Translated from Romanian.

The place where the spider had built his shelter seemed to come out of a dream. Three trees, with trunks as thick as the walls of a fortress, spread their branches above a suspended clearing. Between them, over the years, Varo had woven a web like no other. It was not a mere trap, but a true aerial construction, made of several levels joined by threads as thin as they were strong as steel. In the morning light, deep in the endless Amazon rainforest, when drops of dew settled on the silk stretched between the trees, the whole structure shone like a crystal palace. Varo was the master of this suspended kingdom. He belonged to a species of spider so rare that his existence seemed more like a legend of the jungle than a real fact.
He had a robust body, covered with fine hairs that gleamed in coppery shades. On his abdomen he bore blue and silver patterns, like rivers seen from above, and his eight long, flexible legs allowed him to move with astonishing agility among the threads of his own creation.
Every day began the same way. He settled at the edge of the structure, in the shelter of the leaves that had grown around a rebellious branch, and waited. His many eyes caught the slightest vibration, and his patience was almost limitless. He felt in the threads every breath of wind, every step of an insect or accidental touch of a leaf.
But the most unusual thing in his life was a wasp.
Caught many weeks earlier, she had not been devoured like the other victims. For reasons only he knew, he had let her live. He had even built her a special chamber of silk, hidden between two levels of the web.
Every day the wasp flew through the forest and came back laden with pollen and nectar. The hairs on her body held the golden dust of tropical flowers, and on her mandibles she brought traces of nectar. Varo carefully gathered these gifts, turning them with the help of his saliva into a precious paste, which he sheltered from the damp weather. A strange bond had formed between the two, one that none of the creatures of the jungle could have understood.
That morning, the air was so humid that it seemed liquid. The mist was still floating among the trees when Varo felt vibrations in the threads. At first he thought it was just an ordinary insect, but as it came closer he realised that it resembled nothing he had ever seen before.
Out of the whitish curtain appeared a gleaming silhouette, with a long, slender body coloured in green and blue reflections that changed with the light. Four wings, seemingly forged from fine glass, began to stir his web. At first sight it looked like a dragonfly, but one born of an error of nature or of a feverish dream. The segments of its abdomen seemed carved, too perfect, ending in a thin, rigid point that recalled a needle rather than a natural organ. Varo fixed his gaze on the creature's head, and what truly unsettled him were its eyes.
They were enormous. Black and unusually attentive.
The creature did not fly at random. It seemed to be studying every level of the web, every passage and knot of silk. It stopped in mid-air without any effort and gazed at the nest for a long time. No insect had ever come so close without being caught. Before the master of the dwelling could put together any plan, the long-bodied creature with transparent wings ended its visit as abruptly as it had begun. It set off towards the nearby thicket and disappeared with a fine, rhythmic sound, like a whisper repeated too softly to be understood.
The next morning, when the first rays were just beginning to pierce the endless canopy, Varo went down to one of the lower levels of the web. The night had been rich in rain, and the air still kept the damp freshness of the storm. Large drops of water hung from the edges of the leaves and fell from time to time into the void, striking the vegetation with soft, almost musical sounds. The whole forest was wrapped in a greenish light, filtered by the thousands of leaves that made up the living roof of the jungle.
Hidden under a curled leaf lay one of Varo's most precious secrets. Sheltered from the rain and the midday heat, the golden paste he had prepared with almost ritual patience from the pollen and nectar his wasp brought every day was carefully stored along a hollow in a dry branch.
The spider gently lifted the edge of the leaf, tensing his senses, and looked cautiously around the store. After a few seconds, pleased with the result, he contemplated the gleaming reserve with satisfaction.
The paste had the colour of fresh honey and gave off a sweet, subtle, intoxicating scent, in which the aromas of hundreds of tropical flowers mingled. In the years spent in this corner of the forest, Varo had perfected the recipe to a level no other creature could have understood. The pollen was mixed with nectar and his own secretions, then kneaded at length until it became a substance capable of turning even the most cautious insect into a defenceless victim.
Now, however, Varo was not preparing for an ordinary hunt. His thoughts kept flying to the mysterious creature that had circled him. The way it had floated motionless in the air, as if it were not subject to the same laws of nature as every other creature, had left him with a feeling that was hard to define.
It was not fear. Nor admiration. It was something far more disturbing: the impression that he was being observed with the same attention with which he himself studied his prey. Instinct made him look towards the upper levels of the web. He watched the foliage and listened to the constant vibration of the threads. No immediate threat.
He took a small amount of paste and began to spread it on the outer threads. Pleased with the result, he gathered a lump of the substance with two of his legs and set off for the upper level of the structure. He got there quickly and began to prepare the web. His movements were precise and sure. Here and there, tiny drops remained on the silk, glittering like beads of amber suspended in the air. Soon the sweetish scent began to spread among the branches, carried by the almost imperceptible currents of the morning.
When he had finished, Varo withdrew into the shelter of a leaf and remained motionless.
The hours passed slowly. The sun climbed higher and higher, and the heat turned the air into a dense, trembling mass. Towards noon, the cries of the birds, the rustle of the huge leaves and the endless murmur of the insects that filled the jungle with their own music grew louder.
Then it appeared.
At first only a blue glint among the leaves. Then a coloured shadow. Finally, the creature came out of the filtered light of the treetops and began to fly lightly around the web.
Varo watched it without moving. The more closely he looked at it, the stranger it seemed. It had neither the usual haste of insects in search of food, nor the restlessness typical of creatures trying to avoid the dangers of the jungle. It moved with a calm confidence, stopping from time to time to examine the silk construction, as if memorising every detail and looking for weak points. Varo had the feeling that his own web, the masterpiece he had worked on for years, had become the object of study of an unknown intelligence.
But the scent of the paste was taking effect. The trajectory of its flight changed almost imperceptibly. The long-bodied creature came down a little. Slowly, almost inevitably, it drew close to the edge of the trap. When one of its wings touched the thread smeared with paste, the web shuddered. A few seconds of violent agitation followed. The creature struggled with astonishing energy. Its wings cut the air so fast that they produced blue and green reflections around its body. The threads vibrated menacingly, and the suspended construction pulsed like a living being.
Varo went on the attack. He advanced with the elegance and precision of a consummate predator, convinced that he was witnessing one of his many victories.
But something unexpected happened. When he reached the victim, it stopped struggling. Not gradually and not from exhaustion. But suddenly, in a way so perfect that it seemed life had left its body at that very instant.
The spider stopped.
Around him, the forest went on with its existence undisturbed, but a strange silence had settled between him and the insect caught in the web. The creature's huge eyes remained motionless; its legs hung limp, and its wings were spread in a rigid, unnaturally calm position. Everything pointed to the same thing: death. Varo approached cautiously and touched it with one of his front legs. Nothing. He felt his suspicions beginning to fade. Yet beyond this perfect stillness lay the real trap: his adversary was still awake. It had calculated every second, and every movement had been rehearsed countless times over an ancient, merciless evolution. While Varo contemplated what he believed was a helpless victim, the true predator was waiting for the moment when the trap it had set would close.
The spider slowly brought his fangs close to the motionless body and pierced its fine shell. But it was not the usual fluid of an insect that flowed from the wound. A strange taste flooded his senses. It was sweet as the nectar of flowers that bloom one night a year and bitter as the sap of old trees. A disturbing aroma that did not belong to the world he knew. He took another sip. Then the jungle began to come apart. First the edges of things disappeared and the branches melted into green shadows. Then the threads of the web turned into strings of stars suspended between sky and earth. The whole forest became a dream woven of light.
In the midst of this madness, the creature's body began to change. Its wings turned into shimmering veils, and its slender body took on familiar forms. The huge, cold eyes became gentle and warm. Before the spider appeared a female of his own species.
Varo remained motionless. His whole being had been struck by an emotion he had never known. All the mornings he had woken without seeing anyone like himself, and the nights he had listened to the tropical rain falling over the jungle. All of it had gathered into a hidden suffering he did not even know he carried. And now, the wound had been touched.
The female looked at him with sparkling eyes.
- Varo! she called to him in an ancient language that only those of their kind could understand.
The spider started. No one had ever spoken his name.
- Who are you? he asked in a trembling voice.
The female gave him a long look.
- I have been looking for you for a long time.
- Do you know me?
- Better than you know yourself.
Varo felt his world fill with light. Around them, the threads of the web vibrated like the strings of a harp.
- I thought I was the last, he whispered.
- You never were.
- Then where have you been until now?
The female came closer, stretching out her long, striped legs.
- I was searching for the way to you.
In reality, while these words were flooding Varo's mind, the creature's body was beginning to move very slowly. Almost imperceptibly. Its abdomen curved like a panther ready to pounce. But Varo saw nothing. For him there was only the female. Her seductive gaze and her sweet voice.
- This web is wonderful, she went on. I have never seen such a beautiful construction.
- I made it alone, Varo confided, turning his gaze towards the majesty of the sky. I worked on it for years.
- And now you want to share it with me?
- Yes!
In the enchanted world the spider saw, the female came gracefully down one of the silk bridges and looked at him with a tenderness that seemed to melt the whole jungle around them. Light began to gather on her body, like a golden mantle. She began to smile provocatively.
- I am free, she said softly, twirling on two legs.
The pirouette made the master of the construction salivate with pleasure. He felt desire take hold of his senses.
- You are no longer alone, he answered, opening his mandibles and letting a considerable amount of fluid slide out. The mating ritual began to unfold in the most natural way possible.
The female lightly touched one of his front legs. Varo took the gesture as a confirmation, and his male hormones began to surface.
In fact, the creature had completely freed its wings from the cut threads and was already on one of the walkways. Its huge eyes followed Varo's every movement with a cold attention, devoid of affection.
Soon the male's dance reached the point where the gift was due. In his hallucination, it seemed natural to him. The offering had to be truly impressive.
- Wait here, said Varo, stopping on two of his hind legs and raising his body into the light of the jungle. I want to bring you something.
- You don't have to, the female whispered unconvincingly.
- Yes, I do! Because you deserve the best I have.
- Then I will delight in whatever you offer me.
Varo sent a series of vibrations in rhythmic patterns through the threads of the web. At once, the wasp appeared from the lower levels. His faithful companion. For years she had flown through the forest, gathering pollen and nectar with which she had fed his dreams and made possible the scented paste with which he lured his victims. She approached without fear. She knew Varo and trusted him.
In the world the spider saw, the female looked at the newcomer with delight.
- What a wonderful creature, she said, moving her eyes provocatively.
- She is mine, said Varo proudly. And I want to give her to you.
The female slowly bowed her head and stretched out two legs towards the wasp. She began to sniff her and raise the hairs on her abdomen.
- You would give me such a precious treasure?
- Yes, the spider answered, enchanted by the female's posture. From now on she will serve you. She will bring you pollen and nectar. I will teach you to make the shining paste.
In truth, however, things happened differently. The dragonfly shot forward without hesitation or tender gestures. Its mandibles seized the faithful wasp's head before she understood what was happening. A single jerk, a short buzz, then silence.
Varo watched the scene and did not see death. He saw only the female receiving his gift with emotion. The creature devoured the wasp with precise movements, and as it fed it began to release a new substance into the air. An invisible, odourless superhormone. But infinitely more powerful than any scent Varo had ever made. If his paste was a whisper, this substance was a song that conquered minds. The female became even more beautiful. Her abdomen shone like molten gold. Every word she spoke seemed like music. Every glance a promise.
- Varo! Come to me.
The spider came closer.
- Closer!
Now they were touching.
In a few moments, the dragonfly climbed onto his body. Its thin legs fastened between the spider's joints, and the needle hidden under its abdomen unfolded completely.
Long, black and glossy. Like a splinter of night.
The spider started. In his world he felt a pleasant warmth.
- Are you all right? the female asked him.
- Yes!
- Are you happy?
- Happier than I have ever been.
In practice, the soft tissues inside his body were being slowly dissolved and turned into liquid food. The creature was in no hurry. True predators never are.
Varo's life was slowly draining into the creature's body. His legs were growing much heavier and his sight ever more blurred.
Soon, under the greenish light of the Amazon rainforest, the Great Varo lay motionless at the centre of his own creation, and on his back sat the true mistress, with her needle driven deep into his body.
When the last flickers of consciousness began to fade, Varo looked at the female he had fallen in love with. Strange! Suddenly, the edges of her body had begun to dissolve like mist lit by the sunrise. The voice that had until then been warm became an echo lost among the trees. A small, dark thought, like a seed carried by the wind, lodged itself in his mind.
"How does she know my name?"
The question appeared for an instant, then once more, stronger.
"How does she know my name?"
No one had ever spoken it to him. No creature in the jungle knew it. Not even the wasp. And yet this being had spoken his name from the very beginning.
At that moment, the illusion gave way.
The golden world cracked like a mirror struck by a stone. And the cracks spread in every direction. Then the sky vanished and the silver threads turned back into ordinary silk.
Now the female no longer existed, and Varo saw the truth: the remains of the wasp scattered over the threads, the dragonfly with those huge, dark, glossy eyes, bent over him. A predator feeding. He lowered his gaze and saw the needle driven deep into his abdomen. Around the wound, life was being slowly absorbed, like water disappearing into earth parched after a long drought. With the truth came the last revelation. He had not been defeated by the creature's power. But by his own desire to no longer be alone. Then, in those moments, sadness filled his soul. He looked towards the lower levels, where the store was. His treasure, gathered over years of work. He understood that there was no salvation left, but there could still be a choice. If he was going to die, then he did not want to do it alone.
All the energy left in his body gathered into a single point, and Varo threw himself into the void. The dragonfly understood the danger and tried to break free. But it was too late. The spider seized its needle in a terrible grip, and both of them fell through the levels of the web. The threads snapped like the strings of an instrument playing for the last time.
Below, the store was waiting for them. The protective leaf gave way and both of them crashed into the viscous paste, and the substance swallowed them. It wrapped them slowly, like amber that preserves for eternity the creatures caught in it. The dragonfly struggled with a desperation Varo had not suspected. But every attempt to free itself became a new chain. The spider kept holding on to it. With his last strength and the last beats of his heart.
Above them, the Amazon rainforest went on with its endless breathing, while the afternoon light came down through the foliage of the trees like the green columns of a cathedral raised by nature itself.
At the centre of the ruined web, in the golden tomb he had built without knowing it, the hunter and his predator now lay together. Varo's last thought was not about pain, nor about betrayal, nor even about death. But about the fact that his kingdom had not been conquered. And that, in the end, his web had caught the most dangerous victim of all.