“Do you remember that night when we first talked under the eaves?” Furi asked.

  “How can I forget? You nearly knocked me off the veranda, I was so surprised to find you there watching me.”

  “That seems fair, considering.”

  “Indeed.”

  “You talked about my parents’ love story.”

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  “Ahh,” I sighed. “The records.”

  “How far is the journey?”

  “A fair distance. Mountainous. And dangerous.”

  She paused, waiting to see if I would offer.

  “You want to go.”

  She averted her eyes. Knew I wouldn’t like the idea. “The journey is full of risks, and it would delay my resuming work on the anti-venom.”

  She nodded her agreement with this. The antidote to her poison was all-important. An antidote was unlikely, however. A stab of guilt twisted in my gut for raising Furi’s hopes on that score. But the records—the records lay at a perilous elevation well beyond the reaches of the Spirit Garden, where jorogumo hunted freely from human and beast who ventured near. I didn’t like to go alone, and liked even less the idea of taking Furi there.