The caravan crawled over the white stone roads. They had only gone a few miles, and it had been hours. Already there had been three attacks by Hex’s children. Rohan had been watching out the back of the cage, and he had seen a black shape hurtle itself out of the trees. The glowing mushrooms that lined the road provided only murky illumination, so the spider had looked like a piece of silky blackness that had detached itself from the greater darkness of the night.

A winding grey thread unfurled behind it like a birthday streamer. The black body landed on the shoulders of one of the villagers. He didn’t even have time to scream before it yanked him up and into the trees silently. It happened so fast that Rohan wasn’t sure it had actually occurred, let alone had a chance to call out a warning. A woman’s scream that her husband was gone removed all doubt.