A thrill of terror shivered up my spine as I heard the ponderous clop-clop-clop of the draft horses. It was a queer curiosity mixed with more than a little apprehension—I’d only ever heard stories; I had never once seen for myself. Curiosity triumphed over fear and I peered out the window of my family’s simple two-level home. My bedroom faced the front, offering a perfect view of the ominous scene unfolding before my eyes. A medley of squat, unadorned houses lined the road, a roughly paved affair of uneven gray cobblestones. Four enormous draft horses thundered at a steady trot, coming from the western end of the road, a broad street called Birchwood Lane. Every street in my neighborhood had a tree-related name. The draft horses were tar black, their silver-shod hooves flashing in the early morning sun. Harnessed behind them, a black carriage trimmed in silver rattled relatively smoothly down Birchwood Lane. Silver thread picked out a tangled web design on the side of the carriage; the only feature I could see of the carriage driver was a pair of white-gloved hands.
The carriage rattled to a stop in the driveway of the house directly across from mine, a squat one-level with a faded green door. A tall, elegantly dressed figure emerged from the carriage itself, a wide-brimmed hat shading the face; the figure glided across to the front door, raising a black-gloved hand to knock sharply. Three brief crashes echoed throughout the silent street. Immediately, a young blonde girl of about twelve years threw wide the faded green door. Agnes Hampden had never attempted to hide her exceptional piano-playing talent; although only twelve, she certainly already had a rebel spirit.
Although I was too young to understand at the time, the Web took Agnes away to their interior where they would break Agnes’s spirit and force her cooperation, loyalty, and obedience… or kill her. The Web had no room for an obstinate little fly like Agnes, a thoroughly uncooperative and rebellious child with such a strong will. The Web wanted only compliant servants, little baby spiders to follow the commands of the larger queen momma spider. Anything exceptional must serve to build the Web…
…or it wouldn’t be allowed to exist.
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Exceptional (On Hold)
Teen FictionPeople fear the echoing clops of the black draft horses because of what they pull behind them—a black carriage trimmed in silver. Charlotte Gray knows that it’s only a matter of time before the black carriage makes a stop at her house. The carriage...
