Page 128 of By the Moonbeam and the Mist
“Ms. Pincette’s?” Rodhi suggested. “Yeah, that’s because they’ve been at war with each other for the last six months. All the spiders on campus are either guarding one of us, dead, or engaged in some other battle on another part of the island.”
“Wait,what?”
I blinked at him, confident that I must not have heard any of that right.
Rodhi heaved a deep breath as if in an attempt to reel in patience.
“Ms. Pincette put me in charge of the rebel spiders. That’s my secret. We killed every dickhead arachnid working for the Good Council on campus ages ago—” Here, he puffed out his chest, clearly proud as the giant fishing spiders on his shoulders nuzzled his cheeks with long, velvety legs “—and we’ve been slowly pushing our way toward Bascite Mountain ever since. Huh, guys? You’ve done so good, haven’t you?”
I needed to sit down. Or gulp some wine.
Still not quite believing what I was hearing, I repeated, “There’s a spider civil war going on?”
“Yes.”
“But why?”
“Well…” Rodhi pulled a grimace. “Dyonisia Reevemayhave squashed one of their princesses with her shoe last year. Now, granted,” he hurried on as he saw my expression change, “there are about a thousand prince and princess spiders on the island, but given that there are around two hundredmilliontotal… it offended them, to say the least. So the ones faithful to the royal family asked Ms. Pincette for help, she organized a resistance for them, and they’ve been battling ever since.”
One of the fishing spiders on his shoulders added in a high-pitched, clicking voice. “We will not serve and spy for someone who would so easily murder our revered in cold blood.”
My gut was churning. I knew exactly what spider princess Rodhi was talking about, though I’d never even asked for its name. I’d seen it in the memories I’d uncovered with Garvis, seen how it had helped me and spied for me during the short remainder of its—her—life.
The rest of it was clicking into place, too. Not just the absence of all the spiders and Rodhi’s disappearances, but what Gileon had claimed in class that one day, too:Nuisance says Rodhi’s off on a high-stakes adventure, battling deadly foe and winning armies to his name.
God, that had actually been true all along. And Ms. Pincette hadknown…
“She putyouin charge of the spider resistance?” I asked, wanting to make sure I understood this completely.
“Well, yeah. You and I both know I’m the only one who would die for her. And she knew it, too.”
I couldn’t tell if Rodhi looked sad or upset about this fact. His face had gone slightly taut, as if trying to mask something deeper. The topic obviously wasn’t something he was comfortable discussing, so I grabbed at a question that would pivot us away from Ms. Pincette.
“Does Dyonisia know?”
Rodhi’s face lit up. “Oh yeah. And she’spissed. But her Wild Whisperers on the Good Council have no idea who’s behind the resistance because… well, we’ve been killing their spies faster than they can scuttle back up the mountain to report it.”
I stared at him, suddenly in awe.
“And you’ve been—what? Using the dolphins for transportation?”
It made sense why Rodhi had made such instant friends with the creatures during Mr. Conine’s class. He’dalreadybeen friends with them. It was a wonder none of us had caught on.
Rodhi, however, was squinting as a new water spider crawled up his body and whispered something into his ear.
His eyes switched to me, then to the trees where I had heard rummaging not too long ago.
“We know you’re there, Temperton!” he called out. “ You don’t have to hide anymore!”
My mouth popped open as a frustrated sigh came from within the trees. A few seconds later, the branches rustled and… Dazmine did indeed step out onto the riverbank, brushing mud off her shirt.
“Were you following me?” I asked her incredulously.
“Well, yeah.” She didn’t even have the audacity to look ashamed, though she shot a filthy glance in Rodhi’s direction. “You looked really dodgy at the marketplace.”
“Are you serious right now?”
Dazmine had still been coming with me to the lighthouse every Sunday, going round and round with Terrin about whether this or that plan would help break the exiled ones out of prison—which often resulted in more bickering than my ears could handle. Yet that shared secret between us, the Sundays we spent together… I’d thought it had made us, not friends, exactly, butallies.
