“That’s my story,” Sunny concluded. She let out a long breath, not wanting to look up at the spider or at her friends who now knew something about her that even her mother didn’t know. “You may have heard it before, or not. But this version is mine.”

When she heard nothing for several moments, she looked up. Udide seemed to be staring at her, her fuzzy black mandibles working in and out and her many hairs rippled. She felt a hand touch her shoulder and then squeeze, but she didn’t look back to see whose it was.

When Udide finally spoke, her voice was deep and booming but less harsh. “Yours is part of a long story of humanity,” she said. “Always a treat to my sensitive hairs.” She blew out the burned house smell and stood up and turned around. “Home, one’s house, dwellings doused. In flames, sad games, you’ll all be ashamed. It’ll be the greatest story ever told and only those like me will see it unfold.”

Sunny ventured a look at Orlu, Chichi, and Sasha. It was Sasha’s hand that was on her shoulder.

“Sorry,” she said to him.

“For what?”

“That word.”

He shrugged. “If I’d been in your shoes, I’d have said a lot worse.”

“Step back,” Udide said. She’d moved to the far side of the cave. “To weave one, I’ll need space.”

“The flying grasscutter?” Sunny asked.

“Step back,” Udide repeated.

She held up a leg and pulled webbing to the tip of this leg with another leg. Then she moved both legs away, and the piece of webbing hovered softly in the air. She brought another thread of webbing to that one and then something stranger began to happen. All of the hairs on her body rippled in such a fluid motion that it looked as if she were encased in water. Sunny shuddered and again felt her bladder contract. She could even smell a hint of salt water over the smell of burning houses. Another smell accompanied these two conflicting smells of fire and water. She could not describe it but she knew its origin. The strange smell and the presence of water—Udide was calling on the wilderness.

“Three of you, move away, unless you want to abandon your bodies and cross over,” Udide said. Her voice rumbled and vibrated; rocks fell from the cave’s ceiling this time. “Sunny-Anyanwu, you may stay or move with your friends.”

Sunny stayed. She wanted to see this. She could feel it rising around her now. It was like standing on the rising surf of a large beach. It was rising all around her, gradually. Sunny blinked as her perspective doubled with Anyanwu’s, but her attention was on Udide and what she was weaving. Udide was still black and hairy, but she was also turning red and growing larger. And Sunny could see another version of Udide juxtaposed with the other two; this version of her looked as if she were made of shiny metal.