Steven Erikson - The Bonehunters

Who now looked up, and scowled. 'All right, you pompous ass, let's have it.'

The slight deflation was involuntary on the Master Investigator's part, but he managed to mask it as best as possible. 'I have the following to report, sir, regarding the investigation I rigorously undertook on the mysterious deaths of the acolytes and priests of the temple dedicated to D'rek on the Street of-'

'Will you shut up! You want to report your conclusions, yes? Then do just that!'

'Of course, sir. Given lack of evidence to the contrary, sir, only one conclusion is possible. The devotees of D'rek have, one and all, committed a thorough orgy of suicide in the span of a single night.'

Lizard eyes regarded him for an uncomfortably long time. Then he said, 'Sergeant Hellian, the original investigator, said precisely the same thing.'

'Clearly a perceptive woman, sir.'

'A drunk. I shipped her to the Fourteenth.'

'The… Fourteenth…?'

'Write up your conclusions,' the Commander then said, 'and close the investigation. Now get out of here.'

The Master Investigator saluted and escaped with as much dignity as he could manage. Along the corridor, another nod to the guards, then out through the main doors, onto the landing, then down the steps.

Where he paused, looked up. The sunlight was glistening from the magnificent webs of the paralt spiders now resident in the towers of Kartool. A skein of crystal beauty, scintillating like threads of diamond against the stunning blue sky.

Optimism returning, he sighed, deciding that he had never before seen such a wondrous, breathtaking sight. And so he set off with a lighter step, boots ringing smartly on the cobbles.

While a score of huge spiders, crouched in their small caves dug into the walls of the towers, looked with cold, multifaceted eyes. Looked down upon all that crawled below, occasionally curious, ever patient, even as the sweet whispers of hunger flitted through their liquid brains.

The webs were set.

And the traps, in their elaborate elegance, were never empty for long.