Spidersilk was a near-mythical material made by horse-sized stygian spiders—so rare that you had to brave the spiders yourself to get it. And they didn’t trade in gold. No, they coveted things like dreams and memories and souls. The merchant she’d met had traded twenty years of his youth for two hundred yards of it. And after a long, strange conversation with him, he’d given her a few square inches of Spidersilk. As a reminder, he’d said. That everything has a price.
