by R C Gray
The spider leapt from the tree as it followed behind Faine, moving swiftly across the rough terrain, darting between trees and jumping over open areas to quickly catch up to the fleeing elf. Using its front legs, it slammed into Faine’s back, sending him sprawling onto the dew-soaked leaves. The impact of the fall nearly knocked the air out of his lungs, and he struggled to catch his breath as he rolled onto his back, pushing hard with his legs as he tried to escape.
The spider moved over Faine and raised its two front legs, exposing its sharp claws and piercing fangs. Reaching out his hands for anything that could be used as a weapon, he gripped a fist-sized stone in his right hand and threw it as hard as he could manage from his position. The jagged edges of the stone struck the spider above its fangs, directly in one of its dark, glassy eyes, popping it with a sickening, wet sound as liquid fell out onto Faine’s face.
The spider let out a high-pitched screech and stepped backwards, its legs stomping at the ground. Faine pushed himself back to move out of the way, trying to put some distance between himself and the great beast in front of him; but the spider was already moving forward, its fangs glistening with thick, dark liquid as it stalked closer.
Faine let out a scream and raised his arms over his face as the spider reared back, preparing to sink its fangs into the flailing elf on the ground in front of it. Just as the spider moved to strike, Skara stepped in front of the massive creature, slamming a sturdy branch onto the creature’s head, driving it backwards and away from Faine.
“Get up!” Skara said, quickly pulling a dagger from his belt and letting it fall onto the ground behind him.
Grabbing the dagger, Faine jumped to his feet behind Skara, slashing at the creature’s legs as it thrashed wildly to keep the two at bay. Raising the large stick above his head, Skara swung down hard at the creature’s eyes, landing a solid blow to one of the spider’s legs as it scurried sideways, moving its head out of reach. With a faint snapping sound, the lower segment of the long, left front leg broke in half, causing the beast to shriek and go into a frenzy.
Flinging its legs madly and striking out with its fangs, the creature rushed forward, pushing them back as they stumbled over downed branches and rocks. Catching his right foot on a wet log behind him, Skara slid, nearly falling as he lost his balance. Seizing the moment of opportunity, the spider lunged forward, knocking Faine to the side with one of its scurrying legs while its needle-like fangs darted down at Skara as he stumbled. Still not entirely on his feet, Skara raised his left arm to shield his body just as the sharp, poisonous fangs crashed into him, tearing two bloody slits into his left forearm and filling his blood with poison.
Skara screamed and pulled his injured arm close to his body as he swung the club with his right arm, fighting desperately to fend off the attacking fangs. Rushing in from behind the beast, Faine drove his blade deep into the top of its abdomen, pulling and sawing as he cut jagged gashes in its flesh. The spider wheeled and turned away from Skara, knocking him over with its bulbous abdomen as it turned its attention fully at the elf, dark blood dripping heavily from its open wounds. Stepping back slowly, Faine slashed out with his blade, keeping distance between himself and the creature’s rearing fangs.
Skara felt a wave of sickness as pain shot through his arm, spreading quickly into his shoulder and chest as he lurched to his feet and staggered towards the distracted spider. Pulling the straight-bladed dagger from its sheath on the back of his belt, he moved quickly to the spider’s side and darted between its stamping legs, hacking down at the narrow piece of flesh connecting the abdomen to the thorax.
The blade struck hard against the pedicel, cutting a deep wound into the soft flesh behind the armored exoskeleton on its thorax. Chopping down again and again in quick, hard strikes, the thin blade cut deeper each time before falling from Skara’s grasp as he dropped to his knees, his chest tight as he gasped for breath. The forest spun around him as he crawled away from the spider, bile climbing up his throat as his stomach tightened and waves of pain wracked his body.
The spider shrieked as it jerked from side to side and flailed its legs, crouching low as it prepared to jump onto the branches of a nearby tree. Springing forward, its body twisted unnaturally, the weight of its bulbous abdomen pulling hard on the tattered strands of soft tissue barely holding the creature together. Thick blood splattered across the bright leaves that littered the ground as its abdomen tore away from its thorax, falling with a sickening thump as its upper body flew through the air, its legs slightly twitching as it crashed into the ground twenty paces away.
Skara collapsed onto the ground, his arm clutched tight to his chest. His left arm was bleeding, and black, viscous poison was caked around his wounds. His right arm shook as he reached for the pouches at the back of his belt.
Dropping the dagger, Faine ran over, kneeling next to Skara. “What do I do?” he said, his hands shaking as he held Skara’s arm and looked at the deep cuts.
“In my pouch,” Skara said, leaning over so that Faine could open them. “Bottles of antidote wrapped in cloth.”
Faine reached into the pouches and pulled out several small bundles of cloth, each wet and filled with broken glass.
“Shit, they’re broken! You must have landed on them.” Thinking quickly, Faine put the bundles of wet cloth together and held them over Skara’s mouth. “Open your mouth.”
Skara stared off into treetops above him, his eyes beginning to glaze over as a soft, white froth began to gather at the corners of his mouth.
“Nai’eteln!” Faine said, cursing as he grabbed Skara’s face, leaned his head back, and squeezed his cheeks to open his mouth. Holding the rags, he squeezed as hard as he could, pressing the liquid-soaked cloth onto Skara’s tongue. Feeling the bits of glass breaking and grinding together beneath his grip, he squeezed harder and shook his hand up and down to press every drop he could get out of the fabric.
Skara coughed and took a breath as his body began to tremble slightly. He turned his eyes to look at Faine. “I need to get to a healer. That bit-” he coughed, his body shuddering as his muscles began to stiffen and contract. His fingers curled into his palms as he closed his eyes and gritted his teeth. “Need more antidote.”
“Shit! Hold on. I know where to go.”
Faine looked at the forest around him. Diffused rays of sunlight shone through a thin veil of grey clouds spreading across the sky, causing the shadows to dance on the ground around him. The spider sat broken and silent in the distance, its body in two sections with a trail of dark blood and entrails strewn on the forest floor between them. Running his hands roughly through his hair, he stood and ran over to retrieve one of Skara’s daggers and slid it back into its sheath, hoping he wouldn’t run into any more spiders. Gritting his teeth, he knelt next to Skara and grabbed his right arm, sat him up and hoisted him onto his shoulders.
“Just hold on! We’re about a mile away, but I’ll get you some help...I’ll get you there,” Faine said, moving through the forest as fast as he could, sweat beading on his forehead as he ran; his breath just as ragged as Skara’s.
A Chance Meeting
Faine’s breath was sharp in his chest, and his legs burned as he stumbled up to a cabin hidden by a small copse of maple trees surrounded by a loose circle of sycamores. The shelter was made from small logs and clay and had a straw roof with a small stream of smoke rising out of a hole on one side. Several wooden framed windows lined the walls, and a small door made from long branches was left standing open, letting the morning breeze flow into the hut.
“Renna!” Faine said, falling to the ground, letting Skara hit harder than he would have liked. “Renna, get out here and help me!”
A woman appeared in the doorway, wiping her hands on a dark brown apron hanging over a light brown dress with small holes and tears near the bottom. Her dark brown hair held several braids pulled behind her pointed ears, while the rest hung loosely over her shoulders. Her skin was a pale green, and small tusks protruded f
rom under her bottom lip, reaching just slightly over the top of her upper lip. Her smile quickly turned into a look of worry as she dropped her apron and rushed out of the cottage towards Faine.
“Gods, Faine. What happened? Are you alright?” Renna said, her face contorted with worry.
“I’m fine. But Skara was poisoned by a spider. He took a little antidote, but I don’t think it was enough. His body is stiff. I think his whole body is cramping.”
“Help me get him into the house,” Renna said, grabbing Skara by the arm and picking him up most of the way off the ground before Faine could stand to help her.
As the two reached the cottage, the pair moved Skara to the bed and gently placed him on his back. The cottage walls were covered with furs and wool blankets to help shelter it from the cold drafts that came in during the night, and small bookshelves were placed in front of the pelts, each filled with books of varying sizes. The dirt floor was packed smooth, and a stone hearth stood against the back wall, a crackling fire burning inside. On the opposite wall stood a long table covered in books and scrolls. A pestle and mortar sat near the end of the table, surrounded by several vials filled with darkly colored liquids. Bundles of dried plants hung from the ceiling and made the air smell of green herbs and spicy barks and roots.
Renna quickly rummaged through her herbs and vials and began to pour a dark, acrid liquid into a wooden bowl, tossing several handfuls of herbs and strips of cloth inside, swirling it together with a wooden spoon. Taking down a bottle filled with a dull yellow liquid from a shelf above the table, she uncorked it and poured a small amount into a nearby silver tankard. Picking off several serrated leaves from the bunches that hung from her ceiling, she ground them up, brushed them into the cup, and added in a bit of water and honey before stirring it together and bringing it to the bed.
“Skara, can you hear me? I need you to drink this. It won’t taste good, and it will make your stomach roll, but it will help to neutralize the poison,” Renna said, her voice calm and low.
Skara raised his head slightly and opened his mouth to drink the mixture. It smelled faintly of mint but had a bitter taste that puckered his mouth and burned his throat as he swallowed it. Although his body was tense, he was starting to feel movement in his limbs as his muscles began to relax. He knew that what little antidote he had used would have kept him from death, but it wasn’t enough to save him from being paralyzed and deathly sick for several long hours. He would have survived, but he was sure there would have been times in his sickness that death would have been a welcomed release from the agony; so he was willing to take any help that could spare him the pain he would have felt without it.
Renna handed the cup to Faine, and he held it to his nose to smell it before drinking the remainder of the liquid. “Just to be safe.” He set the cup on the table and looked over at Renna. “What now?”
“Take the wrapping off his arm. I need to get to the wounds.”
Faine began to undo the black wrapping on Skara’s arm, tossing it onto the floor and kicking it under the bed when he was finished. Behind him, Renna looked on the shelves beneath the large table that held her vials and pulled out a pot and a jug of water. Hanging the pot over the fire, she filled it with water and swung it over the flames to bring it to a boil. Grabbing a bottle of strong, clear alcohol from a nearby bookshelf, she moved over to Skara and pulled his arm so that it hung off the side of the bed.
“Hold him down,” Renna said, looking at Faine. “This isn’t going to be very pleasant for him.”
Faine reached his hand out for the bottle of alcohol that Renna held, and she handed it to him with a bit of reluctance. Grabbing the bottle, he took a long drink before handing it back to Renna. He then moved his body over the top of Skara’s to hold down his arms and chest and to try to keep him from flailing. “Sorry about this, but it has to be done.”
Renna examined the two cuts down Skara’s arm before moving over to the fire to check the pot of water. The water simmered as she dipped in a strip of clean cloth, pulling it out when it was fully saturated. It steamed as she held it in her left hand and picked up the bottle of alcohol with her right.
Getting a firm grip on Skara’s arm, she held in place under her left bicep and began pouring the clear alcohol over his arm and scrubbing with the clean cloth. Skara winced and tried to pull back his arm, but his sore muscles and the weight of Faine on top of him held him in place. He grunted in pain, and his breath came in quick gasps as she poured the alcohol onto his skin, burning and stinging his wound before harshly scrubbing at the open cuts.
Blood began to pour from the gashes in his arm as Renna pushed the flesh around his wounds open, cleaning deeper inside the wounds, trying to get out as much of the poison as she could.
“The poison has crusted and dried in your skin. I have to clean it all out, or the wounds will get infected,” Renna said, pouring more alcohol onto his arm.
Skara tried to pull his arm back, but between the pain from the cleaning and the poison, the world around him faded to black, and he fell into unconsciousness. Renna felt his muscles go limp and glanced up to see if he was still breathing. Hearing the quiet hiss of his breath, she quickly finished cleaning he cuts before sitting back onto the floor.
“That should do,” Renna said, slightly exhausted from the ordeal. “He shouldn’t have to worry about infection, but I still have to try to close the wounds. Do you mind?”
Faine grimaced and released his grip on Skara. He never liked this spell and wasn’t thrilled about Renna using it on him. It was good for healing light wounds, but it required someone else’s energy to do it.
Sitting up, he held out his hand to Renna, and she took it in her own. Placing her other hand over Skara’s injured arm, she began to mutter something under her breath that Faine couldn’t make out. He felt Renna’s grip tighten on his fingers as his head began to swim. His arms and legs went briefly numb, and he felt as if he had just been beaten and left for dead in the streets. He was already exhausted from running through the forest, so the excess drain of his energy made him feel as if he was about to faint, but the feeling passed quickly, and Renna released her grip on his hand. Faine could see that the wounds on Skara’s arm had almost been fully closed as Renna held her palm over his arm. Shaking his head groggily, he took a seat near the fire to rest.
“I’m getting better. His wounds are almost fully healed,” Renna said, getting to her feet as she grabbed the poultice she had made and wrapped Skara’s arm to protect it from infection. Grabbing two cups from the shelf, she filled them with dried herbs and poured hot water from the simmering pot into them. She handed one to Faine and took a seat next to him, holding the cup to her nose, smelling the herbal tea as it steeped.
“So, what happened?”
Faine stared into the fire and took a slow drink of his tea, grimacing as the hot water burned his lips. “I got lost in the woods and ended up somewhere I didn’t want to be.”
“And how did you come across Skara?” she said, looking at Faine and leaning back on her plain wooden chair.
Taking another drink of his tea, Faine held his hands out closer to the fire, warming them as he told Renna about what had happened and how Skara had saved him twice.
“Sounds like something was watching out for you,” Renna said, raising her eyebrows.
Faine let out a small grunt. “Yeah, Skara. He saved my life. I was stupid enough to let myself get riled up and almost got myself killed. If he hadn’t cut me out of that web or fought off that spider, I’d be soup by now. Without him, I don’t think I would have made it back.”
Renna tapped a finger against one of her small tusks as she looked into the fire. “And does he know about why we’re here? You tend to ramble sometimes.”
“No. Why would I tell him anything? We talked a bit in the woods, but mostly we just walked. Then we were ambushed and ended up here. He doesn’t know anything. But,” Faine said, glancing up at Renna, “he’s pretty handy in a fight and seem
s to know his way around antidotes. Maybe even thieving. He didn’t say too much about it, but he has to have a place to get information or sell what he finds on the bodies in the cave. And he also sells the webbing he takes from the cave—so he might know merchants or a fence in the area. We should talk to him a bit more when he wakes up.”
“Maybe,” Renna said. “But you don’t know anything about him.”
“I know he came back to save me when he could have kept running after we were attacked...or just left me in the cave. But he didn’t. He came back, and that tells me something.”
Renna nodded. “And if he’s not interested?”
“I think he will be. Who doesn’t like a good adventure now and then? Besides, I know he likes treasure and coin. Why else would he risk his life in the caves?”
The two sat in silence and drank their tea for some time. Skara had awoken shortly after they had sat down but kept his eyes closed and stayed still, listening to what they had to say. From what he could gather, the pair were looking for something or some kind of treasure. Maybe that’s why the elf was out in the woods last night, he thought. But who looks for a treasure in the woods at night...when they’re drunk? He could smell the alcohol on the elf when he cut him out of the web.
Thoughts rolled around in his head about whether or not he could trust the two that had just helped to heal his wounds and fend off infection. If he had fought the spider alone, or been left paralyzed in the woods, something could have gotten to him before he was able to move and make it home; so, now he had been saved twice. Sighing lightly, he put the thoughts out of his head as drifted back to sleep and let his body heal.
Skara awoke later that evening to the feeling of something crawling up his chest. He blinked his eyes wearily and looked down, careful to move slowly in case it was something that would strike at sudden movements.
Sitting on his chest was a small red squirrel. The tufts on its ears were frazzled and sparse, and its one eye was clouded over as if the creature was blind. Bits of bone and torn muscle could be seen beneath its tattered skin, and almost half of its skull and teeth were visible on its head. Its tail, mostly bone, was barely held together with bits of flesh and even less fur. It let out a slight squeaking noise as it moved closer to his face.