The spider hissed, “Shall I tell you what I
spied a mere fifty miles south of here? Who I
saw, Blackbeak?” Manon stiffened.
“Crochans,” the spider said, then sighed
deeply. Hungrily.
Manon blinked. Just once. The Thirteen
had gone equally still. Asterin asked, “You’ve
seen the Crochans?”
The spider’s massive head bobbed in a nod
before she sighed again. “The Crochans
always tasted of what I imagine summer wine
to be like. What chocolate, as you call it,
would taste like.”
“Where,” Manon demanded.
The spider named the location—vague and
unfamiliar. “I will show you where,” she said.
“I will guide you.”
“It could be a trap,” Sorrel said.
“It’s not,” Dorian said, his hand still on the
hilt of his sword. Manon studied the clarity of
lily
(lily)
#1