Robert Vardeman - Pillar of Night

Lan trailed behind, up a small, rocky path and into a cave. He noticed Krek’s reluctance to enter such a confined space but said nothing. Lan depended on Krek’s good will now. Whatever the spider wanted to show him was fine, if it led to renewing their friendship.

“The mere spiders lost their Webmaster to the grey-clad humans,” explained Krek as he lumbered along the low-ceilinged mineshaft. “I came along in time to show them how to defeat Claybore’s soldiers. I am now Webmaster for the entire range, some forty thousand square miles of terrain.”

“Congratulations,” said Lan. “You were born to be a ruler.”

“I often wonder,” said Krek, sighing like a volcanic fumarole. “The demands are so wearing on me. It seems they never do things right the first time and I have to oversee their every web spin, their every hunting excursion.”

They entered an immense chamber strung with webs on all walls and ceilings. On the floor lay skins similar to those shed by a snake, but their shape disturbed Lan.

Krek saw the man’s interest.

“Claybore’s soldiers,” Krek explained.

“You ate them?”

“Not I personally. The mere spiders act like lowborns, at times. I try to elevate them to higher levels of sophistication and taste, but they resist. Another failure on my part, I fear. Sometimes I can be so inadequate, even in things I do well.”

“But how?” asked Lan, looking at the fallen soldiers.

“We mountain arachnids have a somewhat different digestive process. We can rip off chunks of flesh and devour it.” Krek’s mandibles clanked shut to emphasize the process. “But the mere spiders only spit out a fluid, which dissolves the innards. They can then drink their prey. It is time-consuming because the acid works slowly, but it serves them well enough, I suppose.” The spider shrugged it off, but Lan couldn’t keep from staring at the husks of those who had once been humans.

“Is this what you wanted me to see?” Lan asked.

“What? The debris from sloppy eating? Hardly, Lan Martak. I have had ample time to work on my web. All Webmasters are entitled to perform one artistic masterwork for the edification of their underlings. This is mine.”

Proudly, the spider lifted a middle leg and pointed.

“Krek, it’s gorgeous,” Lan said in true admiration. The other webs in the room were not spun by Krek, of that Lan had been certain the instant he spied them. They had been too small and lacked geometric complexity. But this web!

His eyes followed glistening strands and became confused by the profusion of color and cross-webbing. Sparkling diamonds and rubies glinted from strategic intersections and opalescent gems warmly accentuated the hard glitter of the other jewels. The strands themselves were of a kind Lan had not seen before. All the colors of the rainbow had been interwoven.

“In daylight, this would be an extraordinary work, Krek. Why did you hide it away in the eave?”

“One never boasts of one’s web treasure,” Krek said. “It might make the other spiders feel inferior, as they should in the presence of such grandeur.”

“You are happy ruling here?”

“Passably so,” said Krek, but Lan detected the faint tremors that indicated the spider meant more than he said.

Lan waited, saying nothing. Eventually Krek would elaborate. And he did.

“There is nothing to challenge me now that I have woven this web. How can anyone, even a Webmaster such as myself, improve upon perfection?”

“Would be hard,” Lan agreed.

“With the grey-clads all removed and properly eaten, no danger looms to menace my web. Our hunting webs are adequate for years of sustained growth from our hatchlings. And they even seem to lack ambition.”

“ ‘They,’ Krek?” Lan asked. “You talk of the mere spiders as if you were not one of them.”

“Of course I am not one of them, you silly human. I am twice their size. More.”

“You’re their leader, their Webmaster.”

“Such a burden it is, too.” Krek sighed.

“There were fine times when we walked the Road, weren’t there? Adventure. Danger, definitely danger.”

“That is of no interest.”

Lan knew Krek didn’t mean that.

“The excitement provided us with grand memories. None of it can compare to sitting here for long hours and studying the perfection of your web treasure, though.”

“That is true,” Krek agreed. A while later, the spider asked, “How long would I be away from my lovely web if I went on this mad venture with you?”

“Not long, if we are successful and defeat Claybore. But if we fail…”

Krek pondered this. “There is no way I can consider such a crack-brained journey unless friend Inyx accompanies us. You will abandon me at the first opportunity, as you did before.”

“No, Krek, I won’t,” protested Lan.

“And,” the spider went on, ignoring Lan’s outcry, “I want her to be there to give me some much-needed solace. She is quite good at that, for a human.”

“I’d like her along, too,” Lan said, mentally adding, I need her with me. “But she might refuse.”

“Granted,” said Krek, as if discarding such a silly notion outright. “What of that lumpy female who moons around and then tries to slit your puny throat?”

Sweat poured down Lan’s chest, neck, and face as the spider reminded him of Kiska k’Adesina. The geas grew more powerful by the minute. He fought down the irrational urge to leave Krek and return immediately to be at Kiska’s side. He cursed Claybore for this, even as he tried to calm himself and deny the magical bonds.

“I see you are still attached to her.” Krek rocked his head from side to side. “What bizarre mating rituals you humans have. And yet you claim to find it odd that Klawn was supposed to eat me, or cocoon me for our hatchlings.”

“Claybore’s compulsion spell is too strong now for me to break. This is another reason I need your help, Krek. I cannot prevent Kiska from harming me at the times I am most vulnerable.”

“Yet you would fry me if I tried to harm her.”

“Yes.” Lan swallowed hard, but he had to let Krek know his problems.

“When do we leave?”

“What?”

“Is even your hearing faulty? I would have thought disuse would have quieted the ringing in your ears. While you will never have the acute hearing and vibratory sensing of a spider, I had thought…”

“You’ll come with me?” Lan asked, startled at the sudden acceptance.

“I said as much. Now do we go to find friend Inyx, or do we malinger in the cave only to admire that pathetic wall hanging?” Krek indicated his finely spun web.

Lan and Krek popped! into the world in the midst of a battle. Lan reacted instinctively, drawing sword and bringing it downward in a long, powerful slash that ended a grey legionnaire’s life. He had to put his foot on the man’s chest to give enough leverage to pull his blade free. By the time he spun about, ready to continue the fight, he saw that Krek had been actively eliminating soldiers. The sight of the giant arachnid implacably snipping and clacking his way through their ranks demoralized them.

They broke rank and ran-to their death.

Inyx gave the order to her slingers. As soon as the soldiers exposed themselves to fire, a hail of exploding pellets fell among them. Only a handful survived to surrender.

Lan panted harshly from the exertion. In prior times he would have just been getting started. Now he felt slow, tired, out of place.

“Friend Lan Martak,” complained Krek. “Why did you not use a spell to reduce them all to quivering blobs of green slime or some other appropriate measure?”

“Didn’t think of it,” Lan admitted. But he had noticed Krek again referred to him as “friend.” That lent more strength to his arm than anything else might have.