"I'm trying to understand why you're hurting him."
The creature tilts its head.
"I am not hurting him."
I glance toward Vincent, who is still bound tightly in yarn. "Really? Because this looks like torture to me."
"I am punishing him."
"For what?"
The weaver's attention shifts toward Vincent. "He is dangerous."
My jaw tightens. "How?"
"He is a criminal." The certainty in its voice bothers me more than the accusation itself. "The law refuses to touch him." Two of its legs strike the floor with a sharp crack. "He should not be counted among men." Its mandibles click together. "He is the real monster."
Vincent whimpers, and the sound cuts through me like a sharp knife.
I want to go to him. I want to tear the yarn away with my bare hands and drag him out of this nightmare, but I force myself to stay where I am. The weaver is talking, and that means I finally have something I haven’t had before.
An opportunity.
"I know you aren't acting alone."
The creature goes completely still. Every strand of yarn in the room pulls tight.
"Who are you working for?"
The clicking begins again, faster this time. "You know nothing."
"I know you've been tormenting Vincent for months."
"He deserves punishment."
"Why?"
"He is dangerous."
"How is he dangerous? Explain it to me." I take a careful step forward, keeping my voice calm despite the way my heart is pounding.
The weaver's eyes flash. For several seconds, it doesn't answer.
I can feel the dream trembling beneath my feet. Tiny fractures are beginning to appear in the remaining walls, as though the entire thing is struggling to hold itself together.
"Someone told you something about him," I continue. "Something that made you believe he deserved this."
The weaver's mandibles twitch. "You do not understand."
"Then help me understand."
Its attention shifts toward Vincent. The yarn around his body tightens, making him cry out.
"Stop!"
The weaver doesn't even look at him.
"Who told you to punish him?" I ask again, maintaining a calm, placating tone.