Most people who entered the office I was taken to would be intimidated. They’d see the dark wood, the lacquered paint, the sheer size of the desk and the high-backed chair behind it—spun facing away—and they’d assume wealth. If the thick smell of incense and the smoky haze in the air didn’t knock them out first. Even I was getting lightheaded.

Father’s office would put this to shame—our servants would hide laughter behind a tight smile and wary eyes.

Because here, in this den of ersatz luxury and counterfeit wealth, was someone who clung to their facade for dear life. Desperation birthed unpredictability, paranoia, and danger.

The door closed behind me with a dull thud, and I could hear the goons take up positions outside as the chair spun slowly around.

Sitting on it was a woman with long red hair, piercing blue eyes, and coy smirk. She was dressed provocatively, her dress one crossed seam or popped button away from total disaster, and her eyes raked over me.

“Not bad,” she purred, then sniffed the air. “Woodsmoke… and something darker. Tell me, pet, do you already have a master?”

Slate would push back, demand answers, vie for control. As Silk, however, I decided to feign confusion. “Ma’am… I appreciate you meeting with me, but I’m really just here for the evening.”

One eyebrow rose, thin and orderly. “Are you now? Come here.” She crooked a finger.

Vitae brushed against my skin; a breeze blew through my Garden. One foot moved forward before my thoughts seemed to ground themselves.

“The fun doesn’t need to stop, dear.”

I stopped, looked at her over the desk, and caught her eyes. For just a moment, the pupils in them were wrong—as if I needed more evidence toward what she was. Those eyes widened as I stared, just for a moment.

The vitae in the room densified, and she pulled out a pipe with one slender hand, relaxing into her chair. “A girl traveling all alone. You’ve got a strong will, Weaver. We could use someone like you.”

“For what?” I asked bluntly. Gather information.

“Business. Pleasure. Both.” She took a drag on the pipe and blew out a perfect ring.

“Ma’am, if you don’t mind me saying, I’m not sure what you’re getting at.”

She sighed. “Stop playing dumb, girl, I can see what you’re wearing.”

“There’s a difference between service and being served—and besides, you know my name.”

“Oh, so you made that yourself?” Her eyes roved over me again, lingering. “Delicious. Do you mind if I have a closer look? The fabric looks exotic.” Another pulse of vitae, and this time, a faint scent with it.

Wet fur.

“I do mind, actually. Thank you for your offer”—I bowed—“but I do believe I ought to enjoy my evening and retire early.”

Something flashed across her face, but I rose too late to catch it before she returned to her smirk, teeth playing with the end of the pipe. “You don’t even want a recommendation? Men, women, I’ve got all stock.”

This was a chance. “I’ll see who’s interested.”

The woman laughed. “Oh, that’s no problem at all.”

“If I have trouble, I will ask one of your attendants, Miss…”

“Rosa, dear.” Her eyes flashed. “But I simply must know more of your craft. A sample perhaps, or a touch?” She slid from behind her desk and crossed the room with fluid grace.

Fog rolled into my garden, thick enough to distract as she reached a delicate hand out, slipping two fingers down the neckline of my dress.

Fog, mist. Plants that thrive in mist.

Gnarled stems thick with narrow spines rose out of the pond’s edges, unfurling spiked leaves that precipitated dew. Foreign vitae dripped from the air into the pond, and my head cleared enough to duck away from her touch just as she reached the top of my breast.

“It’s s-silk, ma’am. F-from the southeast.” My voice wavered, and I couldn’t tell if I was acting.

A hand with a grip like iron and nails like knives gripped my shoulder before I could turn to leave. I met her gaze with mine, that same musty smell filtering through the incense.

“Ma’am—”

“This is my territory,” Rosa hissed, her voice lilting uncannily as her nails tore into my guise.

I straightened my spine, instinct telling me to posture, unsure if this was prey or danger. “For how long? This place sticks out like a bonfire in a meadow.”

“And yet the spider walks right in.” Her hand gripped tighter. “Do you mean to tell me ‘Weaver’ is not equally perspicuous?”

“Anyone could guess Rosa was an alias, or did you presume me to give my true name?” I placed my hand on hers, still meeting her gaze. “Do you wish to talk, or to make a mess of your garish den?”

“Swear to me that you will not interfere, else I might consider making a meal of a spider.” Her grip seemed to max out, instilling just a bit of confidence that I had her outmatched.

Gambling hard and relying on instincts to keep my nerves in check, I laughed once in her face, then took a semi-educated shot in the dark. “And if I fail to make my destination, this den of debauchery will be the first place turned over. Do you think you will hide? I’m not here for your prey, follower of Glamour.”

A sneer crossed her mien as she called my bluff, voice dripping with disgust. “Do not accuse me of stooping to your weak ideals!” Without warning, she shoved me back, sending me crashing against the door hard enough to crack it. “I have more than enough strength to subdue the fools here, and any that might follow a spider so ill-learned as to fail even the most basic of guises. When I am finished playing here, I will move on.”

I coughed and stood on shaky legs. “And what… of the people here, Rosa? What of their lives?”

She paused, seemingly caught off-guard with her hand raised as though to rake me. “I do not share my territory.”

“The humans.” I drew from my pond, filling my limbs with vitae even as my spider legs threatened to burst from my back. For all that I didn’t want to fight… strong prey! So much vitae!

Rosa cackled. “Easily deceived and hardly more than a snack. To think the delicious meal I’d spied was something even more. I like a little fight in my food, spider.”

Damn, Ash was right.

Her form blurred, two tails appearing behind her as pointed ears popped out of her hair. Smirking lips pushed forward into a half muzzle lined with sharp, snaggled teeth, and wild gold eyes bored into me as she punched, claws extended.

I rolled to one side—right into a flash of claws. What I thought was Rosa hit the door and exploded in a shower of glittering light. Only to reform into three more copies as something unseen circled the space.

Vitae spilled into my wounds to close them as my legs tore free and six more eyes opened across my forehead, taking in the whole room.

Without training, I’d have floundered. Without a lifetime of Mother and Father’s lessons and the wisdom of a Sect’s teachings, I would have walked right into the attack that cut around me with deadly precision: a flutter of razor-sharp vitae, shaped like blue rose petals. 

Instead, I drew a calm breath, focused on the surface of my Garden’s pond, the gentle wind through the brush, and the ghostly tree that stood sentinel over my being.

Pull in my right legs, bend my knees and duck backward. Slide, pivot, hips into the stance turn my shoulders into a perfect form.

“I won’t miss again if you stand still!” Rosa taunted, standing somewhere in the flurry of torn wallpaper, splinters, and pages from risque novels.

A snide remark at a formal gathering, a belligerent at a town meeting… an upstart noble with more ambition than sense.

That resonated. When I moved, my form was what I’d trained for, silent and lithe, precise motion that wasted no vitae. Precisely the sort of technique I’d trained to look effortless—and I knew without finding her true form that it had Rosa fooled.

The three copies stood apart, and I threw a thread between them, not across the ground, but near the ceiling. Already, I could feel its vibration through the air current. Connection to one leg mapping out a portion of the room—and its moving occupants—in my mind. Her illusions were solid. Real enough to hurt.

“What was your plan?” I hissed. Venom spilled from my fangs, running down the front of my dress into where I’d hidden needles.

“Why would I bother telling you?” an illusion answered, feinting as I flipped backward and threw another thread.

“I just can’t see it working out. This place is a beacon—and you tried to pull me in without knowing what I was.” Another thread, another feint… and this time I earned a cut across one cheek from an invisible claw I couldn’t dodge. “One Third Ring cultivator that comes through here—or anyone with common sense—and you’re dead.”

“But I’m not, am I?” Now her voice cackled from all around me, bouncing around the office. 

Rosa wasn’t moving—she’d seen the threads. Debris fluttered around us in a moment of silence.

“Boss?” came a voice from outside. “Should we—”

“Silence!” At Rosa’s command the goon’s voice cut off. “No one leaves without my permission, spider. No one!”

The illusions moved as one—I couldn’t read the air currents. But I could see something cut through the debris faster than I could blink. I pulled my legs down as one and threw two needles from my dress’s hem.

Two illusions shattered, the third stabbed into my side… and four legs paid the price as Rosa’s strike landed.

Broken, oozing—the pain made my head swim no more than Mother’s training had. All the times I’d lain bloody on the earth… I thought of clouds and a warm meal after. Bruises heal, broken limbs mend, and my body is more than capable of fighting on.

Motion! A figure to my side spun, throwing up an arm to conjure more illusions, and only then realized what I’d done. The wire-frame outline of a fox-tailed demon stood before me, bits of wallpaper and splinters sticking to her like a macabre mannequin.

Mother would have laid me on my back for the moment I spent… Gloating? Surprised? Both, and Rosa must have felt it too. Hand flat, I moved in and jabbed; she blocked. Spinning, using my good legs as a counterweight, I went for a kick.

She grabbed the limb, claws digging in, and threw me. But the silk stopped her motion, and I swung around, catching her face with my knuckles.

Rosa reeled, giving me a chance to draw the needles I’d dripped my venom onto. With a hiss, she tore at the silk and threw out more illusions—each replicated her appearance. But only one still had threads connected to me.

When I pulled, the real Rosa stumbled. Casting my arm out, I threw a half dozen needles into her side, from shoulder to hip. Sweeping down, my human legs took her feet out from under her, and she fell back on her web-stuck tails.

“What… did…” Her illusions stuttered, then jumped forward. Too late.

“Venom.” I stabbed down—and Rosa shattered.

Pain exploded from behind me as something white-hot drove itself inside and orange bloomed around me. Fire!

How!?

“How does it feel, spider?” Her voice came from all sides, through the flames sweeping up the walls and burning the fuel-soaked air. “To be caught in a web?”

Flames crawled up my legs, cracking chitin as I tried to use them to stand. Below the waist, I felt nothing.

What? How? I had her, and then…

I can’t feel my legs. My human legs. My garden shook, the pond sloshed, draining vitae as my body tried to repair a horrific injury while flames encroached on my Garden’s fence.

Breathe. Calm. I have my arms; I have vitae. This isn’t over, but the flames… heat…

“I suppose I should thank you,” Rosa continued with a mocking lilt. Where she was, I couldn’t tell—flames had cleansed all I’d accomplished. “You’ll be a delicious bit of power. Third Summit has a nice ring to it. And you know what?” Her voice dropped to a whisper, right next to my ear as unseen claws tilted my head back, exposing my neck. “I might even take your advice. If something like you can survive wandering this sordid land…”

She paused for effect and a wicked-looking dagger shimmered into existence under my chin.

Up above, the flames reached the roof, teasing the edges… of my silk. Something was wrong; I struggled to hold that thought in my mind, focus on why I was so certain… It’s not burning like it should.

The blade pressed in. I forced my heat-ruined legs to move and they did. Head to the side, arms in, I spun up. My heel crunched Rosa’s jaw with a crack as the flames shimmered and died.

In the ruined office, there were no more illusions. Rosa fell to her knees, fully visible, hands on her neck as she choked, blood spewing out with her severed tongue.

“Waaiiht!” she choked out. “Shaaeh? Paahtneehs?”

“Why?” From my hands, I threw thick strands of silk that stuck and bound her.

She coughed more blood and I watched her tongue slowly regenerating. “W-we can work together. You can see what I’ve got here. Servants, food, money.”

“Food?” Fangs clicked as they extended, and I couldn’t help the hissing drops of venom that hit the ruined floor.

Rosa nodded. “Travelers, locals with enough vitae. It’s got to be better than what you’ve had wandering backroads. A-and with both of us, we can take on bigger prey. Keep this place safe, split any cultivator that comes here. You’re Glamour—I’ll run the show up front and you can sit behind the scenes. No one’s gotta know.”

I glared at her. All I could see was Gale’s body, all I could hear were that damned demon’s words. “You’re a monster.”

Rosa’s eyes went wide, manic. A stuttering laugh escaped her, then another. “Y-you! What are you, then? What are they? People love it here. Pleasure! An escape! And they don’t even know it when some get taken. They don’t care!

“You were one of them, weren’t you? They’ll hunt you down. They hunt all of us down! All I wanted were a few good years, is that so wrong?” Her eyes flicked side to side, searching for a way out. “I-I get the drunkards, the crooked merchants, the rapists. I’m on your side!

“Y-you’re stronger. I submit! You win!” Her smile stretched wide and crazed, revealing predator-like teeth, even as her red-furred ears were low, shaking. 

For all my conviction, I stumbled.

If we just took out the worst people… I was doing that already, wasn’t I? Something I shouldn’t ever do. It wasn’t hard to look at my hands at the same time I kept eyes on the laughing fox demon.

They were pale, uncannily slender, tipped with black nails and stained with blood. One clenched into a fist as I tried to resolve myself. Hard choices—I’d been training my whole life to make them.

I wasn’t a paragon of virtue—I’d kill again. I’d eat more humans in the future. But there was one key difference, something Father had told me years ago:

It is unavoidable that we knowingly make decisions that cause suffering. You must learn to shoulder that burden, son, or it will drag you to an early grave.

That was the difference.

Rosa was still laughing as I exposed her neck. Still heaving with mirth as my fangs sunk into her, draining her vitae to nothing. Her body gray and crumbling, fell backwards, wide-eyed and wearing a taunting smile.

The dust in the room settled as I stared down at her.

Somewhere in the background, the broken door creaked open, then thudded shut, and I felt a familiar hand on my shoulder.

“Don’t think about it, kid. Doesn’t matter why someone’s got where they are. Just matters where they’re gonna go.”