Chapter Two: Tangled Webs

Flynn was thirteen the first time he met the lord's daughter. He'd felt very pleased with himself that day because his father said he was old enough to accompany him to the manor to help him carry the bags of wool being delivered. He'd taken a bath that morning and worn his Sunday clothes, but still felt awed and out-of-place inside the imposing manor on the hill. He would have been happy to drop off the wool at the servant's entrance, but the lord wanted to meet with Flynn's father to discuss matters of the village. Flynn was left standing in a hallway and warned not to wander off. Flynn waited with his hands behind his straight back, afraid to be found slouching in the lord's manor in case it was taken as an offence. The warning not to wander off was unnecessary, because he was so afraid of accidentally tracking sheep manure on the pristine stone floors (even though he'd scrubbed his boots the night before) he didn't want to walk at all.

"Good day."

Flynn startled around to see a young girl at the end of the hall. She smiled as she approached him, her pale blue gown sweeping the stone floors. Flynn's heart skipped a beat and he quickly bent in a bow. "G-good afternoon, my lady." He'd seen the lord's daughter from a distance before but had never prepared himself for the eventuality of speaking to her. He wasn't sure if he was even allowed, but the only way to escape would be to run away, and he was certain he wasn't allowed to do that.

"You're the bailiff's son, aren't you?"

Flynn straightened up but kept his eyes to the ground. He was taller than her, which made it difficult to show proper deference. "That's correct, my lady."

She covered her mouth in a giggle. "I'm not a lady, silly. I'd be called madam, but you can call me Estelle."

"Ah… I apologize, ma'am."

"You're funny. So do you know what our fathers are talking about?"

He risked raising his eyes. "You don't know?"

She sighed and wandered toward the window near the door. "Nobody tells me anything."

"Well… I think they're discussing what percentage of the wheat harvest will be required for tithe this autumn."

"Oh, I thought it might be exciting stuff." She folded her arms on the windowsill and peered through the glass. "Nothing exciting ever happens here."

Flynn noticed her glum face and felt compelled to try to cheer her up. "Sometimes exciting things happen. Just last week, for example, my friend tried to milk a goat but it kicked him in the face and ran for freedom. It took almost half an hour for us to chase it down and…" he shuffled his feet on the floor, realizing how dumb this story must seem to a girl wearing a dress worth more than his house. "Anyway, we caught it."

Estelle turned from the window with a smile. "That does sound exciting. Have you ever been in the forest?"

His eyebrows rose. "The old forest? Of course not. I mean, ah… I haven't, ma'am."

"Oh… I thought maybe you were allowed in. It makes sense that you're not, though, since you'd be in danger from the beast, too."

"You know about the beast, too?" He'd thought it was just a rumour spread to the village children.

Estelle bobbed her head. "Oh, yes. My nanny told me about it when I was little."

"If I may ask… what were you told about it?" He'd heard several conflicting stories about exactly what the beast was.

"Well…" an excited gleam came to her eyes. "They say that a long time ago, there was a woman who wanted to marry her true love. But there was a knight who'd fallen for her, and the woman's father demanded she marry the knight instead. The woman refused, even though the knight was very rich, because she thought he was an unpleasant person. So in the night, she ran away with her poor beloved, deep into the forest to hide. They build themselves a little cottage where they could live safe and happily away from her father and the knight. But then, the knight sent out a party of hunting dogs and tracked them down in the forest. He kicked in the door of the cottage-" Estelle punched her fist to demonstrate, "and slaughtered her beloved right in front of her. The knight demanded she return with him to be his bride, but she was so grief-stricken by the death of her beloved that she took a knife murdered him right then and there, and then slit her own throat, too. But because she'd killed a man, she couldn't go to heaven, so her soul was trapped in the forest. Now she roams through the trees, sad and lonely and envious of the living - and especially of those who get to be with their true loves."

"The beast is a woman?"

"According to the story, at least. This happened a really long time ago, so no one remembers who she was, only that people who wander into the forest are horribly killed by whatever dwells inside."

"Wow… I wonder if that's true."

Estelle shrugged. "The only way to find out would be to explore the woods yourself. I'd be interested, but… I don't know if I'm brave enough to wander through a cursed forest."

Flynn was at a loss for a response, because agreeing with her would be insulting her by calling her a coward, but saying she was surely brave would be disagreeing and you weren't supposed to contradict a noble. Luckily, he was saved from answering by the door opening and his father exiting. Flynn gave another bow and then left with his father.


Flynn brushed a spider off his arm when he woke up. He'd been dreaming about being chased through a blizzard by a sheep with fangs, intent on skinning him alive and wearing it as a cloak. It couldn't have been a very long dream, though, because he knew it had taken hours for him to fall asleep up here and it was still barely dawn. He yawned and stretched his arms, then grabbed a nearby branch to sit up and pop his back. His neck ached from from the awkward sleeping position and his stomach rumbled.

Flynn opened the pouch hanging from his belt and pulled out the last of his food. It was going to be a hungry day. Flynn was no stranger to hunger, though he'd never felt it at this time of year. It usually didn't kick in until late winter, when supplies were running low. He couldn't complain though, he thought as he shoved day-old bread in his mouth. His father's position gave him more privileges than most in the village. Yuri had gone hungry more often than he ever had.

As he chewed on the hard bread, he massaged his hand and untied the cloth tied around it, which was now stained with dark brown splotches. He pulled it away and licked his palm after swallowing his bread. Spitting out the taste of copper, he frowned as fresh blood rose to spill from the cut. How could it still be bleeding more than a day after receiving it? He thought he'd only scraped the outer layer of skin, but it must be deeper than he thought. No wonder it still dimly throbbed. With nothing else to use, he re-tied the dirty cloth around his hand.

With his meagre breakfast finished, Flynn resigned himself to beginning the day's hike. Yuri had been missing for a full day now, and Flynn tried not to get disheartened. He straightened his cloak and began the slow, stiff climb to the forest floor. As he went, his eyes and ears were alert for any sign of the beast that had chased him up here last night. He saw nothing, but the morning mist made it hard to see clearly. At least the sun had risen to fill the wood with pale brown light.

His feet hit the leaves with a crunch and his muscles tensed, ready for attack. None came. Flynn let out a breath that joined the mist and hoped this silence meant the beast was gone. His mind raised the possibility that it had actually been nothing more than a wolf, and in the dark his fear had transformed it into a monster. Then Flynn turned to the tree and saw the deep gouges slashed through the bark, as high up as the lowest level of branches. The bark around the claw marks was stained red from the odd sap that had oozed from them like bloody wounds. Flynn trailed his fingers over one set of foot-long parallel marks and tried to imagine a simple wolf making them. He suddenly felt a strong desire to keep moving and get out of this place.

First he backtracked. It was easy to follow the path he'd made last night, because the broken branches marked a clear trail. He followed the tinkle of the creek and arrived on the rocky edge of the water. His bow was caught by a boulder, snapped in two. Flynn picked up the waterlogged pieces, still linked by the string. The wood had snapped cleanly in two, and he didn't see any way to salvage it. Groaning in frustration, he tossed the useless pieces into a bush. Fat lot of good it had done him. At least he still had his knife, so he didn't feel completely defenceless… just mostly.

He hopped the brook and followed the trail of broken branches and disturbed leaves until he found his lantern. It sat on the tree stump where he'd left it, the inside a mess of melted wax. Flynn picked it up with a sigh; what a waste of a candle. He only had one more, but he really hoped to find Yuri today and get out of this rotten forest. He tied the lantern to his belt and started walking in the direction he'd intended to go last night. A few minutes later, he spotted what he'd been looking for: a boot print in the mud. He was still on the trail.

The forest was still, but after last night, it felt deceptive. His stomach growled and Flynn wondered if monsters lurking behind the trees could hear it. When his trail took him past a rotting log covered in mushrooms, he had to pause and consider how hungry he was. He recognized those mushrooms as the type they often gathered for extra food, but never from this forest. Considering the strange, blood-red liquid that oozed from the trees, Flynn was uncertain about eating anything growing in here. Ignoring his empty stomach, he kept walking.

Yuri's path took him across a bend in the creek and through a patch of clover. He passed mossy logs and boulders covered in lichen, and every few minutes who glanced up at movement in the mist. Flynn told himself the shapes moving, just far enough away that they were smudges in the bluish morning fog, were deer. He wasn't sure how much he believed that, but they never came close so hopefully it wouldn't be an issue.

He entered a grove of birch trees, their trunks sickly white and covered in black whirls that looked like eyes, watching him pick his way around prickly bushes. Wind blew, dragging dead leaves over each other and making the breeze rattle like a dying breath. A chipmunk rustled in a bush, and then a much more violent shaking got his attention.

A short tree nearly engulfed in ivy rattled its leaves and waved it branches. Flynn froze, watching it carefully before getting any closer. When nothing burst out to eat him, he edged toward it with his hand on his knife. Closer, he made out a flutter of black and white feathers. Calming down, he rounded the tree to see past the obscuring leaves.

Just above his head, a magpie thrashed in a spiderweb. Flynn didn't want to imagine the spider that had spun a web with such thick and tough strands, which wrapped around the bird's wings. Feeling bad for it, he pulled out his knife.

"Shhh, calm down." Flynn rested one hand on the bird's back, trying to still it so he didn't accidentally cut it. The bird seemed unhappy with his touch, but he held it firmly as it shrieked its displeasure. The knife easily slashed through the silk, and as soon as it was free, he let go.

The bird shook its wings and fluttered to a higher branch, watching him carefully. Flynn was getting pretty tired of being watched in the forest, even by something as innocent looking as this magpie. It cocked its black-feathered head. It's chest was snowy white, and its wings were edged in iridescent blue.

"You don't have a friend around, do you?" Flynn said to the bird. "I'd prefer to see two of you. One for sorrow, two for joy and all that. I think I've had quite enough of sorrow."

The bird squawked, "Nope, just little old me."

Flynn jolted back. "You can talk!"

"Can I? Gee, I never noticed."

"Magpies aren't supposed to talk…."

"Well no one ever told me that."

"Probably because they couldn't talk."

"Hm, could be. Thank you for rescuing me, by the way. I really do hate spiders." The bird swept one wing around to its chest and gave a little bow. "My name is Judith. What shall I call my heroic saviour?"

"It's… Flynn." His hand started to move forward, but stopped. How did you shake hands with a bird?

"You shouldn't be in this forest, you know. It's not safe."

"I'm aware. I was nearly eaten last night… I think."

"Hm, I can relate." She bobbed her head toward the tattered remains of spider silk.

"When you say it's not safe, are you only talking about the beast?"

"Beast?" she cocked her head to the side. "What do you mean?"

"Well… it's a monster that dwells in this forest. If you live here, you must have heard about it."

"It's possible, but maybe we have a different name for it. What does it look like?"

Every description he'd ever heard flashed through his head, and the only thing any of them had in common were that they were all unpleasant. "I'm not sure, actually. No one really knows what it looks like. I think it's a giant wolf-like beast that attacked me last night, but…" he considered the shadowy figure he'd seen through the mist and the spectre he'd glimpsed for half a second behind the tree. "It might be something completely different."

"I don't know about any giant, hulking monsters in this forest. Too bad, it sounds exciting."

Flynn frowned. "I think I could do without the hulking monsters, having seen one myself." He wondered if Yuri had encountered anything like he had, and if Yuri was still determined to find his hidden treasure or this whole thing was running in a circle as Yuri tried to find his way home. It was so frustrating that he was always just behind Yuri; close enough to follow his train but not near enough to actually see a trace of him. Then something else occurred to him. "Hang on, you say you haven't seen any monsters, correct? Then why do you say this forest isn't safe?"

"More than monsters can harm you, you know. The forest hasn't eaten in a long time."

His brow wrinkled. "The… forest? How does a forest eat?"

"The same way everybody else does, I imagine. You ought to leave before it gobbles you up. What brings you here?"

"I'm looking for someone. My…" he hesitated over what word to describe Yuri. Lover? He shook those thoughts away. "Friend. My friend came in here looking for something, and now I'm looking for him. You haven't seen him, have you?"

"Another person?" She cocked her head. "Not that I've seen. I haven't seen any other humans in this forest in my whole life."

"Ah… well, thank you anyway."

"Not at all! I should be thanking you. You saved my life, after all. Is there any way I can repay you?"

Flynn considered for a moment and then shrugged. "I'm not sure." He considered sending a message back home to let his father know where he and Yuri were, but he doubted his father would be willing to speak with a magpie. It would probably do nothing but frighten him. Sending a letter would be convenient, but he'd never learned to write and nobody he would send it to knew how to read. "I can't think of anything I need, unless you can take me to Yuri."

"Ooh, too bad. I guess this is farewell, then. I'll keep my eye out for your friend, though!"

"Thank you! Uh, safe flights."

"Oh, and just a word for the wise. I'd keep your light off, if I were you. It's going to attract unwanted attention." Judith squawked and then took to the air. Flynn watched her fly away with envy, wishing he had wings to take him up above the trees and quickly away from this forest.

Flynn started walking again and found himself wishing he'd asked Judith to stay with him. He didn't know what help a bird could be, but having someone to talk to could steady his nerves, even if that someone wasn't what he normally thought of as a someone. Overheard, silhouettes of bird stood out as they flew across a sky as white as bone, and he wondered if they could talk, too. Maybe all birds could talk, he never listened.

As he walked, he considered her parting words. His lantern still hung from his waist, but it wasn't currently lit. He supposed she had meant that he shouldn't light it this evening, but that thought worried him. He needed light when the sun went down, because stumbling through the forest in the dark would do nothing but get him lost or sprain his ankle. Although… he couldn't help but recall how the woods had gone deathly still last night the moment he lit his lantern. He'd had a thought: the forest didn't like that. Shortly after, that beast had appeared to chase him up a tree. Perhaps Judith was right about carrying a light through the forest. As dangerous as it would be to stumble blindly in the dark, perhaps it would be even more dangerous to light his lantern. He had no idea how much longer this journey through the woods was going to take, though, and maybe he'd be lucky enough to catch up to Yuri later today. That still left the walk home, but he hoped it would be safer with two of them.

Ahead, a brook babbled over rocks. He ground sloped down into soft mud and Flynn smiled at the sight of clear footprints along the bank, the impression of the boots still crisp. Yuri couldn't have been here more than a few hours ago and Flynn fought the urge to shout Yuri's name. He wasn't keen on drawing too much attention to himself in this forest. Flynn followed the course of the stream and added his own bootprints over Yuri's. He could tell from the distance between them that Yuri had been walking leisurely, so Flynn quickened his pace and tried to close the distance between them.

When the day had warmed toward noon, Flynn spotted something on the other side of the brook. He slowed his face as he approached and came to a stop next to a rotting log half in the water, dead leaves clumping along its length. About fifty feet from the edge of the water was a house. It had stone walls overgrown with ivy and wildflowers grew from its thatched roof. At one point, a dirt path had led from the door to the brook, but it had mostly been retaken by long grass and weeds. Could someone still live there? Flynn turned his head to follow the course of Yuri's footsteps along the river and then looked back at the cottage. His stomach growled and he considered the few bites of food he had left that were all he had to tide himself over until he got back to the village, and his quiver of arrows felt extra heavy with the knowledge they were useless without a bow. Even if no one lived there now, they may have left supplies behind.

He hopped over the brook and approached the wooden door of the hut. Slender white birch trees surrounded the clearing and wildflowers took advantage of the sun to spread out around the building. It looked like it had been here for many years and the hinges creaked as he pushed it open. The cottage had no windows, so he left the door open to let in a shaft of light. Dust hovered in the beam of light and he breathed in must and dirt.

"Hello?" Flynn didn't expect a response, and he didn't receive one. It was a one-room cottage with a sleeping area in the back corner. In the middle of the room was a solid oak table covered in dust, and a stone hearth took up much of the left wall. He looked up, but the light from the door wasn't enough to dispel the darkness covering the underside of the thatch and he saw nothing but black. Then he looked down and his stomach turned. The dusty wooden floor was stained dark brown in roughly-circular pattern about the same diameter as he was tall. Blood. He sniffed the air but it held nothing but dust and old wood. There was no sign of a body,

Against one wall was a wooden chest. In his own home, that was where supplies were kept, so he approached it and hoped for the best. Decaying wood splintered under his fingers and cobwebs ripped apart as he pried it open. Something moved and he flinched before realizing it was just a spider scurrying away from the sudden light. In the bottom of the chest, he found scraps of fabric mostly eaten by moths, a set of wooden cutlery caked in dust, and two thick silver coins. Flynn picked them and up squinted at the tarnished coins; he didn't recognize the pictures printed on the back. He considered pocketing them, because silver was silver, but he felt uneasy. Though the cottage had clearly been abandoned, he couldn't shake the feeling that he wasn't alone in here. It would be best, he decided, to leave everything where it was and return to Yuri's path.

As he straightened up, he heard a voice.

"Is someone there?"

Flynn whirled around, but the cottage was just as empty as before. "Hello?

"I'm here," came a woman's voice. "Is someone up there? Please, help."

He pinpointed the voice as coming from the floor. Flynn left the trunk and followed the sound toward the back corner of the room until he spotted the outline of a trapdoor. "Are you down there?"

"Yes!" the woman's voice came. "Please, I was locked down here and I can't get out."

Flynn dropped to his knees. "Don't worry, ma'am, I'll help you." There was a bolt across the trapdoor that had rusted shut, so Flynn pulled out his knife and began scraping it away. "How did you get down there?"

"Th-there was a beast." He could hear tears in her voice. "I was living here with my husband, but when the beast attacked…. He told me to hide down here and he'd fight it off. But that was ever so long ago and I'm afraid that the fight didn't go in his favour."

Flynn thought about the blood all over the floor and cringed. He concentrated on chiselling away the rust that kept the latch stubbornly in place. As he worked, he wondered what he was going to do with the girl once he freed her. She could hardly stay here alone, and he couldn't send her back to the village on her own. He supposed she'd have to come with him until he found Yuri, but he was already out of food and would have to resort to scavenging from the forest for tomorrow. Bringing an extra person with him would just make everything more difficult. Maybe if he was lucky, she had some supplies down in the cellar with her. That was unlikely, though. Based on the decay up here, he doubted any food stores could have lasted… this long….

Flynn's knife fell still. He'd been working for almost ten minutes, and finally he'd made enough progress on the latch that he was pretty sure he could tug it open by now. However, his hands made no movement for the trapdoor. Quietly, he asked, "How long have you been down there?"

"I don't know," her frightened voice replied. "So long. I want to get out, please."

Flynn took a slow, considering breath. "Are you comfortable down there? I mean, do you have supplies, food?"

"No, please, it's just dark and cold down here. Please let me out."

Flynn breathed deeply. This cottage was in such a state of neglect that it was obvious no one had lived here for years - maybe more than a decade. Judith's words came back to him: I haven't seen any other humans in this forest in my whole life. How long was a magpie's lifespan? At least a few years. She should have seen people living in this cottage in the past few years, but she hadn't. "I'm sorry," Flynn said softly. "But I don't think I can let you out."

"What? No, please, you have to let me out! It's so dark down here, so cold… I just want to get out. Please!"

Flynn looked away from the trapdoor, feeling sick. Was this the right decision? He couldn't just abandon a girl to death because he was nervous, but he had an awful feeling that what he was talking to, if it had ever been a young woman hiding from a predator, wasn't quite that anymore.

Movement in the corner of his eye distracted him, and his head automatically turned to it. He peered up into the dark shadows of the ceiling, looking for what had moved, only to find that the ceiling was now moving. No… it wasn't the ceiling at all. Flynn's heart plummeted to his stomach as he realized that the darkness on the ceiling wasn't caused by shadows. It was spiders. Hundreds - possibly thousands - of black bodies clinging to the underside of the thatch. When he'd arrived, they'd been so still in their overlapping blanket that he'd seen nothing by the blackness of their bodies.

They were moving now, though, toward the wall…. He turned his head the other way and saw a line of them pouring to the floor like a black waterfall. On the dusty floor, the tide streamed straight toward him. And then he looked down, and realized that they'd been streaming toward him for some time now. Thick strands of milky-white silk wrapped around his calves as spiders, their bodies the size of walnuts, scuttled around and over them. With every second, more spiders reached him, crawling up his legs and spreading the silk farther. They were working on his knees now, but with every second, new spiders arrived to add their effort and speed up the process.

Flynn shouted and slashed his knife down on the nearest spider. Dozens of legs scurried away, but he managed to pin one to the wood. The spider wriggled with a single leg caught under the blade. He lifted the knife and it scuttled away. Flynn turned his attention to his legs, where he couldn't even see his trousers anymore beneath the coating of silk and spider. He slammed his knife into the space between his calves, slicing through tough bands of silk. Spiders swarmed up the blade toward his wrist and he shook them off with a shout.

"What's happening?" the voice below the trapdoor asked. "Are you letting me out?"

Flynn was too distracted to worry about her - it - whatever - right now. The spiders were climbing his thighs and he thrashed and twisted, using his arms to sweep them away. He didn't dare touch them with his bare hands, because he didn't trust them not to be poisonous. He twisted his legs, tugging them apart. With a few more slices from his knife, he managed to rip the silk completely and wasted no time in leaping to his feet. The spiders were still pouring down the wall - on both sides of the cottage now - so that the underside of the thatch was no plainly visible. Flynn staggered forward, feeling bulbous bodies burst beneath his boots. The silk hung from his calves and only his flailing arms kept the spiders from crawling under his shirt. The door out of the cottage still hung open, but there was a sea of writhing legs separating him from it. Sunlight shone on green grass and Flynn locked his eyes on it, refusing to look at the moving floor as he made a run for it.

"Wait!" the voice from the trapdoor called. "Come back! Please don't leave me here!"

The floor crunched below his boots as he ran, flailing, toward the sunlight. As soon as he cleared the door, he threw himself into the grass and rolled, arms sweeping across his body as he thrashed. He was certain he could still feel hundreds of tiny legs crawling over him, and it was a couple of minutes before he calmed down enough to stop moving.

Flynn sat up slowly, panting for breath. First he looked over himself and his stomach twisted at the mangled spider bodies crushed into his trousers. Looking up, surviving spiders darted through the weeds toward the open cottage door. "Good riddance," Flynn muttered at them as they fled the sunlight. He brushed dirt and dry grass from his arms and looked away from the cottage, back to the stream, where a thin figure stood in the shade of the trees, watching him.

Flynn's heart stopped but then sharp claws pierced his scalp and a heavy weight pressed down on his head. Panicked, Flynn yelped and batted his hands at his head. His fingers hit feathers and then the weight left, seconds before a familiar magpie landed on a rock a few feet away.

"Judith! You startled me!" His gaze turned back to the stream, but the figure was gone. Had it really been there? The trees were draped in shadows and some of them did appear vaguely humanoid. He was on edge from the spiders, so maybe….?

Judith swallowed a spider and then shook her feathers. "Oh, yuck. These are nasty."

Flynn rested a hand on his head. He was pretty sure he had a few pricks of blood on his scalp from where her talons had crashed into him. "What did you do that for?"

"Oh? Excuse me, I thought you wouldn't want a spider crawling in your hair."

Flynn couldn't suppress a shudder. "I see. Thank you, then."

"You didn't let any of them bite you, did you?"

Flynn inspected his hands, which were the only parts of exposed skin. "I don't think so. Why? What would have happened?"

The magpie cocked her head. "I'm not sure… but I don't think it would be very good. I don't like this cottage. None of us do. There's a reason none of the other creatures of the forest have made a home there."

"A warning might have been nice," Flynn grumbled. He couldn't shake the feeling that there were still bugs crawling all over him. The prickling of the grass kept making his heart skip a beat. "You could have told me before you said goodbye the first time that there's an evil cottage up ahead and not to go in it."

"Should I have? I'm sorry. I didn't think you would be stupid enough to enter a place giving off such unpleasant vibes."

"Vibes? It just looked like an empty cottage."

"Hmm, I have heard that humans are pretty blind, but I didn't realize it was this bad."

"Now you know. So is there anything else I should know?"

"I did tell you to keep your light down."

"Yes, I recall." But since the sun was still high in the sky, he didn't think that would be relevant for many hours yet. "Do you know what's in the cottage?"

"You tell me; I've never been inside."

Flynn looked over his shoulder. The moving floor had disappeared now and from here, the darkened interior sat still and innocent. "There was a girl in the cellar. Rather, the voice of a girl. She wanted me to open a trapdoor and let her out."

"Did you?"

"No." Flynn turned his head back to Judith. "Do you think I should have?"

"Oooh, that sounds fun. I wonder what it was?"

"What if I was wrong? What if it was a real person, and I was her only chance at rescue?"

"You could always go back and check."

Flynn sighed and began picked away the spider silk still clinging to his legs. "I'm lucky to have made it out without getting bitten the first time. It would be foolish to return. And if what's down there isn't human… I can't imagine releasing it would do me any good. The longer I sit here, the farther ahead Yuri is getting. No more delays." He stood and brushed the last of the silk away. "Thank you for taking care of the one in my hair. I suppose our debt is squared now, isn't it?"

"Sure. Now we've both save the other from a spider. Good luck on your search! I'll keep my eyes peeled for any other humans in the forest, just in case." She flapped twice and took to the air.

Flynn took one last glance at the cottage, sighed, and then returned to the stream to follow Yuri's footprints.


The winter Flynn was fifteen gave them more snow than he could remember seeing before. They spent most of their time huddled in their homes, filling the tiny huts with smoke from the fire. Flynn's family was lucky, because their house was bigger than most and they had a separate room to house their animals. Next door, Karol's family crowded in beside the chickens and pigs. Looking back, Flynn wondered if this was the winter that had started him down the path of thinking of Yuri as more than a friend, because during the frigid nights, Flynn's father brought Yuri in from the stable and let him sleep in the main house. Flynn slept huddled close to Yuri, sharing each other's warmth, and came to associate Yuri's closeness with comfort. By the time spring arrived, he found himself unhappy that the nights were warming up because it meant Yuri would go back to the stable with the sheep.

On a blistery morning, Karol came running into Flynn's house in panic. "Flynn! Flynn, I need your help!"

Flynn looked up from the rope he was carefully weaving together. "What's wrong?"

Karol clutched his head. "I made a mistake. I was talking to Yuri in your stable but then I accidentally left the door open when we left and now a few of the sheep got out. I don't know where they are!"

Flynn put the rope on the floor and rose from his stool. "It's all right. I'll help you look for them." He grabbed an already-made length of rope hanging by the door and put on his winter cloak.

Flynn had thought they couldn't possibly have gotten that far, but somehow sheep still surprised him. Sometimes he really hated these stupid animals, but then he pulled his wool cloak tighter against the cold and remembered why he liked them. The fact that they were white didn't endear them to him on this morning, though. He and Karol followed tracks away from the stable, until they lost them in the mess of other animal tracks. With the wind stinging his face and the thought of the warm fire at home hot on his mind, Flynn led Karol out of the village and into the broad fields between the old forest and the road. In the summer, they let the sheep graze out here, but in winter it was nothing but a hilly expanse of white with brown weeds sticking through.

"I really hope the sheep are ok." Karol struggled to make it through the two feet of snow. "What if they wandered close to the forest?"

"I don't think they'd go in." The wind was now whipping them straight on the face and snow fell into his boots and began melting around his ankles.

"What if the monster comes out though?" Karol looked to the snow-decked trees with anxiety. "Maybe it will… I don't know… burrow through the snow to avoid the light and then spring up out of the ground and eat the sheep whole! Or us!"

Flynn tried not to laugh at him. "I really don't think we need to worry about that. What kind of monster do you think it is, anyway?"

"My mother said it's a horrible creature with pincers and too many legs and even more eyes. When you go into the forest, you'll think you're all alone and then suddenly you hear a rustle in the leaves above you. Then you look up and see all its eyes peering down at you, and before you can run it drops straight down." Karol waved his hands around to demonstrate. "Then it wraps you up in its arms and starts drinking your blood while you're still alive." He shuddered with a wince. "I'd never want to meet that."

Flynn watched a clump of snow topple from a tree in the woods and wondered if some animal had disturbed it. Whatever it was, it probably hadn't been a giant spider monster. "I don't think we have to worry about that. Look, there they are!" Huddled next to a bush were a pair of sheep, munching on the few leaves remaining. "What do you two think you're doing out here?" The sheep bleated piteously at him. They were probably unhappy with being out in the cold, too. "Alright, you dummies, let's go home." He looped the end of his rope around the larger sheep's neck and gave a gentle tug. With a bit of coaxing, he got it to leave the relative shelter of the bush and the smaller one followed suit.

"Dumb sheep," Karol grumbled as they trudged through the snow back home. "If they wander away, why do we have to go after them? I bet they're doing it on purpose. They know we always have to go after them if they wander off."

Flynn laughed and looked down at the fluffy wool he was leading. "I don't know if they're cunning enough for that. It is frustrating, but it's not an option to abandon them." Part of him wished he could be the type of person who gave up on a stray sheep in favour of staying inside where it was warm and dry, but a stronger part of him was glad he wasn't. It did put a depressing tinge to his future, though, and he wondered if he'd spend the rest of his life chasing down the dumb things he cared for after they ran off.

Yuri met them at the edge of the village. "Hail icicles, well met. Cold enough for you?" Considering his nose was red as an apple, it was clearly cold enough for him.

"Now you show up. Where we you when Karol needed help fetching the sheep?"

Yuri stepped up behind Karol and wrapped his cloak around the smaller boy. "I was chopping wood for Hanks. Surely you're capable of fetching sheep without my wise guidance."

They led the sheep back to the stable and Flynn made sure to shut the door tight. Then he led the others into his warm, smoky cottage. Flynn returned to his stool and rope, while Yuri got down on the floor with Karol to play with some wooden soldiers Yuri had whittled for him last winter. Flynn smiled as he watched them play on the dirt floor. There would always be wayward sheep, but there would also always be a warm home and family to come back to.


The sun was lowering in the sky. Flynn glanced up with a sigh and knew he was going to be spending another night in the forest. He wondered if his father was more worried or angry at this point. Both he and Yuri had been gone for almost two full days now, and their missed chores back home must be causing trouble for everyone. Flynn was starting to wish he'd never started this stupid quest because it was just causing problems for other people and nearly getting him killed. If Yuri got himself killed in this forest, it would serve him right for entering in the first place. Flynn would have turned back by now if he hadn't already come so far, and he was too stubborn to give up after all the stress he'd already been through.

His path was taking him uphill. The stream still trickled along beside him, and the mud with clear footprints had given way to rocky ground. Every now and then Flynn found some trace of Yuri in a broken branch or a scuff on a boulder. As the sun set, the forest started to get chilly again and he pulled his cloak tighter around himself. His feet hurt from the constant hiking of the past two days, and his stomach moaned for sustenance. Flynn was used to going hungry, but usually it was only in the winter when there was no strenuous work to do outside. Hiking on an empty stomach was making him dizzy. At least the stream meant he had a supply of water to keep his throat from going parched, even if he did have to struggle to find a drink that wasn't full of decaying leaves drifting downstream. All he wanted was to find Yuri, punch him in the face, and then hold him tight so the idiot could never wander away again.

Pessimism asked why he was even trying so hard to save Yuri. What did he hope to get out of it? Even if he and Yuri returned home safely, they could still never be together. They were going to spend the rest of their lives tilling the land and tending the sheep in this village, where the parish church loomed over them all. Soon, Flynn would get married. He wasn't sure to whom yet, but his father had already subtly started hinting how useful it would be to have grandchildren in the house to help with the chores. He and Yuri would never be together, so he might as well keep his feelings locked inside forever and ignore them until they faded away. Part of him railed against that, but it was the stupid romantic part that dreamed of running away into the night with Yuri by his side, no matter how illogical that idea was. There was no point holding a candle for someone you could never be seen with, so he'd just find Yuri, drag his sorry arse back to the village, and forget about it. That kiss they'd shared the other day was to be a one-time thing.

The splashing of the brook was getting louder and Flynn surmised that a waterfall was up ahead. He wouldn't be surprised, considering the slope he was now climbing. Sure enough, another bend of stream took him to a sheer shelf of rock about twenty feet high, its stratified side covered in grass, roots, and dirt. The stream tumbled over it in a white spray before pooling at the base and trickling on. The stream was only about two feet wide at this point, so the waterfall was far from impressive. What did catch his eye was the crevice cutting into the rock just to the side of the water. It was as wide as two men standing abreast at the base, and slowly narrowed until the sides met at a point fifteen feet up. Around the entrance, the ground was damp earth which held a familiar set of footprints. Flynn wasn't even surprised to see that the steps led into the crevice.

Swallowing, Flynn approached the dark opening. After his experience in the cottage, he was more hesitant to enter a dark and dreary place. The sun was setting behind the rock, though, so he could barely see more than a few feet into the crevice before it blended into shadows.

"Yuri?" he called softly. He checked the ground again, but there was no mistaking the footprints leading in. "Are you there?"

Flynn held his breath, and then finally he heard a groan. He wasn't sure if he felt relief that he'd found Yuri or regret that he had to enter this cave. "Are you hurt?" The groan had bounced around the walls so much it was impossible to tell how far away the groan had come from.

"F…Flynn?" came a small voice, clearly pained. "My… my leg…."

Damn. Getting him out of the forest would take forever if he couldn't walk, plus Flynn couldn't punch him in the face if he was already injured. It also meant Yuri probably couldn't walk out of the crevice on his own. "Stay there, Yuri. I'll come get you." He was about to enter the crevice, but his skin crawled at the thought of how many bugs might be linings the damp walls. He wasn't going to fall for that one twice. Judith had warned him about using his lantern, but the risk of attracting attention in the cave was outweighed by the risk of going blind into a potentially dangerous area, where Yuri had already gotten hurt.

He untied his lantern from his belt and set it on a rock by the waterfall, then reached into his pouch to find a spare candle and his flint. Just as his fingers closed around the stone, a sharp pain lanced through his palm. Flynn yanked his hand from the bag and looked down at his palm to find a large, black spider scuttling across his fingers. Flynn shook his hand with a yelp and then stomped the bug into the ground, but the damage had been down. He turned his attention back to his palm, where a red blister was already swelling next to the blood-stained bandage.

His hand shook and his heart hammered as the dizziness from not eating all day morphed into a thicker wave that rocked around his head. The world spun, his breathing came fast, and he collapsed to the ground.