Honeycomb by Joanne Harris (book series for 12 year olds .txt) 📕

“Execution, or murder?” said the Lacewing King from his bubble. “Execute me, if you must, but leave the Princess out of this.” He indicated the spider-cocoon hanging from the crow’s nest, the anguished face of the Barefoot Princess just visible beneath the silk.

The Dragonfly Queen and the Queen Below agreed that this was reasonable. In spite of the Spider Queen’s protests, the Dragonfly Guards cut down the cocoon, and soon the Barefoot Princess was free. The cloud of bees surrounded her, buzzing and swarming fretfully. At a sign from the Lacewing King, they settled onto her shoulders.

“Very well,” said the Spider Queen. “But I have the right to justice.”

The two other Queens exchanged glances.

“Justice,” said the Dragonfly Queen, “would suggest a trial.”

The Spider Queen managed to hide her anger. “And who would preside?” she said at last.

“We would,” replied the two Queens. “Let us hear the charges.”

For a moment, the Spider Queen hesitated. Then, she shrugged. “So be it,” she said. And turning to the two Queens, she began to enumerate the crimes committed by the Lacewing King; which were many, including; trespass, theft, perjury, and making a false promise of marriage, with all the subsequent pain and expense that this had entailed the would-be bride.

Inside his bubble, the Lacewing King acknowledged that the Queen had a point, but wondered if the return of her crown, plus a heartfelt apology, and maybe a share in his personal fortune (which was large) might perhaps help take the sting from an insult given over a century ago.

“I don’t think so,” said the Queen. “The Worlds will be better without you.” And, shifting back into her primary Aspect, she started to move towards her prey.

But the Barefoot Princess appealed to the court, saying, “If this is a trial, then where is the counsel for the defence? If my guardian has done wrong, then let the wrong be righted. But I refuse to believe that the wrongs he has done outweigh the good.”

The Spider Queen looked sceptical. “Your guardian, as you call him,” she said, “has never done anything in his life but lie, and steal, and cause misery. Is there anyone here who can speak for him?”

“I can,” said the Barefoot Princess. “He was good and kind to me.”

“Out of guilt,” sneered the Spider Queen. “You think I don’t know how he rescued you? How he seduced your grandmother and let her die, blind and helpless? Even without my thousand eyes, my web still brings me all the news, and if your King has ever had a single moment of altruism, if he has ever selflessly brought happiness to anyone, then I swear I will give up my revenge and go back immediately to my lair.”

For a moment, the Barefoot Princess considered the words of the Spider Queen.

“Do you mean it?” she said at last.

The Spider Queen flexed her jaws. “I swear it on the Old Ones.”

“Very well,” said the Barefoot Princess. “Give me three days to prove you wrong. If I can find what I’m looking for, then you must give up your revenge. If not, then take my life. I owe it to him, anyway.”

The Spider Queen agreed to the plan, although the Lacewing King did not. Trapped inside his bubble, he gave full vent to his protest. But the Barefoot Princess was his granddaughter in stubbornness as well as in blood, and she refused to listen. Instead she had him lowered back safely into the depths of the Sea. The Dragonfly Queen and her daughter remained to supervise the proceedings, and the Princess then sent out the swarm of bees that had been her constant companions, telling them to search the Worlds for someone who would speak for the King.

Meanwhile, the Spider Queen found a place high in the rigging of the ship, and began to spin a funnel web so lovely and so intricate, stitched throughout with symbols and runes, that even her spider crew could not see where in the Worlds the funnel led. No one asked why she was doing this. No one suspected foul play. She was a spider, after all; and spiders weave—it’s their nature.

The first day passed. The Lacewing King begged for release, offering his own life in return for that of the Princess. But the Spider Queen simply smiled and said, “A promise is a promise,” and flexed her giant mandibles, and spun her web, and watched for the bees. But at the end of the first day, none of the bees had found what they sought. There were many stories of the Lacewing King’s cruelty, stories of his restlessness, many tales of his lies and deceit, but nothing wholly selfless.

The second day passed. The Lacewing King pleaded once more with the Spider Queen. But the Spider Queen ignored him, her ghastly smile growing broader. By that evening, when the sun had vanished beyond the distant horizon, try as they might, none of the bees had found as much as a rumour of a selfless deed, or an act of honest love carried out by the Lacewing King.

The third day dawned. By now the bees, short of nectar, were beginning to fail. The Barefoot Princess sent them off from the crow’s nest of the ship, while the Spider Queen spun her web and smiled, and the Lacewing King stood silent and pale inside his bubble of sea-spider silk and waited for the inevitable.

The evening of the third day came. None of the bees had yet returned. The Barefoot Princess, in her crow’s nest, had started to doubt they ever would. The sky grew red; the sun sank low. Only a sliver of brightness now showed on the purple horizon. The Spider Queen smiled at the other two Queens, awaiting the outcome of the game. But even they had given up hope of seeing the Princess evade her fate.

But then, just as the sun began its final journey, there came a flash of something green upon the far horizon. And in its