The prince followed the witch. He was sure that others must have seen him enter the corridor, partly obscured by a hanging curtain, but no one interfered. He guessed he looked unassuming enough, or maybe it was that confidence he was trying to project.

Freya disappeared around another corner ahead of him, and Prin slowed down a little, not wanting her to feel she was being chased.

The corridor was dark, and had the quiet air of something rarely used. It would have been a good place to put a dressing room for the performers, but he supposed there was another out of the way room for that purpose.

He came upon the door, he was pretty sure she had disappeared into. The door was guarded by a big silver lock, which conveniently she had left the key hanging out of. Not that it mattered since the door was open a crack anyway.

Prin considered going in, then wondered if he should knock first since maybe it was a bathroom or dressing room after all. But if he knocked, what would he say when she spoke to him? Should he knock quickly then go on in before she had a chance to answer?

As he was momentarily frozen with indecision, he could hear voices coming from inside.

“See? I knew nothing would happen to me tonight. Not here, surrounded by all my friends!” A woman’s voice was saying. “This is the best party I have ever been to, and it’s only about to get better.”

“Of course it is, you planned everything yourself.” A second female voice said.

The woman who must be Freya laughed. “As if you had no hand in anything! So modest.”

“I only do what you tell me to.” The second voice said. “About the oddities exhibit . . .”

“Yes! Why don’t you go and make sure the lighting is just right. I’ll bring the bug.” Freya said.

“It’s just, I’m afraid it might be dangerous. To keep this thing around.” The second woman said fretfully.

“Nonsense! The guests will love it. It’s like nothing they’ve ever seen before, I guarantee you that.” Freya said.

“People have seen them. They just don’t . . . if they manage to capture one, it’s not kept in a-in a jar. Not alive anyway. They’re unpredictable, powerful . . .” The second woman seemed to be very reluctant to be having this conversation with her boss, but perhaps saying things that had been building up for a while. Things she had to get off her chest or risk later regret.

The first woman laughed, a haughty sound. “Is that what your books told you? This is just a harmless little bug. Powerless. Otherwise why would it allow itself to be captured?”

“I don’t know . . . maybe it has its reasons.” The nervous woman said.

“This will be the crowning touch to the hall of oddities.” The first woman said. “Along with some spooky mood lighting. Maevis, you go make sure that’s ready to go and everything is set up. I’m going to have a smoke but I’ll rejoin the party shortly. I might as well make a second grand entrance, after all it’s my party!”

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

“I don’t like this. I don’t like it at all.” Maevis said. “You should get rid of it.”

“Hmm, maybe later. After the party.” The first woman said. “We can always crush you to bits once we get tired of showing you off, can’t we little bug? Go on now, Maevis, make sure everything is perfect.”

Prin had no idea what they were talking about but it didn’t sound good. In an act that he knew was strange, but felt like self preservation, he slipped into the alcove of a neighboring doorway to hide in the shadows when he heard footsteps.

Maevis, clearly sensing the futility of continuing her argument further, left the room alone and went down the hallway and back out toward the party, not once looking in Prin’s direction.

He breathed a sigh of relief, and thought about leaving himself, mission unaccomplished. But then, how could he possibly do that? He would never get the answers he sought with an attitude of defeatism. And failure was not a possibility he was willing to entertain. Also, wasn’t he at least a little bit curious about this mysterious and powerful “bug” she was keeping captive? Yes, yes he was.

Prin crept out of his shadowy hiding spot and knocked softly at the door. There was no answer, so he knocked again, a little harder this time.

“For goddess sake, who is it? A timid little mouse?” Freya demanded.

It was here where Prin knew that announcing himself would mean nothing to the fortune teller, as they didn’t know each other, and discovery that it was someone she didn’t know at the door would probably cause him to be turned away. So he made the only decision he felt he could and simply opened the door, a bland apology on the tip of his tongue.

He never had a chance to use it.

He had just a moment to take in the room, an opulent private sitting room with velvet chairs and a small round table with an arrangement of esoteric clutter, and the woman in pink, a bit older looking close up but still rosy cheeked and slim as a girl, either through natural means or artificial it was beyond Prin to know, before she let out an abrupt and high pitched shriek.

Her eyes unbelievably round and mortified. She dropped the pipe she had been smoking onto the antique rug, and pointed at him, her rings sparkling in the candlelight.

“You.” She gasped. “It’s you.”

Prin, again a slave to the unaccountable instincts to preserve one’s own well being, removed the key from the door and shut it behind himself. He figured if she screamed again it wouldn’t carry as far, or maybe at all, with the door shut. Why he took the key was anybody’s guess. And he was surprised he didn’t just take off running down the hall and away from her like a scalded animal. But here they were.

“The spider boy.” Freya said. “Just like in my vision. . .” She stood up, still pointing at him all the while, as though the tip of her fingernail had the power to freeze him in place. She took a deep breath. “You can’t kill me, not now, I’ve grown too powerful for you.”

“Please . . .” the prince said. “Please, I don’t know what – I just have questions. Are you a shapeshifter?”

He wondered if her bizarre reaction might mean she was the witch who had cursed him, and she had been waiting all along for him to catch up to her? But, it didn’t seem right for that. She seemed, afraid. And why would you be afraid of what you yourself created?

“I don’t mean you any harm.” Prin said miserably. What would she do to him? What could she do?

“Tricky spider.” Freya said.

Out of the corner of his eye Prin could see a glowing light, like a firefly but brighter and growing. It was coming from a round glass jar on the table that he had barely noticed before.

While his attention was distracted for a split second, the room began to fill with smoke, an oddly scentless smoke, and before his vision was clouded over, Freya lunged at him.

Sensing the coming impact of her body, Prin’s teeth began to ache, his mouth salivate. And his stomach spoke to him. In that wordless eerie way, it purred and laughed and gurgled. It said, it’s time, no time is a bad time if I say it’s good. It said, the meal is coming to us, how can we refuse?

The smoke had a quality to it that made his limbs feel heavy. “No.” Prin said, but he knew the word was feeble, and he was already going limp as the impact of the woman in pink slammed into him.

The room momentarily shook as though the aftermath of a small explosion and a flash of bright light burned his eyes briefly before they fluttered closed. And he felt no more.