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Authors: Shayne Leighton
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the ride. But I’ll be going back to my house now.” Charlotte glowered.
He chuckled down at her. “Not a problem, Charlotte. You did well. I thought you might’ve passed out.” He adjusted his goggles again.
Her mouth fell open. “You know my name?”
“Once you told me that you belonged to Valek, I knew exactly who you were.” He smiled, his wiry, frosted mustache bristling. “I’ve heard so much about you over the years. It is a pleasure to actually meet a human girl!” He extended a human hand toward his borough. “You’re welcome to come in for some tea. I make it myself!” he said proudly, his thumbs resting in his vest.
Charlotte looked again at the dark hole in the forest floor, squinting at it, and then back at the face of the Phaser. She turned once, glancing back at her house, and decided Valek probably wasn’t missing her right now, anyway. Why should she be in such a hurry to return to him? “Sure.” She smiled politely. “Thanks again, Mr.—”
“Třínožka,” he informed her, and grabbed her by the hand as they disappeared down the dark tunnel.
Her eyes didn’t adjust well to the blackness of the dirt-packed entrance. Her free hand felt around at the walls so she could guide herself more easily, even though Mr. Třínožka was doing most of the guiding for her. Her fingertips trailed across the winding tree roots and rocks hiding in the topsoil, until finally her eyes were met with a faint, warm light behind a set of patterned curtains.
When the spider pushed through, Charlotte emerged into a rather large burrow he had dug for his home under the forest. Multiples of trinkets, oddities, and collectables lined the walls, stacked next to crude, pillowy sacks that she guessed the spider used for couches.
Another Phaser was playing music from one corner of the burrow. A caterpillar type just as large as Mr. Třínožka, sat folded over a small bench before an old, upright piano. He did not seem to notice the pair had entered behind him as he continued to play.
“That sounds beautiful,” Charlotte said softly.
“That’s just Horris. He’s completely deaf.” Mr. Třínožka began removing his scarf and his knit gloves with the fingers cut out. He laid them on one of the couches.
“He’s deaf?” Charlotte blanched. “How can he play?”
“Charlotte, trust me, it is not a hindrance.” The spider leaned in close to her. “You do not need your ears in order to hear that which you wish to create.” He winked before scurrying off to a different part of the burrow. He called out to her, “Please, have a seat! I am expecting other company and tea will be on shortly!”
Charlotte did as he said, finding one of the large, fluffy sacks and plopping in the center of it. She struggled to keep herself upright, though the softness of it swallowed her, her knees folding up to her stomach.
“I really like your home!” she said so that he could hear her from the other room.
“Thank you.” The Phaser reappeared with a bronze teakettle in one hand and two ceramic jugs in the others. “Earl Grey or chamomile?”
“Earl Grey, please.” She smiled, continuing to try and find her balance in the chair.
His mustache bristled again as he disappeared once more.
“Where do you find all of these things?” Charlotte asked, her eyes scanning the various pieces. There were clock gears, and only halves of sets of human pairs of shoes. There were dented pots and pans, many books, cuckoo clocks, lamps, hunks of un-polished scrap metal, stuffed animals, sculptures, photographs, silverware, snow globes, and about a million other things that decorated the spider’s home.
“I’m a junk collector. I collect junk.” Mr. Třínožka reappeared again with four cups of tea in each of his hands. “Like Horris.”
Charlotte laughed.
He gave one cup to Charlotte, set one down on a small, crooked coffee table, and placed one on the piano in front of Horris before sitting down in one of the
He chuckled down at her. “Not a problem, Charlotte. You did well. I thought you might’ve passed out.” He adjusted his goggles again.
Her mouth fell open. “You know my name?”
“Once you told me that you belonged to Valek, I knew exactly who you were.” He smiled, his wiry, frosted mustache bristling. “I’ve heard so much about you over the years. It is a pleasure to actually meet a human girl!” He extended a human hand toward his borough. “You’re welcome to come in for some tea. I make it myself!” he said proudly, his thumbs resting in his vest.
Charlotte looked again at the dark hole in the forest floor, squinting at it, and then back at the face of the Phaser. She turned once, glancing back at her house, and decided Valek probably wasn’t missing her right now, anyway. Why should she be in such a hurry to return to him? “Sure.” She smiled politely. “Thanks again, Mr.—”
“Třínožka,” he informed her, and grabbed her by the hand as they disappeared down the dark tunnel.
Her eyes didn’t adjust well to the blackness of the dirt-packed entrance. Her free hand felt around at the walls so she could guide herself more easily, even though Mr. Třínožka was doing most of the guiding for her. Her fingertips trailed across the winding tree roots and rocks hiding in the topsoil, until finally her eyes were met with a faint, warm light behind a set of patterned curtains.
When the spider pushed through, Charlotte emerged into a rather large burrow he had dug for his home under the forest. Multiples of trinkets, oddities, and collectables lined the walls, stacked next to crude, pillowy sacks that she guessed the spider used for couches.
Another Phaser was playing music from one corner of the burrow. A caterpillar type just as large as Mr. Třínožka, sat folded over a small bench before an old, upright piano. He did not seem to notice the pair had entered behind him as he continued to play.
“That sounds beautiful,” Charlotte said softly.
“That’s just Horris. He’s completely deaf.” Mr. Třínožka began removing his scarf and his knit gloves with the fingers cut out. He laid them on one of the couches.
“He’s deaf?” Charlotte blanched. “How can he play?”
“Charlotte, trust me, it is not a hindrance.” The spider leaned in close to her. “You do not need your ears in order to hear that which you wish to create.” He winked before scurrying off to a different part of the burrow. He called out to her, “Please, have a seat! I am expecting other company and tea will be on shortly!”
Charlotte did as he said, finding one of the large, fluffy sacks and plopping in the center of it. She struggled to keep herself upright, though the softness of it swallowed her, her knees folding up to her stomach.
“I really like your home!” she said so that he could hear her from the other room.
“Thank you.” The Phaser reappeared with a bronze teakettle in one hand and two ceramic jugs in the others. “Earl Grey or chamomile?”
“Earl Grey, please.” She smiled, continuing to try and find her balance in the chair.
His mustache bristled again as he disappeared once more.
“Where do you find all of these things?” Charlotte asked, her eyes scanning the various pieces. There were clock gears, and only halves of sets of human pairs of shoes. There were dented pots and pans, many books, cuckoo clocks, lamps, hunks of un-polished scrap metal, stuffed animals, sculptures, photographs, silverware, snow globes, and about a million other things that decorated the spider’s home.
“I’m a junk collector. I collect junk.” Mr. Třínožka reappeared again with four cups of tea in each of his hands. “Like Horris.”
Charlotte laughed.
He gave one cup to Charlotte, set one down on a small, crooked coffee table, and placed one on the piano in front of Horris before sitting down in one of the
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