“With winter coming, your hive could budget to the last sip of honey, the last grain of pollen. With knowledge, you could save yourselves. . . . One bee, one answer. One bee . . . one answer.” She began to revolve, her white belly shining and disappearing, shining and disappearing. “One bee . . . one answer . . .” Other spiders dropped down from their webs, slowly twirling pendants beneath the leaves. Brown and white. Brown and white.
