Our breath condensed in the cool, wet air seeping down the channel, and the trees above us blotted out the star-filled sky. The steep walls of the creek glittered with iridescent droplets, which I thought at first were dew. Then I saw they were the eyes of tropical wolf spiders, and the blood drained from my face. Some were nearly the size of my hand. Brian brushed past them without concern, pointing out another Theraphosa crouched beneath a rotting log.
