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Vaelin sat down against a tree as his husband flew away to look for the source of the strange noise. He didn't much care what it was, as long as it didn't interrupt the nap he intended to take. His legs were quite tired after his journey, not to mention all the excitement from the night before. The soft grass and moss at the tree's base provided a comfortable rest for his back, and he reclined with a contented sigh.

It was always so peaceful here in the orchard. Vaelin felt the sun on his fur, the slight chill in the air, and the faint creaking of the tree's trunk as it swayed in the breeze. The cold wasn't a problem; northern deer were much more resilient than their southern cousins. They were built thick and stocky to survive the winter months. He let out a quiet little yawn and closed his eyes. Then, moments later, he opened them again.

Something was nagging at him and he couldn't quite put his hoof on it. The buck rolled over to look at the tree's painted trunk. What made Apricot's way so much more effective than his? Why was a layer of paint and some culinary ingredients more potent than a druid's blessing?

Maybe it wouldn't hurt to take a look. Vaelin reached down to put his hoof on one of the tree's roots. Everything felt fine as far as he could tell. It was a happy tree, fed and watered well with nary a pest to bother it. Apricot was a skilled farmer indeed. In another life he might have been a druid himself.

The buck decided to look in a different direction. He broadened his mind, searching for the spirits of the orchard's smallest residents: the insects, the spiders, snails and slugs of all shapes and sizes. He even listened for the rats and mice. Why were they so content to leave the fruits of his husband's labors alone?

Normally the feedback from such primitive creatures was faint and fuzzy. Insects had very few thoughts that sapient creatures could understand, and such a large group of them rarely all felt the same way about any one thing. He expected a broad, jumbled range of feelings and sensations that might help him pin down the reason that all the orchard's bugs were staying away from the trees. What he got instead was unlike anything he'd ever felt before.

Something terrible had come to Apricot's home. Every animal was frightened of it. Those that could leave were long gone, with only the smallest and weakest left behind. The insects that remained were quite content to stay hidden in burrows and anthills, starving to death rather than risking a hunt for food. No natural predator could cause this kind of fear in such simple creatures.

Vaelin was badly shaken. He broke the connection as quick as he could and sat still for several minutes, mind racing as he tried to figure out what in Equestria was going on. Soon he stumbled to his hooves and made for the farmhouse. He had a lot of research to do, and probably very little time to do it.

Despite being an avid reader, many of the books filling Apricot's home didn't belong to him. Vaelin had entire bookshelves full of heavy tomes and academic texts written by members of his druidic order. Every creature under Celestia's sun was documented somewhere in the thin pages and dusty scrolls that he'd accumulated.

It was time to crack open one of the darker and more foreboding tomes. Some of these books were dangerous, and those he kept under lock and key at all times. While the natural world was his specialty, a druid had to be ready to contend with the supernatural as well. Vaelin flipped through pages describing monsters and demons that most ponies would thankfully never come across.

It took a while to put together the pieces, but there were a few clues that he had to work with. The farm's insects were terrified out of their tiny minds. The plant life, however, was completely unaffected. The buck had a very strong link with the natural spirits in the area, and he hadn't sensed anything amiss until he'd gone looking for it. Strangest of all, the orchard's spiders were nowhere to be found. They weren't just hiding; they had vanished entirely.

The official texts didn't give him what he needed. Vaelin soon turned to historical accounts in desperation, and there he found a story that fit the bill. A small farming community had disappeared nearly a hundred years prior. Only one written account survived, preserved in a metal strongbox after a terrible forest fire burned the area to the ground.

October 1st, the 825th year of Celestia's rule

Papa says I must make account of my days in a journal to practice my script. We've had a terrible time with insects this year. Our crops are being eaten in the fields before we can harvest them. Sister is freshly wed and away from the homestead. I have taken up her chores and duties in addition to my own. We are tired all of us, but the food is lacking. I am in this year twelve, to be thirteen in December. My Papa is much older but will also have his birthday in the same month. I have only one sibling, my Sister, and I miss her very much.

October 4th, the 825th year of Celestia's rule

A herd of the savage folk passed close to our town last month. Barbaric ponies they are, leaving the sick and old behind to die. A zebress passed by fully two days ago and still I shiver to remember her. She was an ugly mare, mangy and twitchy like a barn cat. Around her neck was a necklace of brown string on which hung a dozen trinkets I could not fathom. I could have counted her ribs but for the stripped coat vexing my eyes. Papa threatened her as she had stolen from the garden. I thought sure she would run, but her eyes were keen indeed to see our plight. She promised an end to the pests in exchange for some small morsel of food and shelter for the night. He chased her all the way to the main gate and beat her. The mare stayed there for hours. I feared she was dead and thought to bring her something, but I would not risk Papa's anger. She left us finally, but first plucked a wooden spoon from her necklace. I found it broken in the road the next morning.

October 20th, the 825th year of Celestia's rule

Never again will I doubt the strange and crude magics of a zebra. They must be a very forgiving sort. The old mare is long gone but we have not seen any vermin since her passing. The neighbors report a similar turn of fortune. Our harvest is saved and we ate a full meal to celebrate.

October 28th, the 825th year of Celestia's rule

Something is wrong. Mother went to visit the neighbors for the evening and has not returned. Papa will say nothing of it. I asked him if I might go and look, but he forbade it sternly. I have also been having night terrors. The zebress visits me in my sleep and speaks terrible things to me. Papa says that he will go to the neighbors if Mother does not return tonight.

October 29th, the 825th year of Celestia's rule

Papa left today and returned in the evening. He has not spoken. Baxter has gone, and did not return even when I called him for his dinner. He is a big dog. I thought surely no beast in our woods would trouble him and yet he is missing. Now it is dark. I am afraid to sleep. Will Papa go next and leave me alone?

November 11th, the 825th year of Celestia's rule

Papa has kept me inside for a long time. We are eating little and the zebress still haunts me. I am shushed when I speak of her and scolded when I look out the windows. I think that Baxter is still out there. Last night I heard a shuffling near the door and wished to open it, but Papa pulled me away.

November 12th, the 825th year of Celestia's rule

There is a terrible noise outside like angry cicadas. It is constant and loud. Papa left me here this morning to search for the zebress. He believes that she can save us. I was forbidden to leave the house but there is nothing to eat here and I am so hungry.

December 20th, the 825th year of Celestia's rule

I have killed us all.

I leave this as record and testament of what happened to my family. My daughter and wife are gone. They are taken by that thing and devoured. Even old Baxter was claimed by it. I begged every striped savage that I could find for help, but they'll have none of it. They say that the zebress was some kind of devil or evil spirit. The unicorns in town are completely useless. Their spells sputter and die with nary a spark shed. I suspect that only zebra magic can save us but none will come within miles of the farm.

It is out there now, pacing in the woods. I can hear the endless drone of it. Tonight it will come for me, but I will offer it no satisfaction. With a strong rope and this chair I shall take control of my life once more.

Forgive me. I cannot bear to let it inside. I must be dead when it comes.

Vaelin tossed the scroll aside, frustrated beyond belief. He felt like he was right back where he'd started, even if there was a glimmer of hope in the story. Was the doomed farmer right about zebra magic being the answer, or had he just been grasping at straws in his desperation? Maybe it was possible to rig up a zebra protection spell using the limited resources at hoof. It was a long shot and he was no shaman, but there was nothing else to go on.

The deer leaped out of the chair with a yelp as something sharp sank into his ankle. He was shaking from the tips of his antlers all the way down to his cloven hooves. Apricot's cat mewled at him from beneath the desk, glowering as though he owed it an apology for something. "What the hell was that for?" Vaelin asked.

Henry, naturally, lacked the good manners to answer. The cat just glared up at him, watching as he began to stumble and slur his words. His leg went numb, followed by the rest of his body. Vaelin made it as far as the door before collapsing. With his last thought he formed a protective rune in his mind and mumbled a word in an ancient language. He could only pray that the spell would protect him, or he'd be dead before Apricot got home.

__________

The basement of the farmhouse was much less cozy than the rest of it. It was cold and unpleasant during the winter months, but stayed very dry. That made it a perfect place to store family heirlooms. A stand in one corner held up a rugged suit of armor, scratched in a few places where it had saved the wearer's life. Next to it was a rack of weaponry. There were a few small blades and swords, along with a billy club that had caused many a stallion to wet himself after a beating.

Apricot's father had been a Canterlot guard, and his grandfather retired from soldiering to patrol the streets of Manehattan during some of its most turbulent years. Service ran in the family, so it had been quite a disappointment for everypony when he displayed absolutely no aptitude for it himself. The only passing marks he'd earned on his entrance exam were for marksmanship, and even there he was unspectacular. Luckily he could still remember how it all worked, and his aim had improved with practice.

First he loaded a pistol. Firearms were a new technology and still quite crude, but they got the job done and were relatively precise. Apricot fumbled with his flask, pouring powder down the barrel and stuffing the wadding down after it. Next came the ball. He repeated the whole process with a rifle and paused to stare at a portrait hanging on the wall.

Grapeshot had been dead for more than a decade. Apricot's memories of his grandfather weren't unpleasant, but the old stallion had been...opinionated. He came from a time when stallions were expected to be stallions, and Equestria belonged to equines alone. Bigotry had been as ordinary to him as breathing.

Times had changed, and every time Apricot handled his grandfather's weapons he couldn't help but wonder what the tough old geezer would think of him now. Grapeshot would definitely have hated Vaelin. Would he hate his grandson as well for being in such a relationship? It was a can of worms that frequently came open, and one that he had no time for right now.

The armor went next. All the scratches and fading paint in Equestria wouldn't change the fact that it was a solid bit of forge work. The weight felt good settled on his shoulders, even if he wasn't sure how useful it would be. Any standard-issue protective spells worked into the metal were very old and no doubt fading with age.

Now to find his husband. Apricot trotted up the stairs on three legs, holding his pistol with the fourth. He crept through the kitchen and den, jumping at every creek of the floorboards. Something terrible could be waiting for him around every corner.

Vaelin was lying in the doorway of his study. Apricot gasped and ran to the fallen deer, terrified that the worst had come to pass. He breathed a sigh of relief when he was able to find a pulse. There was hope for them yet. He tried to rouse his husband, shaking Vaelin and calling his name, but got no reaction.

An unfamiliar voice slithered into his ears and made him shiver. "That isn't going to help him."

The pegasus stiffened, hooves pulling back the hammer of his pistol. Someone or something was watching them, and it sounded very close. "He's dying. In another few minutes he'll stop breathing. After that his heart will shut down. The only way to save him is to do exactly what I tell you."

Apricot closed his eyes and tried to ignore the awful voice. Vaelin had tried to prepare him for something like this, just in case a monster came calling while the druid was off on business. When confronted with the unknown, the best thing to do was think independently. He needed to avoid playing into the hands of whatever had invaded his house.

Rather than answering the creature, Apricot dragged Vaelin's limp body into the study and shut the door. He gave the buck a quick once-over and discovered the bite mark on his ankle. It was quickly turning purple.

He rooted around in a large trunk that Vaelin had buried beneath a pile of books and manuscripts. After a minute he had what he needed. Apricot pulled out a small blue eggshell, light and delicate as morning frost. Inside was a powerful panacea that could neutralize most poisons. It was intended for snake venom, but hopefully it would work just as well for this. He threw the robin's egg into the buck's face. It cracked apart and threw sparkling blue powder all over the place.

Vaelin sat bolt upright with a scream that might have been funny in less dire circumstances. He looked awful, eyes wide and mane plastered to his face with sweat, but at least he was conscious. Apricot thought he might collapse with relief. "You scared the hell out of me," he said, and grabbed his husband in a hug.

After a little while Vaelin was able to compose himself. "There's something here," he said, shakily brushing hair from his eyes. "Something evil."

The voice behind the walls spoke again. It was an awful, raspy sound like sand paper grinding against his temples. "How very perceptive of you."

"What are you?" Apricot asked. "What do you want?"

"I'm hungry." It laughed, and the room suddenly felt much colder. "I was going to have him for dinner, your little hunk of venison. Such a shame that you interrupted me. The vermin are all gone, and I ran out of beef months ago. I was going to settle for you, but then that sexy pile of meat walked by. How could I resist him? I might even let you live if you give him to me."

"Fuck you!" Apricot snarled. He tried his best to sound brave, but the weakness in his voice undermined it. "We're in here and you're out there. I've never killed anypony before, but if you open that door I'll blast you into bloody chunks."

The voice didn't answer right away. Apricot glanced over at the window to see if he and Vaelin could fit through it, only to find that the windowsill was occupied. Henry sat there, staring at both of them with a look of mild disdain. The cat's mouth opened, and that terrible voice came out of it. "Why would I need to open the door, Apricot? I'm already inside. I'm all around you. Have been for ages and you never noticed."

"What the hell did you do to my cat?"

Henry chuckled and licked his paw. "I ate him," he said. "What else? I eat everyone eventually. Your cat's been dead for months, Apricot. You just didn't know because he hasn't stopped moving." His eyes, looking very much alive, stared at them with frightful intensity. "I'll have new clothes before the night is over. Yours or the druid's, I don't care which."

Apricot stepped up to the window, ignoring Vaelin's warnings. "You killed my neighbor, didn't you?" he asked. "And all those poor cows. How did you do it? You can't be very big if you fit inside Henry's body."

"There's more of me than you think." The thing in Henry's skin looked quite pleased with itself. "It isn't every day that I get to consume an entire herd of you glassy-eyed vertebrates. You're all so soft and juicy on the inside. I don't know how you can stand it."

"So you're some kind of insect?" Apricot squinted at the thing that had once been his cat. "Can you fly?"

Henry's head cocked to the side. "I'll be able to fly once I have your wings, but not yet. Why do you ask?"

Apricot grabbed a book from the desk and smashed it into the creature's face. It tumbled out of the window and off the roof. "No reason!" he said, and slammed the window shut so hard that the glass cracked.

Things were quiet for a little while. "That won't keep him out," Vaelin warned. "He's still in here. He's everywhere."

Apricot helped his husband into the chair and began to examine his leg. It wasn't so swollen now, and the skin was already returning to its natural color. "Tell me what it is. How do we stop it?"

Vaelin took a few deep breaths and tried to calm himself down. Neither of them could afford to panic. "As far as I can tell, it's a monster from zebra legends. All the spiders in an area band together and form this...hungry spirit, I guess. I don't know what else to call it. They multiply until there's enough to consume something large, then hollow out the body and use it to draw in more prey. I think it's supposed to be a punishment for refusing hospitality. This one just didn't stop after killing its intended victim."

"That's a pretty drastic punishment," Apricot grumbled. "And spiders of all things? I hate spiders."

Something beneath the floor let out a quiet rasping noise. "Now we know what the sound in the orchard was," Vaelin said. "Some spiders stridulate like crickets. We were hearing millions of them doing it at the same time."

Apricot stomped on the floor hard enough to shake the whole house, and the noise stopped. "I'm burning this whole place to the ground with you creeps inside! You hear that? When I get out of this room I'm going to douse it in lamp oil and listen to every last one of you scream!"

Once again, the voice answered. "There is only one of me, Apricot. One of me in a million bodies."

Thinking about all those creepy crawlies scurrying beneath the floorboards and inside the walls made him want to scream. Apricot hugged Vaelin and tried to take comfort from the deer's presence. They were both alive, and the spiders hadn't entered the room yet. That had to count for something. "You used a spell to keep them away, didn't you?"

"I did," Vaelin said. "It's a protective rune that prevents the spiders from working together and causes them to flee. It's meant to be an insect repellent for mosquitoes and such. Pretty basic magic, and it won't last forever." Already there were spindly legs reaching beneath the door and shuffling noises in the walls. "We need to get out of here, hon. My magic won't protect us for very long."

Apricot looked to the window, wondering how far he'd make it if he had to carry Vaelin on his back. He wasn't a strong flier, but they could probably get to the edge of his property before touching down. Would that be enough? Were there more spiders outside, surrounding his orchard?

"I know what you're thinking," the monster said, breaking his train of thought. "I am not a fool, Apricot. I won't let you escape. Even if you do get away and return with all your husband's druid friends, I won't be here. I'll just disappear and come back in a few years when you least expect it. One day you'll kiss your husband or hug your mother and they'll be filled to the brim with spiders. You'll never know until it's too late."

What a horrifying thought. Apricot would almost rather give up now than go through life with that hanging over him. He could feel Vaelin shivering against him. They were both terrified, but neither wanted to let the other down by showing it. "I don't know what to do," he whispered. "We can't run. Even if we make it out of here, it'll just be a matter of time. Can you use that spell again?"

Vaelin nodded. He looked distracted, his eyes following the spiders that were gradually sneaking in under the door. Shadows danced across the room, cast by dozens of fat arachnid bodies crawling across the window outside. "Two or three more times, I think. It's not an exact science." He nudged the pegasus with his injured hoof. "That was some quick thinking, by the way. I might have lost this leg if you hadn't found me in time."

"For all the good it's going to do us," Apricot muttered gloomily.

"Hey, don't be like that." Vaelin kissed him and smiled. It looked forced, but only a little. "I've been in worse situations. We'll figure this out."

The clock on the wall marked each passing minute. Apricot wondered how many of them he had left. Soon the walls and ceiling were covered with teeming hoards of spiders, a brown-black carpet of squirming legs and bulbous bodies that made him shake all over. He'd never seen spiders this size on the farm before. Some were small and harmless-looking, but others were the size of mice.

Vaelin cast the spell again, and green fire flared up around him. It singed the floor, but thankfully not the pegasus clinging to him. Instantly the hoard fell into disarray, skittering back and forth as each spider desperately tried to find somewhere dark to hide.

Apricot looked down at the pistol lying on the floor. He wouldn't get much use out of it, apart from sparing himself the immense pain of being eaten alive. His powder flask was still almost full, but he'd have traded it all for a bit of lamp oil to set the house alight. That probably wouldn't kill all of the little bastards, but it'd be a good start.

All of a sudden, the answer came to him. Apricot knew what needed to be done. "Vaelin, can you cast that spell in reverse?" He leaped to his hooves and ran to the window, gingerly pushing it open to avoid letting any of the spiders fall on him. "It's supposed to be a bug repellent, but can you make it a bug...non-repellent?"

"Attractant," Vaelin corrected. "I suppose I could, but I don't see how that would help us now."

"What kind of range does it have?" Apricot grabbed his husband and yanked the deer onto his back, then winced as his legs shook. It was a good thing they hadn't tried to fly all the way to town. Vaelin wasn't fat, but he was heavy enough to wear out a pair of weak wings. "It needs to be big. Really, really big! I'm talking about pulling in every spider for miles around."

Vaelin let out another embarrassing scream as they hurdled through the window. "Slow down!" he shouted, but the pegasus ignored him. When Apricot got excited about something there was no holding him back. "Too high! Too high!"

They soared safely over the orchard. It looked entirely too peaceful to be hiding something so terrible. Apricot touched down outside his shed and yanked the door open. "How long do we have before the spell fades?" he asked.

"Ten minutes, give or take." Vaelin looked over at the treeline, watching the leaves shift in the breeze. "I can't sense the spiders under its control," he said. "I'm trying really hard not to freak out at the implications of that. If this creature is powerful enough to hide from a druid's magic, what else can it do?"

Apricot was busy throwing things into a sack. "You know what it can do?" he asked. "It can kiss my ass. I'm scared and angry and barely holding myself together right now. This thing already controls spiders and eats ponies from the inside out. I don't think I can handle anything else. Can you carry all of this if I hold onto you?"

Vaelin hefted the sack and grunted at the weight. "Good grief, what's in this?"

"Kerosene," Apricot said. He grabbed his husband and took off once more. "There's also all the lamp oil and gunpowder I have." Now the added weight was almost too much for him to handle. His landing outside the barn looked a lot like an exhausted tumble into the dirt.

Vaelin helped him up. "Six minutes," he said. "Are you sure about this? You're going to burn some of your trees, hon. Maybe all of them. Heck, it might even spread to your home."

The pegasus shrugged. "Then we can be homeless together. I always thought it'd be fun to be a hobo. Do you have any better ideas?"

For a second they were both silent. "No," Vaelin admitted. "If it was one big spider I could just ask a tree to squash it. That's usually my go-to move. They'd never get all the little ones, though. Trees just aren't very precise creatures."

Apricot nodded. "Focus on making a safe place for us instead. It doesn't have to be very big, just a section of ground where the spiders and the flames won't touch us."

While his husband traced out runes on the ground, Apricot set to work on the barn. He doused everything in sight with kerosene and lamp oil, then carefully lit the lantern hanging on a hook near the door. There was a huge pile of densely-packed hay beneath it that would make marvelous kindling.

On a whim the pegasus trotted to the back of the barn and looked off into the distance. The orchard was lovely this time of year, a carpet of orange and yellow that shimmered in the wind. It was a picturesque view, particularly when the sun was setting. With a sad sigh Apricot recalled the many evenings he and Vaelin had spent in the loft, cuddling together as they talked about the future and took in the scenery. The two of them had made many happy memories in this old barn. He was going to miss it.

Something dropped out of the barn's loft and landed right behind him. It spoke with Tarnation's voice, but sounded far kinder than the body's previous owner had ever been. "Hello, neighbor."

Apricot tried to scream. The only sound he could produce was a pathetic, mewling whimper. He knew that he should run, but his legs refused to obey him. Terror had paralyzed him far more effectively than the creature's venom ever could.

"I'm going to kiss you now," the monster said. It calmly stepped around him, smirking with a dead stallion's face. "Try not to struggle too much. Wouldn't want to break the skin and ruin you, would we?" Tarnation's mouth opened wide, then kept right on opening far beyond the point that it should have stopped. There was a squirming, chittering mass of spiders inside where his tongue and throat should have been.

Many years ago Apricot had tried to talk to his grandfather about life in the military. Grapeshot wasn't a talkative pony even at the best of times, but he'd gotten even more withdrawn when his life as a soldier was brought up. He'd disappeared into his own thoughts, shutting down and becoming dead to the world.

Apricot's father had taken him aside and tried to explain. Some things were so awful that a pony just couldn't be the same after seeing them. It was like an injury that never fully healed, but it affected a stallion's mind instead of his body. As a young colt growing up in peaceful times he'd never been able to understand.

Now he understood. He understood perfectly. The sight of this abomination was bad enough, but the knowledge that it could even exist was infinitely worse. He knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that he'd never be able to talk about this moment again.

One of the spiders reached for him, and Apricot recognized it. It was the same giant bastard that had frightened him to death only a few days before in this same barn. For some reason that small surprise startled him into action when the very real threat of a horrible death couldn't. He recoiled, screaming his lungs out and kicking with his hooves.

He only succeeded in annoying the thing. Tarnation's forelegs caught him, and he was hurled against the wall hard enough to knock the wind out of him. Apricot's head smacked into the edge of his workbench, knocking odds and ends all over the ground. The world went fuzzy and his legs lost their considerable strength.

"You're such a worthless little shit," the spiders said. "Can't even get eaten without messing it up."

The pegasus shook his head to clear it and found himself staring at a half-empty can of paint. He grabbed it without a second thought, swinging it by the handle as hard as he could. It smacked into Tarnation's jaw, shattering the bones and sending them flying. The spider colony lost its balance for a second, stumbling as it tried to right itself.

Now he was able to get his hooves beneath him. Apricot reared up and hurled the bucket right into the monster's face. Paint splattered over it, and immediately it lost all cohesion. A sound like thousands of ear-splitting screams filled the air, and Tarnation's body collapsed in on itself. The skin rippled and heaved, every spider desperately trying to escape it.

Apricot rocketed out of the barn, wings pumping harder than they ever had before. Vaelin was waiting, kneeling down in a circle of braided vines that pulsed with magical light. "What the hell was all that?" he demanded. The poor deer looked like he was at the very end of his rope. It was hard to blame him.

"I need you to cast that spell now," Apricot said. He grabbed his rifle and checked that it was loaded. "Cast it on the barn. Give it everything that you've got, okay? Pull in every spider for ten miles if you can. Make damned sure that none of them can stay away."

The druid took a deep breath and closed his eyes. The change in the air was palpable, but very hard to define. Minutes passed, and Apricot's feathers began to tingle. It was like being in the center of a thunderstorm right before a lightning strike. Vaelin finally released the spell, slumping to the ground with an exhausted gasp.

Spiders trickled in slowly at first. They had a lot of ground to cover and tiny legs with which to do it, so it was a long wait. Hour by hour more of them showed up, until the flood of ugly arachnids was so thick that they completely hid the ground. None of them approached the small protective circle that Vaelin had created.

They waited until sunset, when the last few arachnids joined their comrades inside the barn. The whole building was covered in a shimmering black carpet of spiders, with a roiling mound of them right in the barn's center. They crawled over one another, mindlessly trying to get as close as possible to the spell's epicenter. "It's time," Vaelin said. "I think that's all of them."

"So do I." Apricot took aim with his rifle at the lantern, barely able to see it beneath the skittering hoard. Any spiders that crawled across the glass quickly overheated and died, but more kept joining them.

The monster's voice rang out a final time, but it didn't form any words. The magic must have been interfering with it. All it could produce was a loud, panicked scream.

"This is for killing my cat," Apricot muttered. He pulled the trigger, and a lead slug blasted the lantern apart. The whole barn went up like a torch. The heat washed over them, and for a second it seemed like they'd be consumed by the flames even though they were at least fifty yards away.

Vaelin's circle held. Apricot and his husband hugged each other, watching as the fires raged and the hoard of little monsters died. The hotter it burned, the more relieved they felt. They didn't even mind when the surrounding trees caught fire.

It was almost dawn by the time the flames died down and the last smoldering board crumbled into ash. Apricot and Vaelin fell asleep in their little ring of protective magic. When they awoke sometime near noon, neither had much to say. They set out for the druid's sacred grove without a word, and without stopping at the farmhouse to pack.

__________

Apricot and Vaelin didn't return home until after Hearth's Warming Eve. When they did, it was a relief to see that the orchard was safe once more. Half a dozen druids and three zebra shamans had purified the area, making absolutely certain that the spider creature was truly dead. None of them had a name for the thing, and perhaps it was better that way. If something that horrifying could be created by a zebra spell, it was best to let that spell be forgotten.

"I know you miss Henry," the buck said, hugging Apricot as they lit a fire in the den. "He was a good cat." Apricot nodded in agreement. They had both been immensely lucky to escape with their lives, but it was hard to get over the loss of his beloved cat. After all, Henry had been with him for even longer than his husband. They were family. "I have a surprise for you," Vaelin continued. "Wait right there."

Apricot watched him trot away, wondering what he had in mind. It was pretty easy to guess, but he didn't want to get his hopes up. Soon Vaelin returned with a pet kennel balanced on his back. "I know she's not the same, but I thought you might like someone else to keep you company when I'm away on bus-GUH!" The pegasus took him by surprise, hugging so tightly that he almost knocked the poor kitten's carrier onto the floor.

"I love you," Apricot murmured.

Vaelin chuckled and kissed his cheek. "I love you too, dork."

---

I hope you enjoyed it!