The Arraku shuddered, its legs twitching with weak spasms as it fought the lingering haze of spider madness. Its body was heavy, its mind fragmented, but the brief connection—the Spider Queen’s signal—had given it strength. Its head shifted, and its eight glowing eyes locked onto Kleo. A thought rippled outward, telepathic energy radiating through the clearing like a hum beneath the skin.

  Cluster.

  The word had not been spoken, yet it resonated deep in Kleo’s mind, carrying a strange pressure of meaning. She staggered, and her eyes widened as the others exchanged uncertain glances. The Arraku’s mandibles clicked together as it pressed the thought, more insistent this time.

  Cluster.

  The thought carried a strange warmth—a sense of belonging, of purpose rediscovered. The Arraku felt its fragmented mind pulling together, threads of coherence weaving through the madness. It examined its surroundings, its new cluster taking shape in its alien perception.

  The Queen was the center, radiant with power and bearing the undeniable right to lead. Next to her was her trusted hand—loyal, strong, and brimming with potential—the servant who would enforce her will. The others were the brothers of the cluster, guardians bound to protect and serve the Queen’s purpose.

  With painstaking effort, the Arraku raised itself, its movements slow and deliberate. It lowered its body in a slow, deferential bow, extending one foreleg toward the Queen. The signal that followed was clear and unwavering:

  Serve.

  Kleo’s breath caught, her voice a whisper as she said, “It just bonded to me.”

  The Arraku’s mind swelled with satisfaction as she accepted its signal, returning it: Serve. In the response, it understood her acknowledgment of its devotion. She had claimed it, and the Arraku would protect her and this new cluster. It would serve its purpose, renewed by the fragile sense of belonging it had regained.

  Strength returning, the Arraku shifted, raising one leg, weak and unsteady, to point toward the forest. It focused its intent and pushed another signal outward: demana.

  The word hung in their minds like a beacon, urgent and purposeful. The cluster stirred, following the direction of its pointed limb. His queen moved first, and the Arraku’s eyes remained fixed on her. It watched as she stepped past, heading into the woods. To show its reverence, it lowered its body, waiting until the senior members of the cluster had followed before moving to take its place at the rear. This was its role. It would serve and protect, even if it meant remaining lowest in their hierarchy. That was its purpose, and it needed a purpose to survive.

  The group followed the creature’s guidance, tracing a trail through broken branches and disturbed earth. At the trail’s end, they found him—the demana male sprawled beneath a tree, his face pale and his breath labored. He groaned, clutching his head as if trying to steady the world around him.

  “Thespis,” Kleo said, kneeling beside him. Her voice was steady but tinged with concern. “You’re hurt.”

  The Arraku stood at the edge of the clearing, watching its Queen tend to the fallen demana. He was proud. She was growing the cluster, making it stronger. This was the cluster’s purpose: strength. The Arraku knew that he would follow wherever his Queen led.

  Thespis blinked at Kleo, his face pale and streaked with dirt. “Kleo? Oh, thank the gods, you’re here. I was attacked—I fought it off as best I could,” he stammered, his voice trembling. “It’s a miracle I survived.” The fear in his eyes betrayed the bravado of his words, and they all knew—he had fled, leaving Junas and Calman to die.

  Rugr stepped into view, looming over Thespis like a shadow. Thespis shrank back, his heart sinking at the sight. After his father, mother, and Barto, Rugr embodied Astirian authority. Stern and unyielding, Rugr demanded respect merely by existing. Thespis knew Rugr wasn’t a man he could manipulate, but he clung to hope—Rugr would have to show him some deference. He was Markus’s son, after all.

  Thespis extended a shaky hand, expecting Rugr to help him to his feet. Rugr ignored it.

  “What happened, Thespis?” Rugr’s voice was flat and cold. “The truth.”

  Thespis flinched under his gaze. “We… we found the wagon late, so we made camp. It started raining, and Junas—the fool—decided to sleep in the wagon.” His words stumbled, faltering as the group stared at him, their silence like judgment.

  “Then… then we checked on him, and he was just standing there—standing upright but dead. He was twitching like a puppet on strings. It—it was horrible.” His hands trembled as the memory washed over him.

  Rugr’s voice dropped an octave, rough as gravel. “Then what?”

  “I—I don’t know. It happened so fast. I hit my head and blacked out. When I woke up, I stumbled here.” He shifted uncomfortably, aware of how hollow his story sounded, even to him.

  Rugr’s eyes narrowed, the disgust in his gaze unmistakable. “Junas and Calman are dead. Who else was with you?”

  Thespis’s lip quivered as guilt and loss crashed over him. Calman had been his teacher and mentor—though Thespis had never applied himself as a student, it was a fact he regretted now more than ever. “It was the three of us… and Sela Roce.” His voice rose, panic-stricken. “Where’s Sela? Did you find her?”

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

  The group exchanged glances. Thespis’s heart sank further. She’s missing.

  That’s when he noticed the massive spider standing behind them, its unblinking green eyes fixed on Kleo. Thespis froze, his face draining of what little color it had left. “The… the bug—bug thing—” he stammered, his finger pointing in terror. “It’s right behind you!”

  Before anyone could respond, he screamed and leaped to his feet, only to slam into the nearest tree. He crumpled to the ground in a heap, clutching his head.

  The Arraku sent a single telepathic signal: Waste.

  Rugr glanced at the creature, his expression unreadable. “I agree with you on that,” he muttered, hauling Thespis to his feet by the collar. The boy wheezed, clutching at Rugr’s iron grip. “You have nothing to fear from the ‘bug bug,’” Rugr growled, his voice low and dangerous. “Unless you lie to me again.”

  Thespis’s eyes widened in horror, darting between Rugr and the creature. The realization hit him like a physical blow: They’re working with it. They killed Junas and Calman. Now I’m next. His fear morphed into desperate indignation. “You’re with them!” he shouted, his voice cracking. “You killed them! You killed Junas and Calman! What have you done with Sela?”

  Rugr silenced him with a swift punch to the stomach. Thespis doubled over, gasping for air, tears springing to his eyes. “We didn’t kill Junas and Calman, you fool,” Rugr snapped. “We found that thing lying next to Calman’s body. We think it’s broken—or something. And as for Sela, you’re probably the last one to see her alive. So stop casting blame and tell me the truth.”

  Thespis sank to his knees, his stomach burning, his head spinning. He didn’t want to believe Rugr, but he knew the man’s reputation. Rugr didn’t lie—he didn’t have to. The weight of it all—the death, the fear, the guilt—crushed him. Thespis broke down, sobbing. “I didn’t see anything, all right? I ran! I saw Junas, and I panicked! The last thing I remember was screaming in the dark, and then I woke up here. I don’t know what happened to Calman or Sela. That’s the truth! It’s everything I remember.”

  Rugr’s expression hardened. The disgust was back, cutting deeper than any words could. Thespis avoided Kleo’s gaze, unwilling to face his sister. “Get up,” Rugr said, his voice eerily calm. “We’re returning to the camp to search for signs of Sela. Pray we find her alive, Thespis. I’m already tempted to gut you and leave you next to Calman. At least then, your father would never have to know about your cowardice.”

  Thespis staggered to his feet, clutching his stomach, his breaths shallow and uneven. The group began to move, and he limped after them, casting nervous glances at the spider creature and the man dragging him toward an uncertain fate.

  As they returned to the camp, Jack leaned closer to Kleo, keeping his voice low to avoid being overheard. “I kind of see why you never told me you had a brother.”

  Kleo gave him a mild glare. “You’re not wrong, Jack, but now’s not the time, okay?”

  He nodded, conceding the point. “I need to try something. Maya mentioned she made a connection. I want to give it a shot.”

  Kleo stopped and turned to him, her brow furrowing in concern. “Why?”

  “It’s something the Whispering Secret said—about making the connection and taking the bait.”

  “Is that what you were muttering earlier?” she asked.

  “It’s been on my mind,” Jack admitted.

  Kleo sighed and motioned for Maya and Will to join them. “Jack wants to try recreating the connection you made,” she explained. “He thinks it’s important.”

  Maya’s expression darkened. “I felt something on the other side of it, Kleo. It was terrifying. Jack might be playing with fire.”

  Jack held up his hands. “I get where you’re coming from, Maya, but this is important. Besides, my Kull magic seems to give me some protection. I can’t explain it, but it’ll keep me safe.”

  “Or it might not,” Will countered. “Maya’s right. We should wait until we understand what’s on the other side.”

  Kleo hesitated, glancing between Jack and Maya. “Jack, you need to be careful. If something feels wrong, you pull back immediately. Got it?”

  Jack nodded. “I will. Trust me.”

  Despite their reservations, the group agreed to let him proceed.

  When they returned to the clearing, Jack turned to the Arraku and waved it over. “Bug bug, come here.”

  The creature remained motionless.

  Kleo sent the mental signal. Rest.

  The Arraku immediately folded its legs beneath itself and settled on the ground, eyes closing.

  “What now?” Rugr grumbled as he and Thespis approached.

  “Jack wants to follow up on Maya’s experience,” Kleo explained. “See if he can learn something.”

  Rugr’s expression remained skeptical. “If you’re going to do it, see if you can find out what happened to Sela Roce. I don’t want to leave her out here, dead or alive.” Jack nodded. He wasn’t sure that’s how it worked, but he would try.

  Kneeling next to the creature, he placed his hand on its back, and the connection surged. Alien thoughts flowed into his mind, overwhelming at first, but the jumble coalesced into fragments of meaning. The Arraku’s thoughts revolved around Cluster and Queen. Jack was stunned to feel the creature’s reverence for Kleo. It wasn’t only loyal—it saw her as its primary reason for existence.

  Then Jack felt it—the second presence. It was distant at first but grew stronger and darker as he focused. The malevolence filled his awareness like a creeping shadow. Unlike Maya, Jack remained detached, his Kull magic acting as an invisible shield against corruption. He observed her presence as if from a great distance, aware but unaffected.

  Curiosity pierced the connection. The presence probed the link, intrigued by the bond. Failure, the thought hissed, laced with disdain. It was a message intended for the spider. It ignored her, its thoughts steadfast, droning on Cluster and Queen.

  Another signal came through the link: Nest. The presence summoned the creature, calling it home and commanding it to return to its original cluster. Jack recognized the intent and felt a growing awareness from the presence. It was analyzing the situation, trying to locate the source of this unexpected power—him. He could sense what it was thinking. The thoughts were a convolution of simultaneous feelings, wrapped together like a tangle of threads.

  Fragmented thoughts of a demana female flashed through his mind: mind control, transformation, corruption, rebirth. Though the images were garbled, he knew they had to be about the missing girl, Sela Roce.

  Jack was startled when the connection surged, a powerful jolt that made him lift his hand instinctively. He blinked, grounding himself in the present, and realized the others were staring at him in shock.

  “Jack, what the hell did you do?” Rugr barked.

  Following their gazes, Jack turned and froze. A few feet from the Arraku’s head, a shimmering tear in the fabric of reality had appeared. It was like looking through a fractured window over a vast desert that shimmered under a merciless sun.

  “It’s…it’s a portal,” Maya breathed, her voice tinged with awe and fear.

  He stared at the tear, understanding the intent.

  “No,” Jack said, his voice low and steady. “That’s bait.”