And now she knows why.

She didn’t think much of it at first. El’keth was keeping her busy. The girl peppered her with a thousand questions, ranging from the invasively personal to the surprisingly dull.

“There are other Gods besides Lolth? Do they serve Her, too?”

“Why do humans cook their food?”

“What are birds? Are they dangerous?”

“Did you have sisters when you were a two-legs?”

They worked while they spoke. Teysa found that she had as much or more to learn from El’keth as she had to teach. She was still adjusting to the intricacies of her new body, and El’keth was teaching her to weave. Teysa’s thread came out terribly tangled more often than not, and she still found herself blushing with embarrassment as she pulled it out of her spinnerets. El’keth assured her that making thread was not shameful at all, but to Teysa it looked just a little too much like eliminating waste.

“No, you want a single, gentle pull,” El’keth chided. Her deft fingers snipped the strand that Teysa was working on. “Here, may I?”

“Y-yes,” Teysa stammered, feeling the heat burn in her cheeks. She was thankful that blushes did not show up well against her grey skin.

El’keth held her hands behind Teysa’s spinneret at an oblique angle, her fingers splayed. She caught the first strand of web between thumb and forefinger and wove it around her palm. Teysa concentrated on the feeling El’keth had taught her, the feeling of flowing. A skilled drider could shoot silk ten meters with enough accuracy to lasso a fly out of the air. Compared to El’keth or her mother, Teysa felt positively clumsy. But as El’keth’s figures darted and danced, the strands of silk began to smooth out and flow together like the tributaries of a river.

“That’s it!” El’keth said excitedly. “That’s wonderful! Look at this!” She held up her hands. They looked positively mummified, wrapped in ivory gloves. The sticky strands were already starting to harden into shape. El’keth shucked off her handwraps and unwound them to reveal a sheet of fresh silk.

“This, I can use,” she proclaimed. “There’s enough here for a pair of gloves. Or a hat maybe?”

“I’m sorry,” Teysa said, covering her mouth to stifle her laughter. “I still don’t think I can get over the idea of someone wearing something that came out of me. It’s too strange.”

El’keth’s eyes widened, and for a moment Teysa thought she’d accidentally offended her. Then the girl giggled back. “Where do you think the silk surface-dwellers wear comes from, anyways?” she asked. “A worm! Wouldn’t you rather wear drider silk than worm silk? At least you know I wash my spinnerets!”

Teysa chuckled. “I suppose so.”

“Come on, spinning it is the easy part!” El’keth went on. There was a childlike eagerness in her voice, an infectious kind of glee. “Let me show you how to dye and weave.”

They sat side by side at El’keth’s loom. The drider pumped its treadles in multi-legged syncopation and her hands danced across the shuttles. “Gloves, I think,” she said, eyeing the silk that spooled through the heddles. “Probably not quite big enough for you, but you could make them a gift.”

“For Aliara, maybe?” Teysa asked. A lump formed in her throat. “I don’t know…”

“Oh, she’ll love them!” El’keth clapped her hands. “You can give them to her when she gets back!”

A knife dropped down Teysa’s throat. She felt it cut a hole in her stomach, and all her good humor drained away. All at once the void was back, sucking and hungry.

“Back from where?” she asked carefully. Cold sweat flushed her forehead and the fine hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. She had a sudden premonition of doom. El’keth must have realized she had spoken out of turn—she looked up with a stricken expression on her face.

“I’m sorry,” she quavered. “I f-forgot. M-mother said…”

“What did your mother say?” Teysa loomed over El’keth. Her hands bunched into fists all of their own accord. The smaller drider shrank back, shaking.

“She left,” El’keth answered in a tiny squeak. “Aliara left. She went to… to k-kill Lord Lockh.”

Teysa sagged. The void was rising, laughing at her, and there was no strength left in her to push it back down. Her face went blank and slack and numb.

“When?” she managed in leaden tones.

“T-two days.” El’keth’s lip quaked. “I’m s-s-sorry Teysa! My mother told me not to, to, to t-tell you!”

“Not to tell me what?” Teysa’s sorrow froze, cracked, and began to boil into rage. “That she sent my Aliara on a suicide mission?”

Wordless, El’keth shook her head. “No! She wanted to go! She wanted to!”

“I’m sure she did,” Teysa growled. She took a deep breath and held it until she could trust herself to speak again. El’keth was not the target of her rage, and it would be wrong to take it out on her.

“I’m leaving,” Teysa announced, rearing back up to her full height. “Don’t follow me.” She did not wait for a reply.