Melaina hummed, and she pressed a finger to her lip in concentration. Her eyes glowed, but it was faint. Zefney only noticed because of how intensely she watched the arachne.

One of the spider legs snapped forward, and Zefney dodged to the side, landing hard against the table. She gasped when her vision changed. Instead of sitting in the small hut, she stood inside the entrance of a temple. There were rows of benches in the center. A statue of Arduinna sat across the room. Incense filled her nose and her soul with nostalgia.

Zefney drew in a deep breath, but there was another smell beneath the incense. Her heart beat faster as she recognized that smell. It was metallic, familiar in an unpleasant way.

It was blood.

Zefney nocked an arrow on her bow. She crept forward, eyes darting around the Temple, and she looked at every bench as she passed them. At the front of the room, she found the puddle of blood on the floor, and a hand dangled off the back of a bench.

Gasping, Zefney rushed to the body, and she found a girl’s body laying on the bench. Her body was riddled with at least a dozen arrows, and her face was contorted in terror, eyes wide.

Zefney took in the red hair, the green eyes, and the freckled skin, and she shrieked in horror as she realized who she was looking at: Bea, one of her closest friends in the village.

A loud clap made her jump.

With her heart still hammering her chest, Zefney was looking at Melaina again. The arachne frowned at a spot on the floor. Her hands were in front of her like she had just clapped her hands together.

“Forgive me for making you live through that again,” Melaina said, voice hoarse. “Take a moment to calm yourself. Deep breaths.”

Zefney’s body shook, and she startled when she realized her hands clenched around her slip, bunching the fabric over her chest in her fists. She took deep breaths, taking in the scent of pine wood and porridge instead of blood and incense, and she calmed after a few moments.

“Bea,” Melaina said. “That was a thought that you had during this time. You knew her. You were fond of her.”

Zefney looked at the arachne. She had let her spider legs sink all the way to the floor. Despite everything, she felt relief in that.

“We were close as children,” Zefney said, nodding. “She was a devout follower of Arudinna, and she was always in the church whenever she had the time.”

“And you were blamed for her death because you were an archer, and she was full of arrows.”

Tears blurred Zefney’s vision, and she rubbed at the ache in her chest as she recalled what had happened to her again.

“What happened to you after you discovered bea’s body?” the arachne asked. “If you’re up to telling me.

Zefney sighed, and she shook her head. How tears slipped down her cheeks.

“I didn’t run for help,” she said. “I stood there in shock for a moment. Some of the villagers came in, and they saw me standing there, holding my bow and arrow. And they blamed me. They assumed I had struck Bea a dozen times, and they chased me out of the village. One of them had a bow, too, and they shot me before I got away.”

Melaina clucked her tongue, and she stood from her chair. Her spider legs righted themselves, falling into a position like they were ready to striked again. She paced the floor in front of the fireplace,and that took her out of striking distance from Zefney.

“Villagers,” the arachne spat. “No better than city folk, if you ask me. They didn’t even give you a proper trial. How ridiculous!”

Zefney could only shrug. Her chest felt empty as her mind drifted back to the memory of her lifeless friend, the angry faces of the people she had grown up around. The ache in her chest grew stronger, and she glanced toward the bed, longing to crawl back into it.

“Well, I have a plan to help you return to your village,” Melaina said, drawing Zefney’s attention back to her, “and I can give you all the peace of mind to move on with each other.”

“They will never allow you there, especially not to search through their memories.”

“Being the Witch of the Woods has its advantages. I’ll have an easy time persuading them to let me into the village and you as well.”

Zefney had no idea whether to find that comforting or not, but if the Witch was going to help her return home, then she was willing to trust her just this once. She had no other choice.

“When will you go?”

“Tomorrow morning. I have things I need to gather and make before we leave.”

Zefney’s heart had been slowing down, but now it was back to racing. That did not feel like enough time to prepare for a trip back home.