by Atlas Kane
A few minutes in, Ketzal stepped on what turned out to be a web covered in fine gravel. She fell, crying out as she did so, and began sliding straight toward a gaping hole at the bottom of a pit lined with loose rock. She scrambled her arms out, trying to slow her fall, and eventually, she stopped. The web torn free, Cade and Gemma had no trouble seeing the clever trap. If Ketzal moved to try to escape, she would only cause the gravel to spill down toward the hole. Normally, Cade imagined a spider would be ready for her below. Now, however, there might just be a nasty fall.
“Don’t move, Ketzal. Just freeze,” he said, and though her hands trembled with fright, the demoness ceased all struggle.
Cade summoned a length of cordage he’d packed in case there was need of rope. He was pleased he’d done so for this moment alone.
He gave one side to Gemma. “Here, wrap this around your waist and brace yourself.”
The tigress did so, even lying on the ground and finding solid footing to hold her in place. Gemma was a solid companion, and he was pleased she was with them.
“Okay, Ketzal, I’m gonna help you climb out. Just grab the cordage when it comes to you, and hold on like your life depends on it,” he said with a smirk.
“Not helpful. I’m ready though. Do it.”
He tossed the makeshift rope, and it landed a few feet away from her. “Damn, hold on. I’ll try again.” As he withdrew the lifeline, it caused more of the gravel to shift, and the demoness slid another two feet toward the yawning hole.
Shaking his head, he concentrated, then tossed the rope once more. This time, it landed close enough for her to grip it. Ketzal wisely wound her hands around it several times, binding herself in place. The movement forced the trap into motion once more, but the rope held her in place. As Cade and Gemma worked to hoist her up the incline, the sand and rock tumbled away from the trap. It was effective if simple, and once more he thought of how keen the spiders’ intelligence was.
When she reached the edge, Cade wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her out.
She lay on his chest a moment, still trembling, and he gave her a minute to gather herself. If it had been him, he would have been shaken as well.
They took a break afterward, just enough for water, but it was needed. Plunging into a dark and eerily glowing spider warren wasn’t something any of them had trained for. When they set out again, they were more careful, eyes scanning the floor for any more false floors.
The tunnel leveled off at last, and the great passage turned to the right. They followed it until Cade realized the direction had shifted, and now they were turning inward. In his head, he envisioned the layout of the lair. They were winding inward along a huge coil. The center, he guessed, would be their destination.
Their progress was uninterrupted for another long hour until a humming noise began to come from the walls around them. It was so faint and gradual that Cade thought he was imagining it for some time. Then suddenly the humming became a buzz, and from out of small gaps in the stone around them, dozens of insects swarmed.
The little creatures were hard to make out because they moved so swiftly, but he thought they might be some sort of beetle. Each was perhaps a foot long, and though the first of the things died easily as their guide stabbed it through its back, the sheer numbers of the insects was frightening.
In a matter of seconds, ten of the creatures were swarming over Cade’s body, their tiny mouths taking bites anytime they came to exposed flesh. He thrashed around, trying to get his axe off of his back. Ketzal was lashing out with her whip. Each time it cracked, it sent out a small shockwave, splintering three or four of them at once. Gemma tried to shoot a few with her arrows, but when they swarmed up her legs and around her torso, she burst into flames and incinerated a dozen of them at once.
The swarm intensified, and Cade felt his body being weighed down by scores of the heavy little beasts. He yelped, one of the bugs tearing a chunk of skin from his neck. A panic began to well up inside of him.
Suddenly, Gemma’s tiger paws flashed all around him, striking the insects from his body, scorching them with her talons. In a matter of seconds, she’d given him enough space to recover and focus on the odd fight around them.
Gamlum was an impressive sight, stabbing out with his spear, loading the pole with skewered beetle bodies. He was so agile that few of them reached the lockman.
Finally, Cade freed his axe and blasted the hole in the ground where most of the beetles were coming from. The Explosive Shot penetrated the rock and burst within. Dozens of the beetles died immediately, and the swarm petered out.
Still, it took another five minutes until all of the insects were dead. Everyone was bleeding from countless bites, and they looked a mess. Cade knew he owed Gemma. He might not have perished, not while his companions stood beside him, but he’d been caught without a suitable weapon for the fight, and for some reason, the insects had focused on him.
He walked over to the tigress, and placed a hand on her shoulder. Her brow creased, as if confused by his touch, then looked at where he was touching her.
Removing his hand to be safe, he said simply, “Thank you, Gemma. I am happy that you came. You saved me from getting bitten a lot more than I wanted to. I owe you one.”
“You owe me nothing, Cade,” she said, her orange eyes meeting his. “Not only did I burn you with my fire when you were only trying to help, but I remember when you came. You and Ketzal and the others, you all came to help me.”
“Well, maybe we’re even then.”
The woman stubbornly shook her head. “Not yet. I do not think we are even yet, but maybe soon.”
They each ate a handful of Minda’s herbal mix, saving the rest of the Health Tinctures for when they might be needed more. Even when they were healed up and all the bugs dead or fled, Cade imagined he could feel their countless tiny legs walking all over him.
He was about to remark how terrible that had been when he looked down to see Gamlum crunching on one of the beetles. The rest he’d pulled off of his long spear, but one remained. And now the lockman turned his spear slowly, taking casual bites.
Cade shook his head. Why shouldn’t the beetles be food for some people? The spiders must have feasted on the things. But he would forgo the experiment personally. Then he heard Gemma moan beside him, and he looked to see her chewing as well. “These are very good eating,” she said, a dribble of inky insect blood dripping from her chin. “Here, you try.”
He backed up, hands out and apologetic. “No, I’m super full still, thank you.”
“Ha! You are never full. Eat, Cade. Do not be shy.”
Ketzal came to the rescue at the last minute, fabricating a half lie. “Cade’s Chimera Lord class doesn’t allow eating insects. We aren’t sure why, but he just can’t. I’ll take one though, thank you.”
Grateful as he was, Cade had to walk a few feet away, trying to ignore the chitinous crunching behind him. Gemma and Ketzal only had one of the big bugs eaten before getting full, but Gamlum ate four, an impressive feat given how big the insects were and how little the lockman was.
It had been hours since they’d entered the caves, and their short break was well-earned and necessary. They were considering going on further when Gemma spoke up. “On my world, we have creatures like these.” She gestured to the pile of dead bugs at their feet. “They are most useful. Their blood is not only sweet, but it glows as well. We use it to write messages on rock formations so that other hunters know we have been there. The blood doesn’t fade for a week, so you can also tell how long it has been since a hunter wrote the message.”
Ketzal turned to her, a look of keen interest in her eyes. “That is amazing. Tell us something more. Did you have a child where you came from? A lover?”
Gemma stared down as if in shame. She shook her head, the metallic strands of her hair shaking noisily. “No child. Only a little sister. If she survived, she will become a great hunter like me. And yes, I did have a man. His name was Flenmar. We
were given to each other since childhood. But we never…”
“You never… joined with him,” Ketzal said cleverly.
“No. To have a child is to add a great burden on the clan. There is only so much food. Each woman typically will have three or four husbands if she is from a noble family. I was to join with Flenmar and two other men of his choosing. But I died before I experienced such an honor.”
Cade’s eyes almost fell out of his head. Clearing his throat, he asked as respectfully as he could, “So you would have had three husbands. And each would… help you bear children?”
The tigress hissed, her shoulders bunching around her shoulders. “Never! Only a given husband lays with his wife. The other husbands help hunt and provide for the children.”
He apologized, realizing he’d hit on a sensitive subject. Ketzal giggled softly, and added, “You know, Cade, demons most definitely have three or more husbands or wives, and that is just the way things are. Sex is not such a sacred thing, I think, as it seems to be on your world. I hope that idea does not offend you.”
Cade tried not to blush. His efforts were unsuccessful, but he managed to reply truthfully. “What you did in your previous life is your own business, Ketzal. I’m sure there are things done on Earth that are strange or offensive to you as well.”
“Politics,” Ketzal said plainly.
“What?”
She smiled, running a hand over his cheek. “Politics are both strange and offensive. We demons observe Earth. It is a source of enlightenment and entertainment. Some even seek to manipulate your lives. Of all that I’ve seen done by Terran humans, politics is by far the most revolting.”
Cade laughed. “Well, I won’t argue with that. What do you think? Should we get going again?”
The party crept further and further in, the circling tunnel growing tighter with each pass. Each held their weapons at the ready, listening intently for any buzzing. Another swarm of insects might not be the most dangerous thing they could encounter down here, but it was by far the least pleasant Cade could imagine.
Considering the angle of the curve, Cade guessed they would make it to the central chamber within another fifteen or twenty minutes. He was going to ask Ketzal and Gemma if they agreed when another sound drifted from the tunnel beyond.
It was subtle yet pervasive, a sound so all-encompassing he discovered they must have been listening to it for some time before noticing. It was a low rumble, almost like stone grinding in a cavern miles ahead. But then a shift in the tone alerted him to its presence. The group stopped and exchanged looks. They’d all heard it.
For a while they listened, only registering the most minute shifts in tone. After a time, they marched onward. The deeper they went, the more insistent the noise was.
Finally, Cade could make out distinct words, though what tongue they were in remained a mystery. A thrumming voice of epic proportions was singing somewhere ahead in the tunnel. As they got closer, another fact became certain. Not only was the song coming from an enormous set of vocal cords, but whoever sung contentedly was entirely tone deaf.
This is getting better by the minute, Cade thought. Not only are we going to face a giant monster capable of defeating an army of spiderkin, but we will have to listen to it warble like a drunken bird. Just my luck.
17
A Titanic Tantrum
The vast tunnel didn’t do them any favors. It swelled and contracted, the variations in its size and shape becoming more extreme as they get closer to the center. This not only made traversing the ground difficult, but it played tricks with the queer song that continued to mess with Cade’s mind.
At times, it sounded like a giant baby babbling to itself just before sleep, and at others like a choir of voices led in divine inspiration. The effect was unsettling.
He wasn’t the only one who felt this way. Gamlum held his spear up over his shoulder, as if ready to hurl the weapon into the eye of a titan. Gemma’s bow was in her hands, its energy string buzzing softly as they went. Ketzal held her whip curled in her hand. When she wasn’t using it, it seemed like an odd mesh rope, the silver metal of the soul weapon distinct. Yet he knew that should she flick it out, it would ignite with a blaring yellow light. It was truly an awesome weapon. A little like a whip’s version of a laser sword.
The tunnel collapsed on itself once more, tapering to only thirty feet high, and the glowing material on the walls burned vibrantly. Then as they passed through, a truly enormous cavern was exposed. The strangest part was the lighting. Not only the glow of the cave slime, but daylight as well, though faint and faded.
It was big enough to host a professional football game with room for the stands as well. All around were thousands of mud lumps, almost like earthen eyes staring blindly.
Cade gawked at the sheer scale of the cavern, and all along the walls peered the empty sockets of countless tunnels. This was the heart of the nest, its epicenter. This was where all the spiders came to pay homage to their great queen. She was absent, of course, but curled up on her throne of rubble and bone, a vast creature was resting.
Far above, a long and angular crack scored through the mountaintop, the chink in the top of the skull, Cade imagined as he recalled the leering face they’d walked through to get here. It allowed a beam of burnished bronze light fall on the creature, late afternoon by the looks of it. They’d been tunneling for four or more hours, and at last, here was the monster who they sought.
The group halted, peering in wonder at the beast who’d single-handedly defeated the spiders. It was twenty feet tall at least, and its furry body curled around itself, fifty feet or longer. Yet its features remained indistinct. Only a mass of silver and amber fur, striped like a viper, shone in the fading light like polished metal.
Cade looked to Ketzal, all too aware that their village had relied upon her skill too often of late. But if anyone could break through and communicate with this creature, it was her. In a soft voice, just above a whisper, Cade asked her, “Speak with it, Ketzal. Ask it what it wants, and if it might go.”
The demoness nodded, fear and courage in her eyes, but her verbal response was interrupted by a booming voice as eloquent and bladed as Vormer’s. “Speak with me yourself, manling. Or is it your custom to have others do what you are too afraid to do for yourself?”
Looking to his party members in shock, Cade mentally reached down and grabbed a handful. He stepped forward formally and answered the insulting question. “Not at all. I am just surprised you speak my tongue. I did not mean to offend.”
“Did not mean to offend me yet doubts I can speak a proper language. I have mastered five hundred tongues in the three thousand years I’ve been alive. I was here for Antinium’s birth, and I will watch it burn into embers when all is lost. So I believe I am offended. And what of your second question. Don’t you mean to ask me if I might go?” Its speech ended with a mockery of Cade’s voice, which compared to the giant, sounded weak and hollow.
With no other avenue to pursue the matter, Cade chose honesty. “We are on a quest to rid the plague that has fallen on the spiders’ lair. I am assuming you are that plague, though we are all in shock to see how fair you are to look upon.”
An odd chuffing sound erupted from the creature, its bulk contorting. When it ceased laughing, the creature continued. “Flattery suits you well, manling. We may yet have a friendship to strike. But I will not go. For that I won’t even apologize. There is food here to last me a century at least. May I tell you a riddle?”
“You may. Might I have your name, divine one?” he asked boldly.
More chuffing laughter. “Do not press your luck. Too much silver on the tongue will make a man choke, or so I’ve heard. You may have my name if you guess my riddle. Deal?”
Cade sighed. This was not going to be easy at any point. “Deal.”
“What is round and plump, with many legs that will not crawl, and eyes that cannot see? A sleeping babe to some, an endless feast for me?”
The
creature finished and its grand voice echoed throughout the chamber like a fading drum. Cade searched his mind, then felt a tap on his arm. Gemma pointed to the mud lumps that clustered all around the chamber. No shit! he thought. We are in the center of a nest. And all around us are thousands of eggs. This creeper is gonna eat all of them?
Clearing his throat, Cade answered. “The spider eggs all around you. You are here to dine on their offspring for a century.”
In a whirl of motion, the beast unfurled itself. Not a curled ball of fur, but an enormous animal that looked like a coyote or a fox. Its eyes burned copper in the dim light, and its teeth flashed. The beast was smiling, and though it wore a figure similar to a canine, it was undoubtedly ancient and divine. Cade thought of an Egyptian carving, its ears were long and angular, almost like a cat’s. Yet it had the narrow snout of a coyote.
“Well done, manling! I will tell you my name, though I am still quite certain I shall not leave for any amount of begging. You may call me Yotri.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Yotri. My name is Cade. We’ve—”
The fox beast cut Cade off mid-sentence with a hiss then fell into a tirade of words. “Manling, do not think I’ll learn your name. You will live and die before I fall asleep again, and those that follow will pass before I wake. If you have a riddle or a game for me, I will entertain you further, otherwise leave the way you came. I would eat you, but you are all so tiny, and I can smell your god steel from here. It has no flavor at all and is absolutely indigestible.”
Cade had no idea what to do next. Riddles were not his thing. If it hadn’t been for Gemma, they wouldn’t have made it this far. Yet the definition of the word game was where he might decide to place his money. “Yotri, I do not have a game, and I do not have a riddle for you, but if you are bold enough, I might have a challenge.”