-wondered if he had used her face as a litter box. She slowly opened her eyes and surveyed the room around her. The dark fabric stretched overhead was unfamiliar at first, but she soon recognized the scarlet bedclothes, and the woody, clean smell of Alistair in the room. Only a single low lamp burned in the corner of the room, casting a soft, warm glow.

She’d never woken here, but it felt like home. When she reached across the bed, she found it empty. There was a folded note propped up in front of the other pillow. It read:

Drink when you wake. -A

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