Darkest Night

The spider laughs. "Yes, of course, goblins go best with a little sugar and nutmeg. I shall have to acquire some." The spider's back legs begin to work as if spinning something complicated behind it. You don't dare comment on the task, fearing you might offend your, uh, "gracious" host.

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The spider then hands you a finely woven cloak. It's light as clouds and shimmers like fiery opals. "This may keep you warm," the spider says. "The deeper you go, the colder it becomes. Take care."

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You wrap the cloak around your shoulders and feel instantly better. Though the cold is still seeped well into your body, you have a feeling that with the cloak with you it won't be long until you're warm again.

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The spider lets you climb on its back as it takes you through the forest into the next clearing. Despite the terror you've felt this whole time, the spider's thick hair (fur?) keeps you warm, and you're happy not to have to walk so far again.

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The spider lowers you down by a thick strand of silk, the torch still blazing in your hand. When you are safely detached, it scurries away, silent as a whisper.

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You can't see much of this clearing. The torch helps but it doesn't throw light like your lantern had. You carefully stumble around, looking for anything or anyone. Maybe there's something like the table you had come across? Notes? Stones

 

Tentatively, you start to go towards the trees.

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It's then that you see words carved letter by letter into the bark:

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"We are still here. We are still waiting."

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The fire doesn't seem to warm you anymore and shivers run through you despite the spider-woven cloak. You decide to read a book that's been on your shelf or your TBR forever.

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"One year ago," a chorus of voices say in unison, "there were many demons. Who was NOT present at the summoning?"