Jess Lebow - Obsidian Ridge

As he walked deeper into the room, the silver needle moved, pointing farther to the right. He must be getting close! Weaving his way around a pair of pillars, the Claw stopped in his tracks. The bulbous body of a gargantuan spider blocked his passage.

A cold chill ran down his spine. He tried to shake it off, but it was followed by another, and then another. There was no getting used to it. He hated spiders, and this was the biggest one he'd ever laid eyes on.

From where he stood, it looked as if the creature was jammed in place. It held perfectly still, not twitching so much as a leg. Moving to his left, he watched the needle on the compass as it swung again, pointing right at the spider.

A cold chill gripped the Claw, squeezing his stomach with fear. He continued to circle around, his hands gripped tight, hoping he wouldn't find what the compass was telling him he would. Slipping around another pillar, every hair on his body stood on end-a second huge spider.

Just like the first, its body was seemingly trapped between two pillars. It too held completely still, not a twitch, a tap, or a click. From where he stood, the Claw couldn't see either of their heads, but it certainly looked as if they were both facing the same thing.

Giving it a wide berth, the Claw moved around the rear of the trapped vermin. Steeling himself for what he was going to find, he peered around the pillar and into the space that seemed to hold these two huge spiders' attention.

The floor was awash in reddish brown filth. Stringy bits of gooey flesh and large chips of chitin littered the ground. From what he could piece together, the spiders had been cut in half and pounded flat. They had no faces, no fangs, no front legs, nothing left except their round lower halves. They had literally been squashed like bugs-only they were really big bugs, and whoever had done the squashing apparently didn't have feet large enough to smash more than half.

The Claw had never seen the inside of a spider-other than on the bottom of his boot. But he had seen what a dead human looked like. And nothing on the ground in front of him even remorely resembled the body of a princess.

Glancing down at the compass, the needle no longer pointed at the spiders. Instead, it faced the wall to his left. He was both relieved and frustrated. He had been terrified of coming around that pillar and finding Mariko's body, half devoured, enshrouded in spider silk. At least he knew that wasn't her fate.

At the same time, he'd been following this compass for a long time now, and it always seemed to point into walls. You would think someone could invent a magic that could take physical barriers into account.

The Claw stepped up to the wall and pounded on it with his palm. "Lazy wizards," he grumbled. The wall was completely solid.

He scanned the bricks from ceiling to floor. There were deep scratch marks in several locations, as if something tried to dig its way out of this room. But there were no secret passages or hidden doors that the princess might be hiding behind.

Then something caught his eyes. Bending down, he pushed aside some of the spider guts and lifted a silvery chain with a pair of interlocking circles dangling from the end-the locket he had given to Princess Mariko. The compass had taken him right to it.

"Damn!" The Claw shouted, kicking the wall. His words echoed through the chamber.

Finding the princess just became a whole lot tougher.

He had a way in. He had a way to find the locket. But that was all. He was out of tricks, and time was not on his side.

The edge of a sharp dagger pressed up against his neck. "That'll be enough shouting," said a woman's deep voice. "Put your hands out where I can see them."

The Claw straightened up and did as he was told.

"Well now," said the woman. "It's not every day that you see something like that, now do you?" She slapped one of his bladed gauntlets with a second dagger. "Must be kind of rough, you know, if you need to scratch your eye or something."

The Claw nodded. "I was just thinking that myself."

"Were you now?" The woman started frisking him, feeling around his waist, his calves, and near his boots, but keeping her other blade firmly against his neck.

The Claw started to nod yes, but the sharp edge of the dagger bit into him. He could feel the sting as the metal separated his skin, and he decided it was better to hold still.

"That's a good boy," she said, clearly noticing his discomfort. "No moving till I say so."

The Claw let her continue her search. In the pouch on his belt she found the compass that had led him to the locket, three small healing potions, and two flasks of alchemist's fire.

"You're pretty well armed," she said. "You weren't sent here as a prisoner, were you?"

"No," replied the Claw, trying his best to not move his throat much.

"Judging by the make of your clothes and the magic on them blades, I'd say you work for someone with a lot of coin. Perhaps even the king himself."

"Impressive," said the Claw. Whoever this person was, she reminded him of Princess Mariko-smart, sharp tongued, and dangerous.

She stopped her search and placed her second blade on his neck. "Now listen real good," she said, whispering in his ear. "I'm gonna release you. And you're gonna turn around. But before you get any bright ideas about sticking me with those pointy gloves of yours, just know this-I can cut off your manhood from thirty paces with just one of these." She wiggled her daggers on his neck. "If you want to know what I can do with two, just use your imagination."

The blades slipped away from his neck, and he could feel her step away. She didn't make any noise as she moved.

"Turn around," she said, "and keep your back to the wall."

Doing as he was told, the Claw turned around and finally got a look at the woman who had held him at knifepoint. She was tall, almost as tall as him, with ragged blonde hair. Her slim half-elf build was accentuated by a suit of black leather armor, fitted tight against her frame by a series of straps and buckles. Her outfit would have been quite impressive, had it not been worn thin at the knees, elbows, and neck, and its snapped buckles retied with bits of leather. Tattered sleeves and torn seams on a woman this capable could mean only one thing: she'd been down here for quite some time.

The half-elf stood in front of the destroyed spiders, one dagger pointed at him, the other poised above her shoulder, ready to throw. She looked him over, sizing him up, but every few moments she would look behind her, scanning the room, like a burglar watching for guards.

"Well now," said the Claw, "it's not every day you see something like that." He indicated the intricate strap and buckle system on her suit of armor. "Now do you?"

She looked down at herself and chuckled. "No," she said. "I suppose you don't."

"Must be kind of rough," he said, breaking a smile. "You know, taking it off and whatnot."

"Don't flatter yourself," she said, an evil smile on her face. "Just because you're the first man I've laid eyes on in half a year doesn't mean I'm going to rush into your arms as soon as you look at me all sideways."

The Claw blushed under his mask. He hadn't meant that the way it sounded.

"What's your name?" he asked, trying to change the subject.

"Evelyne," she said. She looked him over once again. "And what do they call you?" "They call me the Claw."

"The Claw? Well, that's catchy. So listen, Claw, now that we're all friendly, why don't you go ahead and take off that mask of yours, so I can see your face?"

"Why would you want me to do that? You don't know me."

Evelyne smiled. "But of course I do. You're the Claw. King Korox's personal assassin."

"Well, you have me at a disadvantage then. Since all I know about you is your name."