Blackfeather Woods We're driving in a black car

It was always a curious thing when events came full circle. It seemed like not so long ago (and yet, a million years had passed) that Cicero had warned Maegi away from the willow, and her introduction to poisons had begun. Now, as she drew near to the tree she hadn't visited in some time, she caught the small, pale figure much too close—and hobbled forward at an ungainly trot, chuffing at her son to catch his attention.

Anansi, she called out, concern but no anger in her voice. She drew alongside him, attempting to herd the boy away from the most potent areas around the willow. Come on, follow me—you can't get this close to the tree without knowing what it is, and what it does.

Hopefully, he would be obedient enough to follow her without issue. She, after all, had been a dutiful child, and had heeded Cicero with no argument given. She wasn't sure if Anansi was cut from the same cloth; Maegi supposed she was about to find out.