The Salamander Spell by E. D. Baker Read Free Book Online Page A

“You can’t trust a web beater.”
    “She didn’t beat your web,” said Corinne. “The other one did.”
    Inez turned from Grassina to Chartreuse. “They all look alike to me.”
    “Tell me about the project,” Corinne said again.
    “Oh, right, the project.” Grassina thought fast, trying to come up with something convincing. “My mother is the queen. She’s made a wager with another queen that our spiders are finer weavers than any human in her kingdom. Of course Mother wants the best webs she can find to show the other queen—”
    “Then it’s no wonder you came here,” said Corinne. “But you were going about it all wrong. Here, I’ll show you.” The spider darted to the edge of the web and worked one of the anchoring threads free. “You can have this one. It’s one of my best efforts, if I do say so myself.”
    “Don’t do it, Corinne!” shouted Inez. “They don’t deserve it.”
    “Stop being an old stick in the web,” said Corinne, loosening a second thread. “I’ve heard about contests like this. The spiders always win if their webs are half decent. I’m giving the queen the best webs we have.” Working on one thread after another, she freed the web until it began to sag.
    Olivene had made the girls boil vinegar to wash the webs, then gave them a gray powder to mix with the vinegar, saying, “That should do the trick!” The resulting concoction had smelled so strong that Chartreuse had made Grassina lug the pail to the stable, saying that the odor gave her a headache. Grassina crinkled her nose at the smell as she held up the pail to catch Corinne’s falling web.
    “Is this going to take much longer?” Chartreuse asked, stifling a yawn. “It’s getting late, and I would like to get to bed sometime tonight.”
    “How many more do you need?” the spider asked Grassina. “Morris! Francine! Your webs should do very well. The queen will need one of Astoria’s special weaves, too. Tori, if you undo that end, I’ll get started on this one.”
    By the time the spiders had finished donating their webs for the queens’ wager, Grassina had collected more than two dozen. Chartreuse waited impatiently at the stable door while Grassina thanked the spiders.
    “That was some story you made up,” Chartreuse said as her sister joined her.
    “I know, I know, I shouldn’t have lied, but what did you expect me to tell them—give us your webs so our mother can use them in a potion? I’m sure that would have gone over well.”
    Chartreuse patted her sister on the back. “Don’t be so prickly. I thought your story was good.”
    “Maybe,” said Grassina, “but I didn’t like deceiving them that way.”
    “Don’t let it worry you. They’re just bugs.”
    “So it’s all right for a princess to lie to certain people?”
    “Certainly not, but spiders aren’t people, are they? Now, let’s finish these horrid webs. I’m sick of them already.”
    “Where should we wash them?” asked Grassina.
    “Your chamber will do. The smell will keep me awake if we do it in mine. Your room already reeks of all those plants you have drying.”
    “I’d rather have it smell like herbs than the way that kitten makes your room stink,” Grassina muttered as she shifted the weight of the heavy bucket from one hand to the other.
    Whatever the powder was that their mother had given them, it kept the webs from clumping or dissolving and made them sparkle as they sloshed around in the pail. Grassina’s burden seemed to grow heavier as she climbed the stairs, and she had to stop now and then to rest. Chartreuse finally offered to take a turn, but she did it grudgingly and complained the entire time.
    The stars were shining outside Grassina’s window when the girls reached her room. Rather than find someone to light her candles for her, Grassina borrowed a flame from a torch in the hall and lit them one by one. A draft from the window made the drying plants hanging from her ceiling rustle and carried