Sadira was apparently the last to awaken and see the spiders. She screeched once, then called, “Where’d these come from?”
Agis did not answer, for he was still trying to catch a glimpse of the halflings. Unfortunately, it appeared that would be difficult. He did not see so much as a branch waving in their wake. The only sign that they had even been near the group’s camp was the spider they had attacked, which had climbed into its web and was chirping angrily. The other spiders relaxed and began to rub their legs together in lively, spirited songs.
Rikus was the first to reach the noble’s side. “What’s all the noise about, Agis?” the mul demanded, his bone twin-axe in one hand and his satchel in the other. “You’re not scared of a little spider, are you?” He gestured at a nearby tent, where the spider had already dropped back to the ground on its silk cord.
“The spiders and I get along well enough, especially since I like to sleep dry,” Agis answered, holding one hand palm-up in the icy rain now soaking him. “I scared away a pair of halflings.”
“Halflings?” Neeva asked, stepping to their sides.
Before Agis could answer, Sadira joined them, her satchel already slung on her back and Ktandeo’s cane in one hand. She was using her free hand to brush her shoulders and hair.
“You can stop preening,” Neeva said. “After a few minutes in this drizzle, you’re going to look as bad as the rest of us.”
Sadira regarded the others with an air of disaste. “I can live with that, I suppose. You don’t see any webs on me, do you?” she asked. “I can’t stand webs.”
Neeva rolled her eyes, but turned the half-elf so she could inspect the sorceress’s shoulders. “No webs.”
“Good,” Sadira answered, breathing a sigh of relief. “Now, what’s this about halflings?”
“They were over here,” Agis said. “I scared them off, but maybe we can coax them back out.”
“Halflings are too skittish for that,” Rikus grunted. “Anzeka would have a better—”
The mul was interrupted by another spider’s screech, this time from where Agis had been sleeping. He turned and saw Anezka beneath his silken canopy, wrestling with Singer.
“Anezka, no!” Agis shouted, rushing toward the small woman.
He was too late. She lifted the steel dagger he had given her, then plunged it into the spider’s abdomen. Singer stopped struggling, but continued to rub its legs together in plaintive, agonized tones.
As Agis approached, he saw that the spider lay on its back. Anezka sat astride its thorax, having opened a long gash in its abdomen. Pushing at the halfling with the four legs closest to her, Singer weakly struggled with its attacker and chirped out its agony.
Anzeka plunged her arm into the slash she had opened in the spider’s abdomen. She felt around for a moment, then gave a quick jerk and pulled out a handful of froth-covered eggs. Singer’s legs moved more frantically, filling the air with a loud howl. The other spiders responded with sad melodies.
Agis grabbed the halfling by the shoulders. “What are you doing?”
Anezka’s arms were covered with green slime from the spider’s abdomen. She scowled at him and, by way of explanation, began to eat the eggs.
This was more than the noble could stand. He grabbed the halfling and threw her to the ground as far away as his strength allowed, paying no attention to where she landed. Next, he turned to the spider, which was now chirping a pained lyric. Intending to put Singer out of its misery, he unsheathed his sword—but found he had no idea how to kill the spider quickly and painlessly.
“Agis, your back!” cried Rikus.
The noble spun around and saw Anezka raising her dagger to throw at him. Rikus leaped to the halfling’s side and slapped her arm as she released the weapon. The knife plunged into the ground at Agis’s feet.
The noble looked from the dagger to Rikus. “Thank you.”
“I’m only paying you back for what you did at the cliffs. Now we’re even,” the mul answered gruffly. At the same time, he grabbed the halfling to prevent her from making another attack. She growled incoherently and struggled against Rikus’s grip.
“It’s not very smart to throw our guide around like that,” Neeva said, fixing her green eyes on Agis’s face. “What are you so upset about, anyway? It was just a spider.”
“Spiders or not, these are friendly creatures,” Agis said, gesturing at the canopies over their heads. “It would have been just as easy for them to string their webs someplace else, and then we would have had a wet, cold night.”
“I suppose so,” Sadira said, joining them. “But we don’t need any more hard feelings in the group right now. If Anezka wants to eat a spider, let her. After all, it’s her forest.”
Once again, Agis was reminded of the differences between himself and his four companions. The gladiators had spent their lives fighting for the amusement of others, so to them the spider’s agony must have seemed a small matter. No doubt, even Sadira had seen—or even suffered—much worse on Tithian’s estate. It was no wonder that they regarded the beast’s pain with indifference, whereas the noble, who had purposely shielded himself from such unpleasantness, regarded it with horror and revulsion.
Even considering the differences in their backgrounds, Agis was outraged at the halfling’s cruelty. Having someone in his company behave so callously made him feel as he thought Tithian must, simply doing what was necessary to survive. If he was going to risk life, property, and name, the noble was determined to do so in the cause of principle, not practicality.
“I don’t care if Anezka is our guide,” he said. “I won’t stand for needless torture, by her or anyone else.”
“If it will make you happy, ask her to kill her breakfast before she eats it, but don’t start a fight over it,” Neeva said. She pointed at the center of Singer’s body. “Now, if you want to put this spider out of its pain, strike there—deeply.”
Agis did as she suggested. As his sword plunged through the spider’s body, its legs stopped writhing and it died quickly. “Thanks,” he said, cleaning his blade on the groundcloud. “How did you know where I should strike?”
“We’ve often fought giant spiders of one sort or another in the arena,” she explained, turning toward where she had left her satchel. “Let’s get on with our journey.”
Agis picked up the dagger Anezka had thrown at him, then went to where Rikus held the halfling. “In my company, I’d appreciate it if you’d be more selective about what you eat and how,” he said to the small woman.
Rikus shook his head in derision. “Only a noble would be soft enough to worry about eating a spider.”
“Perhaps,” Agis replied, not taking his eyes from Anezka. “But I’m serious about what I say.”
The noble put the halfling’s dagger in his satchel. He had intended to return it to Anezka as a sign of good faith. From the way she had stared at him, however, he knew the halfling would only have used it to attack him the first time his back was turned.
After Agis slipped his satchel onto his shoulder, Rikus released the halfling. Anezka angrily gathered her things, then led the party down the crest of the ridge, moving through the forest as effortlessly and as silently as though she were walking on barren, level ground. Behind her, Rikus and Neeva crashed through the trees with all the grace of a matched pair of boulders tumbling down the hillside. Sadira followed the gladiators, carrying Ktandeo’s cane in one hand and grasping at tree fronds with the other as she fought to keep her footing. Agis came last, carefully weighing each step, yet cursing under his breath as he slipped with every fifth or sixth footfall.
They descended along the top of the muddy ridge for over an hour before it abruptly ended in a sheer cliff. Without pausing, Anezka simply changed directions to avoid the precipice. She moved down the side of the ridge, descending its steep slopes with the grace of a rock leopard. The others followed more laboriously, punctuating the soft patter of raindrops with the sounds of their passing: snapping sticks, tumb
ling rocks, and occasional cries of alarm as they slipped and fell to the ground.
After some time, they heard a faint hiss coming from the gully at the bottom of the ridge. Rikus and Neeva drew their weapons, carrying them at the ready position. Agis unsheathed his sword, and Sadira silently considered the spells she had memorized at the moment.
Anezka laughed at them and continued down the hill. The hiss grew louder, changing into a steady, loud sizzle that echoed off the trees. Agis tried to imagine what kind of strange creature could be making the noise, but he had never heard anything like the sound and failed to think of a single possibility.
At last they came to a break in the underbrush. Rikus and Neeva stopped dead in their tracks. Sadira and Agis quickly stepped to either side of the two gladiators, then also stopped, their eyes wide with shock.
A twenty-foot ribbon of water blocked their path, flashing silver and white as it ran down a narrow, rocky channel. Agis stood at the stream’s edge, listening to it roar and gurgle as it flowed down its jumbled course. Anezka waded out into the stream and began to drink.
“Where does it all come from?” Rikus asked, taking his satchel off so he could fish out his waterskin and fill it.
“From the rain,” Agis answered, also fetching his waterskin.
“There’s too much water for that,” Neeva said. “It would have to rain every day to keep this gully full.”
“What makes you think it doesn’t?” Sadira asked, waving her hands at the dense forest around them. “Plants need water. This many plants must need a lot of water.”
“Rain every day?” Rikus scoffed, “That’s impossible. I’ve seen five rainstorms in my life, and that’s a lot for someone my age.”
“Perhaps the rain is attracted by magic,” Agis suggested, his mind wrestling with the problem of how something as wondrous as a forest could exist. “If sorcerers draw their magic from plants, maybe plants can make magic that causes it to rain.”
“There’s no doubt that something magic is at work here,” Sadira said. “But who can say what? It could be the forest itself or it might be something else, I’m not sure we’ll ever understand—and maybe we shouldn t.”
“No, that’s where you’re wrong,” Agis countered. “If the forest can exist in the mountains, then it can exist in other parts of Athas. For that to happen, we need to understand what makes it grow first.”
Rikus finished filling his waterskin. “The noble’s soft in his head as well as his body,” the mul mumbled.
“I don’t know about that,” Neeva said. “Did you see his faro orchards? If anyone could grow a forest, I think it would be Agis.”
“My thanks, Neeva,” replied Agis, encouraged by her support. “If I could just live in the forest for a year—”
“Whatever Kalak has planned for Tyr would be done and over,” Sadira said. “Maybe we can make Athas green with trees someday, but not now.” She pointed downstream. Anezka had left them and was already far ahead, picking her way silently along the stream bank. “Let’s try not to lose her again. I’m afraid she won’t come back for us.”
They quickly closed their waterskins, then crashed down the gully in pursuit of the halfling. Eventually the ravine descended into a deep, steep-sloped canyon, and the stream transformed into the frothing waters of a wild river. The whole canyon trembled with the power of the mighty watercourse, and the thunder of its torrents overwhelmed every other sound within the valley.
Although the drizzle had finally let up and the sun was baking the rocky shoreline, Anezka continued without letting the party stop to marvel at the river. The halfling led the way along the shore, and eventually they came to a trail overhung by mossy tree boughs.
As they stepped onto this path, Agis caught sight of a quaking branch out of the corner of his eye, then glimpsed the silhouette of a halfling hiding behind the tree itself. The halfling was pointing a small bow at Rikus’s back.
“Rikus, down!” Agis called.
The mul obeyed just before a twang sounded from the small man’s hiding place. A tiny, foot-long arrow sailed over Rikus’s head and lodged in the bulbous trunk of a frond tree. When Agis looked back to the attacker’s hiding place, the halfling was no longer in sight. Neeva and Sadira swung around with their weapons ready. When Agis drew his sword, Anezka disappeared into the forest on the opposite side of the trail.
“Where are they?” Rikus demanded, returning to his feet.
“I only saw one, and he disappeared,” Agis reported.
“You lost sight of him?” the mul snapped angrily.
“You didn’t even see him,” Agis pointed out, his eyes still searching the trees.
Neeva plucked the arrow from the white bark. “They’re not going to do much damage with this thing.”
Rikus snatched the arrow from her hand and peered at the tip. “It was coated with something,” he said. “There are still traces above the tip.”
The other three spoke at the same time. “Poison!”
Another twang sounded from the side of the trail. This time, the arrow struck Neeva in the thigh. She let out a frightened scream and slapped it off her leg. With her other hand, she pointed her trikal at a clump of trembling conifer boughs. “There he is,” she said, stepping in the direction she pointed.
Her knees buckled on the second step, and she pitched face first onto the ground. Sadira kneeled at her side. Screaming in anger, Rikus leaped over the two women. Ignoring Agis and Sadira’s panicked cries to be cautious, he disappeared into the shadowy forest.
Agis started to follow, but almost immediately Rikus yelled, “Got the little varl!”
A sharp smack sounded, then the mul stepped back into the trail with the halfling’s unconscious body in one hand. “Maybe a hostage will discourage—”
Another twang sounded from the other side of the trail. An arrow lodged in the mul’s bare chest. Rikus brushed it away with a quick swipe, then hurled the unconscious halfling at his attacker. He charged toward the underbrush again, cursing and growling, but collapsed before he left the trail.
Sadira pointed her cane over the mul’s head, but Agis called, “No!”
Without explaining further, he pointed a hand to each side of the trail and closed his eyes. Opening an energy path from his nexus to both of his arms, the noble imagined an invisible cord that ran from deep inside him to his fingers. An instant later, his hands tingled with psionic power.
Remembering the halfling taste for giant spiders, Agis decided to use a pair of mental constructs to seek vengeance in Singer’s name. He visualized each of his hands changing into a huge spider, but not the chirping kind Anezka and her fellows liked to eat. These were black and shiny, with great bulbous bodies and carapaces as hard as rock.
The spiders had no physical existence, for they lived only in the noble’s thoughts. After the halflings turned their attention on Agis, however, the spiders would seem as real to the little warriors as anything else in the forest.
Assuming that the warriors were watching him by now, Agis visualized the illusionary spiders leaping off the ends of his arms. When they landed, each was as large as Rikus. They scurried into the forest on eight sturdy legs equipped with claws as sharp as a rock leopard’s nails and as long as a dagger.
By fixing their attention on Agis, the halflings created a faint mental contact between themselves and the noble. The enormous spiders located two of these tenuous threads and followed them like silky strands of web back to their sources. Through his spiders’ eyes, the noble saw the two halflings who were watching lift their bows. They each nocked a black-tipped arrow into the bowstring.
As the halflings took aim, Agis’s hunters entered their minds. Both halflings screamed and released their bowstrings, shooting their tiny arrows into the ground. They dropped their weapons and reached for their daggers, totally convinced that the psionic creatures were real. Agis visualized the spiders’ fangs dripping black poison, then the two beasts struck. The astonished halflings cried out an
d clutched the enormous fangs they believed to be piercing their bodies. They struggled briefly, arms flailing wildly as they tried to free themselves. Finally the warriors grew lethargic and fell silent, convinced that they had been killed.
That belief would not last, Agis knew, for he had not penetrated his targets’ minds deeply enough to persuade them that they were truly dead. Doing so would have taken valuable time and energy. Besides, killing the small warriors hardly seemed wise, considering that the halflings were the ones who possessed the spear he and his friends needed.
After the two halflings stopped struggling, the noble allowed his hunters to roam the forest a little longer, waiting for more ambushers to focus their thoughts on him. After a moment, he felt reasonably sure that he had eliminated the remaining ambushers.
Agis cut off the flow of energy to his spiders, then placed his hands on his knees and gasped for breath. The attack had been one of the most powerful he knew, and it had placed a considerable strain on his body. “We’re safe—for now,” he huffed.
Sadira looked doubtful. “What do you mean?”
“The Way,” Agis explained simply. “What of Neeva and Rikus?”
“They’re still breathing,” Sadira replied. “They seem to be in no danger of dying.”
“Can you wake them?”
Sadira tried shaking, slapping, and yelling at them. Nothing worked. “We’ll just have to wait until they’re conscious.”
“We can’t,” Agis said, shaking his head. “The halflings will recover within an hour or so.”
Sadira looked at the two gladiators. “Why couldn’t this have happened to us instead of them?” she complained. “We’ll never move them.”
“Can’t you do something?” Agis asked, finally bringing his breath under control.
Sadira shook her head. “I don’t know any spells for carrying people.”
“What good is magic?” Agis sighed, stepping toward Rikus’s inert form. “See if you can find Anezka.”
“There’s no use trying,” Sadira answered. “I saw her running down the trail after Rikus fell.”
The Verdant Passage Page 23