Soren's room smelled faintly of damp soil, cork bark, and the coffee his mother had left in a travel mug on his desk that morning.
He didn't mind the smell.
It meant everything was where it belonged.
He sat cross-legged on the floor in front of Valhalla's enclosure with his notebook open beside him. The glass was cool beneath his fingertips as he checked the temperature gauge, then the humidity gauge, then the water dish.
Temperature: stable.
Humidity: stable.
Water: clean.
Substrate: dry enough at the surface, damp enough below.
Soren nodded.
"You're welcome."
Valhalla remained beneath his shelter.
The tarantula was large enough now that Soren could no longer comfortably compare him to any ordinary spider. His body was broad and dark, with striking coloration across the carapace and abdomen. The legs were long and densely covered with fine hairs that caught the light whenever he moved.
Soren had spent months learning the difference between Valhalla's normal movements and movements that meant something was wrong.
He knew what Valhalla looked like when he was hungry.
He knew what he looked like when he was irritated.
He knew how still the spider became before a molt, how carefully he moved when something in the enclosure bothered him, and how quickly his behavior could change if Soren disturbed him at the wrong time.
That knowledge mattered.
A tarantula couldn't tell its keeper what it needed.
The keeper had to learn to pay attention.
Soren lifted the lid carefully.
Valhalla moved one leg.
Soren stopped.
"Okay."
He waited.
The spider remained still.
Soren continued.
He adjusted the position of a piece of cork bark that had shifted during the night. He checked the water dish again, then added a small amount of clean water.
Valhalla finally emerged.
Soren watched him move across the substrate.
He didn't hurry.
Valhalla never seemed to hurry unless food was involved.
"Morning."
The spider continued walking.
Soren smiled.
"You're ignoring me."
Valhalla disappeared beneath the cork again.
"Fine."
Soren closed the enclosure.
His phone buzzed.
A message from Liv.
You alive?
Soren typed back.
Unfortunately.
Three dots appeared almost immediately.
Good. I need you after school.
Soren frowned.
Why?
The reply came.
Because I said so.
He stared at the screen.
That's not a reason.
It is when I say it.
Soren laughed.
He put the phone down.
Then he noticed Valhalla again.
The spider had come out from beneath the cork.
Soren's smile disappeared.
Valhalla was facing the far wall of the bedroom.
Not toward Soren.
Not toward the enclosure door.
Toward the opposite side of the room.
Soren watched him.
"What's over there?"
Valhalla remained still.
Soren glanced at the wall.
A bookshelf.
A window.
Nothing else.
He checked the window first. It was closed.
The curtains were still.
He checked the floor.
Nothing had fallen.
He looked at the enclosure's temperature gauge.
Normal.
Humidity.
Normal.
He moved his hand slowly near the glass.
Valhalla didn't react.
Soren lowered his hand.
"Okay."
The spider remained focused on the wall.
Soren opened his notebook and wrote:
08:14 — Valhalla focused toward north wall for approximately thirty seconds. No visible stimulus.
He paused.
Then added:
Behavior otherwise normal.
He closed the notebook.
That was how Soren handled things he couldn't explain.
He didn't immediately decide they meant something.
He recorded them.
Then he waited.
At school, Liv was waiting for him beside the science building.
She had her camera hanging from a strap around her neck.
Soren pointed at it.
"What are you doing?"
"Taking pictures."
"Of what?"
"Things."
He gave her a skeptical look.
"That's specific."
"I try."
She started walking.
Soren followed.
"You said you needed me."
"I do."
"For what?"
She stopped beside a tree and raised the camera.
"Stand there."
"Why?"
"Because you're already asking too many questions."
Soren stared at her.
"That doesn't answer mine."
Liv smiled.
"Exactly."
She lifted the camera.
Soren reluctantly stood where she pointed.
"Do I have to smile?"
"No."
"Good."
"Actually, don't move."
Soren folded his arms.
Liv looked through the viewfinder.
"You're doing that thing."
"What thing?"
"Trying to look like you don't care."
"I don't care."
She lowered the camera and looked at him.
"You're fifteen."
"So?"
"So you're not nearly as mysterious as you think you are."
Soren tried not to smile.
Liv raised the camera again.
This time the shutter clicked.
"Got it."
She lowered it.
Soren walked over.
"What was that for?"
"School project."
"About?"
"Ravenfall."
He looked around.
The school grounds were ordinary: cracked pavement, old brick, trees planted decades ago, and a chain-link fence separating the athletic field from the road.
"What about Ravenfall?"
"How it changes."
She showed him the photograph.
It was a picture of the oldest section of the school, where newer construction had been added onto the original brick building.
"You see the difference?"
Soren studied it.
"The brick."
"Yeah."
"The windows don't match."
"Exactly."
She smiled.
"You notice things too."
"Sometimes."
Liv looked at him.
"More than sometimes."
He handed the camera back.
They started toward class.
After a few steps, Soren glanced at her.
"You really like taking pictures of old buildings?"
"I like having proof."
"Proof of what?"
"That something was there."
She said it casually, but Soren noticed the way her expression changed when she looked back at the old school.
Not sad.
Not exactly.
Thoughtful.
"What if it gets torn down?" he asked.
"Then I still have the picture."
Soren nodded.
That made sense to him.
After school, he returned home and checked Valhalla again.
The spider was where he had left him.
Normal.
Soren opened the enclosure and placed a small feeder insect inside.
Valhalla noticed immediately.
The spider lowered his body.
Soren watched.
The strike was quick and precise.
He smiled and wrote down the feeding response.
Then thunder sounded in the distance.
Not loud.
Just a low rumble beneath the afternoon clouds.
Valhalla froze.
Soren looked at him.
Another rumble followed.
The spider backed farther beneath the cork bark.
Soren's expression tightened.
That was different.
He knew Valhalla.
Thunder wasn't new.
Storms weren't new.
But this reaction was.
Soren moved closer to the enclosure.
"Hey."
Valhalla didn't come out.
Soren looked toward the window.
The sky had darkened.
Rain began tapping against the glass.
He looked back at the spider.
Valhalla remained pressed beneath the shelter, every leg positioned tightly beneath his body.
Soren reached for his notebook.
He wrote slowly.
Storm response: unusually defensive.
He stopped.
Then added:
Possible vibration sensitivity. Monitor.
He closed the notebook.
"Probably the storm."
He said it aloud because saying something ordinary made the strange thing feel ordinary again.
Outside, rain swept across Ravenfall.
The sound filled the room.
Valhalla stayed beneath the cork.
Soren watched him for another minute.
Then he turned back toward his homework.
He had no reason to believe the spider had sensed anything important.
As far as Soren knew, Valhalla was simply reacting to weather.
And that was exactly what Soren wanted to believe.