Heroes with Wands

Chapter 44

Annabeth

Arachne. The mother of my biggest fear. She knew that, too. But I wouldn't let that show. "You're Arachne!" I said, louder. "The weaver who was turned into a spider."

"Cursed by your mother," she said. She knew I was a daughter of Athena, and it was kind of offending she didn't assume I already knew that. "Scorned by all who knew me. I was the better weaver, turned into a horrible monster."

"But you lost."

"That's the story every winner writes!" she cried. "Look at my work. Tell me that is not worthy of a win!"

The tapestries were amazing. I didn't have to look to know they were better than Circe's, better than anything I'd seen on Olympus. I wondered if my mother did really lose-and she rewrote the story and turned Arachne into a monster.

"I don't care if you've been guarding this for eternity," I snarled, "I'm taking this statue back."

"Ha." Arachne cackled, and I had to admit, my threat did sound pretty lame. How could a sixteen-year-old girl in a bubble-wrap cast take back a fourth-foot statue against a huge mama spider?

"I'm afraid, my sweet, to do that, you must defeat me. Alas, that is impossible." As Arachne finally lowered herself into my view, I knew it; I was hopeless.

She had the body of a giant black widow, with an abdomen of oozing spinnerets. Her legs were lined with barbs as big as my dagger. But the most horrible part was her face.

She was probably once beautiful. But now, black mandibles came from her mouth. Her other teeth grew into needles. Dark whiskers dotted her cheeks. Her eyes were large, black, and cold. Two smaller eyes were sticking out of her temples.

Arachne made a sound that might've been laughter. "Now I will feast on you, my sweet." Her voice was sickening. The sweet stench was enough to make me faint. "But do not fret; a tapestry in honor of your death will be made."

I tried to think: fight, trickery, talk, delay. How could I use those in this situation?

I couldn't fight. Combat wasn't the answer in this case-whether it was her legs that could kill me with a single strike, her beady black eyes, or just my arachnophobia in general, I couldn't bring myself to even raise my knife.

Trickery and brains. What did I know about this spider lady? Her pride had gotten her into this wretched situation to begin with. I knew about pride. It was my fatal flaw, too. I had to remind myself I wasn't always the best person for the job. I got distracted and forgot what other people needed.

How could I use it against her? I couldn't tell Hedge. I couldn't. This was my time, whether I liked it or not.

Trickery, talk, delay. I couldn't use them one at a time; she'd see right through my tactics. But together... they might all work.

I limped over to the nearest tapestry-of Ancient Rome. "Marvelous," I mused. "Tell me about this."

Her lips curved. "Why do you care? You're about to die."

"Well yes," I managed, "But the way you captured the light is amazing. I mean, I've seen tapestries similar before, but wow. The colors are so realistic! Did you use real golden thread for the sunbeams?"

The tapestry really was amazing. I didn't need to pretend to be impressed.

Arachne smiled smugly. "No, child, not gold. I merely blended the colors, contrasting light and dark. That's what makes it look three-dimensional."

"Beautiful." My mind split into two: one half constructing a scheme to save my butt. The other was carrying on the conversation. "Did you see this scene yourself?"