Haftpa, the seven-legged spider, perched proudly in the palm of her hand.

“Hello, friend,” she whispered, and smiled.

Haftpa waved a leg.

“Is he here yet?” she said softly.

Haftpa jumped up and down in her hand.

“Is that a yes?” said Alice. “Do you know where he is?”

Again, Haftpa jumped up and down.

“Alright then,” Alice said. “I’ll pack my bags, do a quick bit of magic, and we’ll be off. You’ll stay close, won’t you?”

The peacock spider bounced around once more, only too happy to acquiesce. He’d come to adore this pale girl in the short time he’d known her, and he’d never been so excited to play an integral role in an adventure. And so it was with a happy hurry that he scurried across Alice’s arm, around her elbow, past her shoulder and up the side of her neck, and settled comfortably behind her left ear.

Now—it should be known that Alice did not want to use her magic against her parents. She was generally a very compliant child who loved her family (and her father, in particular) with an emotional overabundance uncommon in thirteen-year-olds. But Alice felt that the situation had left her with no choice. She needed to leave Ferenwood immediately, and Father would never have allowed it. Later, she said to herself, she’d happily accept a hefty punishment for her crimes—but for now she’d had to make an executive decision, and a simple twitch of her mind was enough to do the trick.

Suddenly, everything went black.

Alice’s ability to manipulate and manifest color was impressive in a myriad of ways, but her talent was perhaps most extraordinary when she used it to diminish the pigment in the world around her. Just now she’d snuffed out all the colors in her home—and in her parents’ bodies—plunging their small world into complete blackness. Her parents would know what she’d done, of course, but it was just enough of a distraction for her to grab her rucksack, run out the door, and hear the frantic voices of her mother and father shouting for her to get back here this instant, young lady!

By the time she reversed the magic, Alice would be long gone.

I feel I should explain.

The morning she’d been forced to leave Whichwood, Alice Alexis Queensmeadow (and her trusty companion, Benyamin Felankasak) had already set into motion the clinging beginnings of a contingency plan. Benyamin’s mother had tried (tried being the operative word here) to drag her son away from that morning’s emotional scene as soon as she saw what was happening—Madarjoon thought Laylee should be allowed her privacy—but Benyamin, who’d been horrified and heartbroken by all he’d heard, could not make himself leave. Ultimately, he compromised by staying just far enough away—pacing the forest outside Laylee’s home—hoping to be useful in the case that anyone should need him. It was he who’d arranged the perfect coincidence by throwing a rock at Laylee’s window and alerting Alice to her father’s presence.

Alice had rushed to the window to discover Father and Benyamin at exactly the same time; and though an inherent wisdom warned her against acknowledging her young friend aloud, she met his eyes and pressed a finger to her lips, disappearing back inside the castle as she thought quickly of what to do. In the madness and chaos that soon followed, Alice managed to sneak outside just long enough to grab Benyamin’s arm and whisper, “You can travel to Ferenwood by water. Please come find us.”

Benyamin, understanding her meaning at once, handed over his foremost sentinel, Haftpa, without a word of explanation. It was an implicit act of trust that only she and the spider would understand.

“I’ll see you soon,” Benyamin had said.

And now here she was, running through the forest, Haftpa tucked behind her ear, and Alice could only hope that she and Benyamin would find each other safely. Alice had run without thinking, knowing only that she needed to get far, far away from home, and fast—and it was only once she found herself standing in a patch of forest she hardly recognized that she finally stopped. Breathing hard, chest heaving, she leaned against a tree and said, “What now, Haftpa?”

Just then, a bird swooped down to meet her.

It was big and beautiful, with violet plumage that glittered in the sunlight. Alice had known that Haftpa could talk to other creatures, and she wondered, as the spider clicked its pincers quietly against her ear, whether he was communicating now with this bird. She didn’t have to wonder long. The bird cawed and snapped its beak in response to a silent summons and suddenly, without warning, launched upward, snatched Alice in its talons, and soared effortlessly into the sky.

Oliver Newbanks was released with no warning and fell to the ground with a resounding thump, jerking in every direction as he tried to free himself from the very strong spider silk strapped across his mouth and joints. He’d fallen flat on his stomach, his face buried in the grass, so when he felt the cold edge of a knife against his skin, he had no way of knowing whether friend or foe was upon him.

But he should have guessed.

Alice Alexis Queensmeadow cut Oliver free and helped him to his feet. Oliver was understandably shaken, and it took him a minute to find his head and figure out what was happening. It was only when he saw Benyamin standing a few feet away that he finally pieced it all together.

“Hi, Oliver.” Alice waved the pocketknife, apologizing with her eyes for all the trouble.