Extra arms

Taylor did none of those things. Instead, in a clear, decisive tone, she uttered something that sounded like a command.

“Argaleiós Arákhnēs.”

Immediately, the bands around her waist unfurled like the petals of a flower into four long, gangly appendages. They were ungainly and spider-like, with too many joints and too narrow segments that should have collapsed and bent under their own weight. Then the sharpened tips split into five — fuck, those were fingers. That meant that those long, gangly appendages…they were extra arms.

“The fuck?” Lisa gasped, voicing Amy’s thoughts.

Taylor’s lips quirked up on one side. “It’s not that surprising, is it? I mean, there’s only so many legendary weavers and seamstresses out there, you know.”

Lisa’s brow furrowed. “Wait. A legendary seamstress? Does that mean…?”