Claire hadn’t said. Most names in Arden usually reflected the guild, but Claire didn’t know the first thing about Spinning! Panic darted through her, startling away any words that could have helped. “It’s … I’m with—”

But she was spared having to answer as Lyric gasped and clapped her hand over her mouth. “Oh, Elaina,” Lyric said, “I think your thoughts have been Gathered.”

Claire blinked. “I— What?”

“It’s what Spydens do.” Lyric’s hands fluttered in concern. “They can pull out memories so they have them for themselves. But not to worry!” she added hastily. “Your memories will grow back in time. Or, at least, they should.”

Nausea swept through Claire. “But I thought they gave answers?”

“They do that, too,” Lyric confirmed as she took a bit of gauze off Claire and began to wrap it neatly around her hand in a figure eight. “Back when magic was still strong and the Guild War was just beginning, the Gemmers crafted all these terrible stone wyverns and the Tillers and Forgers teamed up together to craft the very first chimera. Spinners wanted their own war creatures. Some of them became convinced that the only way they could protect themselves was to integrate their skills with those of true spiders. But they made a huge mistake.”

Lyric cheerfully dropped the wet web onto the beach. And after selecting another scrap, she began to collect again. “Instead of their humanity controlling their arachnidity,” she continued, “it was the other way around. The creatures grew as large as men and women, and human knowledge helped them do spidery things even better. The beasts figured out how to knit themselves a human skin in which to hide.”

Spyden silk all collected, Lyric sat back on her heels and stared at Claire. “Patches, none of this is familiar to you, is it?” She tilted her head and frowned. “We should get you to Needle Pointe.”

Claire froze. The absolute last thing she wanted to do was go to Needle Pointe, especially now if all the Spinners were Royalists. Someone there was sure to recognize her and alert the queen. “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she said quickly. “It’s too dark to see a path. We might fall. Besides, what about the wraiths?”

“They won’t bother us—not here, anyway,” Lyric said. “Historian Fray said that the queen has already ensured the wraiths will leave Needle Pointe alone forever! And don’t worry about light—I got this.” Lyric reached into her cloak pocket and produced a ball of yarn. “My B.P.S.: Ball of Positioning String,” Lyric said proudly, and began to fiddle with it. In the dark, Claire couldn’t exactly see what Lyric was doing, but Claire thought that maybe she was tying the yarn to her finger in a complicated knot.