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among the geometric patterns knitted in its web. He bent beneath it and tossed a loose warning back to Ian. Seconds later, Ian bellowed a curse.
    Grant hurried back to see Ian’s head entangled in the web, the dusty brown spider attached. Ian scrabbled backward, the web and spider wafting after him. Yelling, batting, retreating, he barreled through a copse of low trees directly into more webs, a cluster of them glinting in the sun. He gave a harsh cry, arms flailing like a windmill, harvesting each one as though on purpose. Finally, he toppled over, covered in web, swatting spasmodically. Grant reached him and brushed the spiders free.
    â€œChrist, Grant,” he said, sounding baffled. “Why didn’t you tell me there was a spider?”
    â€œIt was over half a foot long—I didn’t think you could miss it. Besides, you’ve made it past everything else in the trail.”
    â€œEverything else? I didn’t see anything else!” Lips thinned, Ian clutched the earth at his sides. “I’ve had it with this antediluvian muddle! I tell you right now. I’m done and you can go to—”
    Grant slid his machete free and raised it high. Ian’s eyes grew wide. “I take it back! I’m not complaining!” But Grant had already swung the blade, slicing through a leaf near Ian’s hip.
    There, on the ground, just beside Ian’s splayed fingers, was a footprint.
    Â 
    â€œHow’d the morning go?” Cammy asked when Tori strolled in. Strips of spiky palm fronds littered the floor around her. One green sliver had caught in her hair and protruded upright.
    â€œThe sailors got a taste of island life,” Tori said with a grin. It faded when she saw Cammy was weaving a broad-brimmed hat, most likely for her. She hid a grimace at the bright feathers scattered all over the floor, soon to be hat plumage. Cammy was enjoying herself, but a milliner she was not.
    â€œAnd the big one? How’d he react?”
    â€œSadly, we’ll never know. He didn’t eat.”
    â€œA lunatic drunk who doesn’t eat?”
    Tori chuckled. “I think he’s actually the captain. He left to go bathe.”
    One red eyebrow cocked. “Bathe?”
    Curse it! Sorting the feathers by color grew very important. “He left in that direction,” she said airily.
    â€œUh-huh.”
    â€œOh, very well,” Tori said, lifting her face. “I followed him to the falls and watched him.”
    Cammy’s eyes grew bright. “Did he undress completely?”
    Tori folded her lips in and nodded, blushing anew.
    Cammy sighed, resting her chin in her palm. “Was he handsome?”
    Tori paused, wondering how to convey how heart-stopping she’d found his huge, rugged body. “The most handsome man I’ve seen in years.”
    â€œIn years? Well, aren’t you the amusing one today?” Cammy stabbed a bright yellow feather into the finished hat. “Spying on naked men agrees with you.”
    Tori flashed her a quelling look, then crossed to the fire pit. She dug up an ember and added tinder she’d gathered during the day. Kneeling, she blew against the twigs, feeding in larger branches, and soon a fire crackled to life. “Are you hungry?”
    Cammy laid the hat aside and sat down on a driftwood log near the fire. “Unceasingly, no,” she said, anxiously stretching to the warmth. “Am I ever? I’ve forgotten everything about appetite except how to spell it.” She frowned. “And that might be gone as well.” Biting her lip, she reached down to draw letters in the dirt.
    Tori pasted on an excited smile. “Well, you’re going to want to eat tonight. I’ve found a good supply of taro.”
    Cammy looked up with a grimace. “Taro. Delightful.”
    Tori sighed as she placed a halved taro and a butterflied fish on their makeshift grill, forcing her mind away from visions of tarts, milk,