The cold tapping sound of the chitinous carapace signalled the spider’s arrival. Krobelous tensed as she felt the icy mists whip up and grow thicker as she stared into the scrying pool, intent on making this pact one last time. Momentarily, she swore that her reflection flickered and she saw herself with not two eyes but eight- a mass of legs writhing in the shadows and a perfect nest of silk glimmering in the moonlight. The web like strands of fog thickened even further, draping off her being and blocking out what little moonlight was left. A crackling surge of energy spat forth, cleaving the night, and flowed through the webs, deep into her body. Ancient pathways in her brain long since dormant, lit up with arachnid delight.

The Black Widow’s Curse had been cast successfully. Her brood would feast tonight...