Excerpts, Serials, and Out-of-Print

He understood that her greeting was more than just an overly formal salutation; most likely, it was the incantative key that temporarily opened the perimeter for him. He therefore wasted no time and scurried up to the fire.

Medb held her cloak wrapped around her, but when she opened it before she sat back down, he saw that she was naked. Not that that perturbed or titillated him. He understood from various stories told to him that she was reckoned to be quite handsome and had a reputation for being lecherous. As a matter of fact, the merchant had confided far more about their mutual activities the night he spent with her than the spider had wanted to hear. To him, though, she was simply an animal, potential prey were he ever to catch her off her guard.

He scuttled around to the side of the fire so he could see her better, but he was careful not to approach so close that he unnerved her. The last thing he wanted was for her to think he was attacking. She was far too crucial to the success of his mission for him to try to get the better of her, at least for now. Besides, he remembered their first encounter, how he had underestimated her and she had made him regret it. He was not eager to repeat that humiliation. She and two other travelers had come to the web bridge he had constructed across an impassable canyon in the mountains north of Inganok. By providing a safe route free of monsters and robbers, he insured a steady train of travelers, from whom he charged tolls. Her companions had crossed over first, each promising that the one to follow would pay him handsomely for all. When Medb arrived, he demanded payment, and she offered herself and her yak, but he had to take her. So they fought, but despite his having defeated other humanoid beings who had challenged him, she was too quick and strong for him, and she easily subdued him. She let him go only after he agreed to accept a token payment of one silver tahler. Yet that tahler became a prized possession, an eternal reminder both of her and his own careless overconfidence.

"To what do I owe this pleasure?" she asked in her strong contralto. When he paused to gather his thoughts, so as to spin a convincing argument, she added, "You should know, I had planned to pay you a visit on my way to Urg."

It was then that he understood how best to broach the reason for seeking her out. "I hoped that would be the case," he replied in his breathy whisper. He spoke to her in the common tongue that all beings understood, instead of his own race's native language of sheer whistles. "I had business in the mountains around Mt. Thurai, so when I heard you were on the plateau I thought we could travel together, for mutual protection. It would also give us a chance to get to know one another better."

Medb looked impressed. "That is quite a long journey for you to make alone. I would think it would be very dangerous, considering your small size." And indeed, despite having survived seventy-five years, he was still only as large as a bullock, not much more than thrice the size he was when he had hatched out of his egg.

Cuideog waved his pedipalps in the air, the equivalent of a shrug. "It wasn't all that dangerous. Besides, I have duties that I must occasionally perform, danger or no."

As he hoped it would, that comment piqued Medb's interest. "What sort of duties?" Very little was known of the habits of Leng spiders, for obvious reasons, and there were sages who would pay large sums of money for mere rumors.

"I am sometimes called upon to carry messages between the members of the Council of Elders."

Genuinely perplexed, Medb said, "I have never heard of a such a thing; have you, Runt?"

She looked over at the Zoog, who was sitting on a pack. Though his true name was Conaed, he was well nicknamed, for he was only half the size of his race. However, his verdigris-speckled bronze fur was darker and his tarnished-silver facial stripes were bolder than normal. In the growing darkness, his pupils had widened, reducing the size of his peat-brown irises, while the firelight reflecting off his retinas gave them an eerie green glow.

"Indeed, Lady," he answered her, his pink nose tendrils quivering excitedly, "I have not, but there are rumors the spiders of Leng have a government, of sorts." Among his own people, he was an archivist: he memorized the stories the Zoogs collected from their friends and spies. He accompanied Medb to learn more, while he served her as seer and scholar, and a teller of tales.

"You are quite right, Master Zoog," Cuideog confirmed, "though the council has no power to govern individuals. Instead, it acts in an advisory role, as well as engages in projects that are meant to improve the quality of life for all spiders. It is made up of the oldest and wisest individuals among us."

"I would not have thought a government of any sort would be possible among your people," remarked the cat. Crèmedevoyageur lay beside Medb on her bedroll. He had a rangy stocky build, with a short, fawn-colored coat decorated with bronze tiger stripes that were bold on his face, legs, and tail, and more faded on his body. He had a salmon-pink nose and dust-blue irises, which were also reduced by the widening pupils, but his eyes glowed blood-red in the firelight. He accompanied Medb out of friendship and provided her with advice. He also acted as envoy for the High Queen of All Cats, but his profession was as a member of the cats' messenger service.

"This is true, Master Cat, my people find it very difficult to cooperate for long. However, the oldest are also the largest, and therefore the most sedentary. They reside within their own domains and have no direct contact with one another, so they are free to discuss ideas and arrive at decisions and make plans without fighting for dominance. Younglings, and runts such as myself, are used to relay messages between the members of the council; to bring them news of what occurs beyond the borders of their respective domains and from the world outside the plateau; to ferry requests for advice to them and responses back to the penitents; to carry their edicts to the rest of our people; and to deal with non-spiders."

"Prey, you mean; that is what you call other races," Medb challenged.

Again, he shrugged. "That, or potential prey." Then: "I see you have been studying up on my people."

"I have my sources," she replied, but in the whistling language of Leng spiders. She had a weird accent that distorted her speech, and her grammar and pronunciation left something to be desired, but she was still better than most humans ever became.

Cuideog whistled his admiration, but replied in the human tongue, "You speak well, for a youngling a half-year out of the egg."

But Medb ignored the gibe. "So," she said, switching back to human language, "your real profession is as a techt."

"Is that what you would call it? As a matter of fact, my duties are fairly light, and I need a way to support myself in any event, so the bridge is simply a means to an end. Besides, being a 'tehsht' is no guarantee of safety, especially if you run into a starving spider that's larger than yourself. So, you have to know how to hide, and when that doesn't work how to evade. And as a last resort, you have to know a few good stories; thankfully, we spiders love storytelling." "A bard as well," Medb commented. Then: "As clever as you must be, I would think that you would have been appointed to this council by now."

"I said the elders were wise, not clever; they don't have to be, as large as they are. In any event, it doesn't work that way." The conversation was going well, but this was the critical point. "The council is not a formal body, so members are not chosen in any way. It is simply a group of individuals who are greatly respected for their knowledge, and greatly feared for their strength. As you might guess, no one respects or fears me.

"Not that either protects them, you understand. Every now and then a particularly dull-witted spider will challenge one, and sometimes even win; it's rare, but it does happen. Also, one of the few times my people will cooperate is when a group of younger spiders band together to overpower and kill a larger, sedentary spider to claim his territory. They then divide it up between themselves, but at that point they become rivals; one eventually prevails over the others and claims the whole domain for himself. Even students will do this, if they feel their teacher is weak enough."

"Students?" piped the bird; "teachers?" Teehar'owan was perched on a small rock outcropping between Medb and the packs. He was the size of a jay, with a crest and long tail, and gaudily decorated in red, green, gold, and blue plumage. His eyes had scarlet irises, now almost completely obscured by the expanded pupils, but unlike his other friends no glow emanated from them. He accompanied the former queen out of the hope that one day during her travels he would find his lost mate, but in the meantime he served her as scout and herald.

"Ah, yes, Master Bird, just about the only other time we cooperate is when an older spider acts as a teacher for a group of younger spiders. Even then, the teacher will take an occasional student, and the students often turn on their smaller, weaker colleagues. My patron, the council member I run errands for and report to, was my teacher."

Medb stifled a yawn, which Cuideog suspected was more showmanship than a truly spontaneous reaction. "Well, it is getting late, and we will have days ahead of us to pursue these fascinating topics. I suggest we retire and get an early start in the morning. Master Spider," she added in a slightly mocking tone, "as my guest, you are permitted the run of my camp. I only ask that you refrain from eating my yaks or companions."

"Mistress, please!" objected the bird, while the cat commented in a sour tone, "Madam, your sense of humor would turn a rat's stomach." The unflappable Zoog said nothing. Medb herself just grinned viciously.

"There is a favor I would like to ask of you," Cuideog interrupted.

"Name it," Medb said, being magnanimous.

"When we reach the barrier mountains on the western edge of the plateau, a short ways off the trail to Urg is the valley that is the domain of my patron. I bear a message for him from the council member that lives in the shadow of Mt. Thurai, and it must be delivered as soon as possible. I ask that we detour long enough for me to deliver my missive."

"How long would this detour be?"

"No more than a day each way, if even that."

Medb's next question caught Cuideog off guard. "How large is your patron?"

"He is neither the oldest now living," the spider replied cautiously, "nor the largest ever known, but a yak to him would be as a mouse to Master Crème." The bird piped in alarm as the cat laid back his ears, narrowed his eyes, and moaned menacingly, and even the Zoog pricked up his ears.

But Medb grew pensive. Presently she said, "I have never seen one of the titans of your race. Very well, Master Spider, we shall make your detour and pay your patron a visit." And with that, she opened her cloak long enough to drape it over her head before wrapping it around herself again. She then laid down on her bedroll beside the cat, who snuggled up against her, before throwing the blanket over them both. The bird flew over to the pack on which the Zoog lay, and the two of them nestled together. Medb drifted off to sleep rather quickly, but her companions remained awake for some small time afterwards, as they kept a cautious eye on the spider. For his part, Cuideog simply hunkered down where he sat. It was difficult for him to relax, since he wasn't used to sleeping unconcealed and dependent upon another for his protection. Yet in time he did finally drift off into a contented sleep, secure in the knowledge that, as her guest, Medb would give her life to protect him from harm.

+ + + + +

Though it had taken Cuideog seven days to find Medb and her companions, it took them only four to reach the valley of his patron, and that was only because she insisted upon visiting the monastery and spent a whole day there. The spider refused to accompany her inside, and she only took Crème with her, leaving Teehar and Conaed, along with the yaks, with him. She left them at dawn one day and returned at dawn the following, and all she would say was that she and the cat had had a "pleasant" visit with the High Priest. Cuideog figured that she would no doubt confide in the bird and Zoog later, but she told him nothing more, and he had no inclination to press her for details.

The rest of the journey was surprisingly quiet. Medb seemed to have an uncanny knack for avoiding most dangers, and between the bird and the cat scouting the trail ahead of and the terrain around them, they were able to avoid the rest. Even so, whereas Cuideog had taken pains to avoid all unnecessary contact with others, including passing unseen, Medb had no such concern. In fact, she purposely visited every Leng-Man village they came across, save for a few, to ask for a meal, and in one case to spend the night, for which Medb paid their inhabitants generously. For their part, the villagers took great pains to wine and dine them without treachery, even sacrificing one of their yaks to feed the spider. It seemed to Cuideog, however, that they did not do so out of fear or greed, but because of a grudging, if malevolently mirthful, respect. Nor was the former queen's interest solely concerned with food and shelter: the night they stayed over, Medb spent the time with seven brothers. Why, and what she did with them, mystified Cuideog, but he preferred to stay in the stables with her companions, guarding her three pack yaks. Even so, occasionally he could hear her with her partners, and the sounds they made were enough to curdle even his pale arachnid blood.

Regardless, as tempting as she and her yaks — not to mention the goods they carried — were, Cuideog was surprised they did not have to fight their way across the plateau. It seemed as if even here the local residents, human and non-human alike, had heard of her and respected her reputation. There were only three incidents of note. The first was the day the Zoog called out a warning and the group looked up to see a small flock of shantaks circling them. Rather than run for cover, Medb actually called out to them in a language Cuideog had never heard before. One, probably the leader, broke formation and flew low over them. As it passed overhead, it responded in a roaring croak, then ascended back to join its fellows, whereupon the flock flew off.

The second was the night a shade came slithering into the camp. The cat, who often prowled around the surrounding area, came running back, yowling loud enough to raise the dead. Medb was awake in an instant, throwing off the blanket and her cloak, and once she understood the danger she grabbed a burning branch from the fire. The shade seemed unaffected by the wards and guards she had set up, but when it saw her, it lifted itself off the ground into a pillar of inky smoke and struck at her with a tendril. She batted it away with her makeshift torch for some minutes, before finally pointing her hand at the shade and shouting the word, "Lócharn!" The result was an intense beam of white light that shot from her fingers and struck the shade in the middle of its form. At first it just seemed to absorb the beam, but then the light flashed through it, and in the next instant it dissipated as if dispersed by a wind.

The third and most dangerous incident occurred when they were walking through a deep ravine with steep, ragged walls. This time it was the bird who warned them, and on his heels appeared four young spiders, each a bit larger than oxen. As two made for the yaks and one charged Cuideog, the fourth leapt from a high ledge at Medb. Rather than try to evade it, however, she shouted, "Glámain!" at it, and it burst into flames within a second or two. The fire burned so quick and fiercely it looked like a flash; when it went out, all that was left was a cloud of fine, light ash that slowly settled to the ground.

Yet Medb wasted no time admiring her victory. Even before the spell took effect, she was already whirling to confront the two attacking from the rear. As she rushed the one nearest her, the Zoog whistled a short but complex tune. Immediately, a cloud of blue and green sparkles formed in the air in front of that spider and blew towards it, engulfing its cephalothorax. The spider halted its advance and began stumbling about, waving its pedipalps around frantically, as if it could no longer see or hear or even feel. Taking advantage of its weakness, Medb leapt at it, raising the spear she used as a walking staff over her head, and as she descended she drove the spearhead down to strike between its two front eyes. Her momentum drove the weapon's point through the chitin shell while the serrated edge cut a huge, gaping gash. The spearhead penetrated deep into the spider's body and lodged in its brain before the shaft broke off. Medb landed on the spider's shell and immediately jumped off, but the arachnid simply shuddered once and collapsed.

Meanwhile, its partner threw itself at the former queen. Before it could reach her, however, the bird dived at it to attack its eyes. It saw him coming and ducked at the last minute as it tried to knock him out of the air with its pedipalps. That gave Medb the chanced to confront it. Ignoring her sword, she pulled her foot-long, heavy-bladed dirk from her belt and, stepping right up into the spider's face, plunged it between the chelicerae through the mouth and into the brain. It too convulsed briefly before foundering.

Oblivious to the fate of its companions, the spider that came after Cuideog pressed its attack, confident of victory. Its opponent was only two-thirds its sized, and, if necessary, once the yaks and the woman had been secured, its three comrades could help it subdue the runt. However, it made the same mistake most who opposed Cuideog made: it assumed from his small size that he was young and inexperienced. Cuideog knew he could not win a direct frontal assault against an opponent so large, nor could he outrun it. So instead he played out a line of silk from one spinneret and anchored it to the ground. He waited until the other spider was almost on top of him, then deliberately ducked beneath it. Startled, the other spider lifted its body, as he expected it would, and as he passed by its rear pair of legs he sprayed a fine mass of sticking webbing on the right one, turned in that direction, and deftly attached the line he was spinning to that leg as he rushed around the other spider's side. It turned towards him, but he was too quick for it; he avoided its furiously flailing chelicerae as he again passed beneath it, this time attaching the line to the left rear leg. His opponent once again turned towards him as he ran around its left side, and again he ducked beneath it, this time feeling its fangs rack across the chitin of his abdomen. Yet he ran straight out behind it a few yards, then detached the line from his spinneret, spun around, and gripped it with his two pairs of front legs while bracing himself with the back two pairs. As the other spider began to turn, he pulled on the line as hard as he could, and the rear legs of his attacker collapsed, folding beneath it. He then dug in as the other spider tried to back away, but as the line tautened, it caught five of the remaining six legs and pulled them beneath its body with the rear pair. The spider teetered for a moment before loosing its balance and collapsing onto its belly, its legs immobilized in the silk line except for one that struggled to gain some kind of purchase.

By this time, Medb had dispatched her opponents and had turned her attention to the last attacker. Drawing her sword, she rushed at it, but even after she saw Cuideog ensnare it, she did not slacken her pace. Instead, she ran for its one free leg and, swinging her long-bladed, slashing weapon as she passed, severed it at its as third joint. She then slowed to a walk and came around to its face. As she approached, it reached out with its chelicerae and tried to impale her on its fangs, but she darted out of reach, then leapt from a standing position onto the back of its cephalothorax. Turning around, she kneeled and placed the point of the sword against the shell between and behind its forward pair of eyes, but in full view of its other eyes.

"Yield!" she commanded, in the whistling spider language, "or I will drive my weapon into your brain." Though it had struggled against its snare, now resigned to its fate it submitted to her will and relaxed. Cuideog took the opportunity to tie its legs with a few more lines of silk, and secure them to the ground with support lines.

"What is your name?" she demanded in human speech, standing.

"I have no name," it replied sullenly.

Jumping down from its back, she walked around to its face again, right up within reach of its chelicerae. Bending over, she placed her own face barely a foot away from its eyes. "Then I shall give you a name," she declared imperiously: "Latrand. In the language of my father's people, it means bold."

The spider flexed its fangs as drops of venom collected at each tip, but Medb raised her sword faster than the spider could follow and poised the point right between its forward eyes.

"You would be wise not to provoke me," she warned it; "I propose to spare your life, but I will not hesitate to strike if you give me just cause."

"Why?" it asked, both incredulous and suspicious. Having finished his task, Cuideog came around behind Medb to watch for any treachery on the part of their captive.

"In my native land of Erin," she replied, "having captured you in fair combat, you would now be my daer-fudir, to do with as I see fit, but I have no need of your services, and I do not slay the helpless. Therefore, I shall claim ransom instead; your price will be to grant me a favor, at whatever time I should need it."

Though the spider's face was incapable of expression, it jerked its pedipalps and chelicerae in a gesture that to Cuideog indicated astonishment. If spiders could laugh, this one would have bellowed in disbelief.

"You must be insane, or a fool, or both," the spider answered back.

"There is no reason for it to agree," Cuideog explained. "No spider would willingly beholden itself to prey."

"So your people do have honor after all," she said over her shoulder.

"Among ourselves, yes."

"Conditional honor is hollow and false," she declared haughtily, but then she cocked her head, as if considering a different idea. Coming to a decision, she lowered her sword, then threw it away.

"I am now at your mercy, Latrand; you may do with me as you please."

In a flash, the chelicerae struck out and encircled her around the waist, while the pedipalps grasped her by the shoulders. The fangs opened, but then closed just enough for the points to press into her back without penetrating the cloth of the simple dress she wore.

Crème and Teehar cried out and rushed towards her, but stopped when Conaed barked at them. For his part, Cuideog was flabbergasted, but also intrigued, so he resolved to simply watch and see what would happen. Medb made no attempt to fight back or escape; instead she grinned lasciviously and joked, "You have a strong embrace, Latrand. It is a shame you do not have the equipment to focáil me."

The spider squeezed her waist with its chelicerae, and she gasped from the pressure, but she still did not struggle. It held her for a few seconds longer, but then it released her. "I agree to your terms," it added with a note of sour reluctance.

Medb hurried away from the spider before it could change its mind. As she retrieved her sword, though, it unexpectedly asked her, "What is your name?"

She waved impatiently at Teehar, who said, "She is Mayv Hairrain, of the city of Ulthar."

"Well, Mayv Hairrain of Ulthar, you are a remarkable female, for potential prey." Surprised at the compliment, Medb paused as she walked past it, and favored Latrand with a pleased smile and a nod of her head.

She spent a few minutes retrieving her dirk and spear blade, then made to sever the silken lines that secured the spider.

"You won't be able to cut them," Cuideog objected. "You go on ahead; I will release it when you have a good head start and then catch up." When Medb gave him a suspicious look, he reassured her, "I promise I will not harm it."

So she agreed, and took the reins of the yaks and started off. Cuideog waited until she was out of sight, but did not free Latrand right away. Instead he asked the other spider, "Why did you agree to her bargain?"

"A youngling such as yourself would not understand."

Cuideog would have smiled if he could. "I have survived three migrations, and am prepared for a fourth. You have yet to participate in your first. I believe I would understand better than you do yourself."

"Who are you?" it asked, so Cuideog explained himself and his relationship with Medb.

Latrand was more respectful afterwards, but it replied in a cagey manner, "Let us just say that I can respect a fellow female who is as strong and competent as she."

Cryptic as it was, Cuideog could accept that, if for no other reason than it was impolite to contradict a lady. So he merely spat on a section of the webbing binding her, gave a courteous farewell, and raced away before she could free herself.

+ + + + +

When Medb and Cuideog reached the top of the pass and stood on a ledge that overlooked the valley of his patron, at first all they saw was a long, narrow plateau with a curiously flat, featureless surface. She was about to turn towards the spider and question him about this anomaly, when a strong breeze blew across their faces, and the section of ground in front of them began to gently undulate. Startled, Medb knelt and carefully reached out with her hand to touch the ground. It yielded under the pressure of her palm and she could feel a material like fine silk.

Which of course, she realized with mild shock, was exactly what it was.

"The valley is completely webbed over," she said as she stood, in a voice that was uncharacteristically hushed. "Damnaigh."

"The sight of it never fails to awe me, and I've been seeing it for years," Cuideog remarked. "You can explain it to potential prey for hours and none will truly grasp it until they see it for themselves."

He led the party back down the pass a short ways to a jumble of huge boulders that previously Medb had taken little notice of. Hidden amidst them was a hole, that opened into a tunnel, that led down into the interior of the ridge. Though the mouth was barely large enough for one of the pack-laden yaks to pass through, the passage itself quickly widened into a broad thoroughfare that was large enough for the entire party to walk comfortably. Medb took a minute or two to retrieve a torch she had ensorcelled with a perpetual light spell to illuminate their way before they started down into it.

"You and your companions should be safe enough," Cuideog explained as they descended the somewhat steep slope. "You are all too small to be of interest to my patron. The yaks are another matter, but as long as they remain within this tunnel out of reach, they should be all right. My main concern is whether there are any students around; they will not hesitate to attack even if my patron declares you sacrosanct. Until I can determine how safe the situation is, it would be best if all of you stay with me."

"But how safe are you?" Medb asked pointedly.

Cuideog shrugged. "Not much better," he admitted, "but I have an advantage: the students will not harm me out of fear of my patron. Still, new students are arriving all the time, and until they learn who I am they can mistake me for one of them. Also, I wouldn't put it past one or another to try to ambush me. We just have to keep on our toes."

By this time they had come to the end of the tunnel, which opened up into the face of a crag overlooking the valley. Now under the covering web, Medb could see more of the landscape, but not much more, being as everything was enshrouded in webbing. It had the appearance of being covered with snow, except the webbing varied in color from cream to ivory to gray, depending upon its age. Surprisingly, the scene was brighter than she expected; the roof web must have been translucent. It was also warmer and more humid, but then the roof probably kept in whatever heat and moisture collected in the valley. But what struck her the most was that nothing stirred, and it was eerily quiet.

"How do you alert your patron that you have arrived?" Medb inquired.

In answer, the spider released a cable made of braided silk from where it had been attached to the ledge of the opening. An instant afterward, a horrendous crash sounded from far below them. "My patron has traps set up all along the perimeter of his domain. That wasn't one of them, but it is based on the same principle. Each has a method for making noise when it is sprung."

"How long will it take him to get here?"

"That depends upon where he is when he hears it, but even if he was on the far end of the valley it will only take him a couple of hours to reach us. That's not the problem, though. His students almost certainly heard it as well, and they may get here sooner."

"Then we had better set up a defensive perimeter," and, taking up the reins of her yak train, she led them against one wall and huddled them together.

"Crème, Teehar," she instructed as she removed her cloak and belt and began taking off her dress, "I want the two of you to stay with the yaks, where it is safer. You have the best chance of escaping, so if anything happens to Cuideog and myself, do not hesitate, do not try to help us, just get out, and quickly. Do you understand?" For once, the bird and the cat assented without argument.

Cuideog watched with interest as Medb draped her clothing over one of the yaks and reattached her belt around her waist. Except for that, her heavy gold neckring, and a headband of silverish metal, she was completely naked; she had even removed her shoes. "Why did you undress?" he inquired.

Medb detached four, eight-foot fighting spears with leaf-shaped, serrated blades from the harness of one of the yaks and placed them with the one she used as a walking staff. Then she removed a shield from the side of another of her beasts of burden. It was circular, about three feet in diameter, and made of wood that was reinforced with a metal rim and four metal spokes that met at a large metal knob in the center. Inside behind the handholds was a frame, to which were attached six four-foot throwing spears with metal points.

As she slipped it on over one arm, she explained, "I am more comfortable fighting this way, both physically and emotionally. And, I will admit it appeals to my vanity. In my homeland of Erin, the warriors of three of its five races practiced heroic nudity on the battlefield. It was their way of demonstrating their bravado and their contempt for the enemy. They would not consider a fighter who wore any form of armor to be truly brave."

Cuideog shrugged. "It is of no importance to me, though I doubt either the students or my patron will be impressed."

Medb ignore the taunt. "I need you to keep watch on the tunnel behind us, while I hold the opening here. Just be careful; I will be throwing spears and Runt will be throwing béimshíde, and we may be unable at times to aim too carefully."

"Just be sure you aim high rather than low," the spider replied tartly as he scuttled past her and back up the tunnel a short ways. Medb made no retort as she took up a position in plain sight at the mouth of the opening.

+ + + + +

A lifetime spent skulking, spying, hiding, and lying in wait had tempered Cuideog for patience, but this time he was nervous, and his anxiety grew steadily with time. He had neither the strength nor size to directly confront another adult spider, and his experience was in stealth, evasion, and trickery, not hand-to-hand combat. Raising his cephalothorax, he could see Medb with his rearward pair of eyes. She stood tall and erect, displaying an air of confidence that he envied. Though he doubted even she could fend off a dozen or more determined, hungry spiders, he knew she would throw herself at them with no thought for her own safety and fight until she was killed. Whereas he was worried that his reaction would be to follow his instincts and make a run for it.

Suddenly he realized that much of his anxiety stemmed from his fear that he would desert her at the first possible moment, and rather than ease his discomfort, the incongruity of the matter made it worse. If anyone had told him two weeks ago that the opinion a prey animal held of him would matter to him personally, or that he would risk his life to aid one, he would have derided that person as being insane. But, then again, he also never expected any spider to show enough respect for potential prey to actually spare it when she had it helpless, as Latrand had done with Medb. There was something about this woman, that made people admire her and even revere her, despite her arrogant, imperious attitude and loose morals. It was as if her boundless self-confidence and indomitable courage were infectious.

As he stood watch, Cuideog kept his pedipalps stretched out ahead of him and pressed to the ground; as such, he felt the students coming before he actually saw them. There were nine of them, from the way their feet claws and legs scratched against the rock; three approached him while six converged on the tunnel opening. He considered whistling to alert Medb, then thought better of it, being as he didn't want the students to know they were ready for them. Yet, he didn't want the former queen to be taken by surprise. Uncertain as to what to do, he rose up again to look at her, and was relieved to see that she was alert to their approach. Mentally chastising himself, he realized that she probably heard them coming, being as humans had better ears than spiders did.

Even as he watched her, the six spiders came into view. Two came up over the lip of the ledge, one each came around the sides of the mouth, and two more appeared down from above and crawled over onto the ceiling. Fortunately, they were moving cautiously, which gave Medb the time to see them and evaluate the situation. Realizing that there were too many in too close a quarter for her to use her throwing spears, she yielded the ledge to the students and retreated back to where she had left her fighting spears. Without taking her eyes off her opponents, she smoothly reached behind her and took hold of one as they advanced towards her.

He then became aware that the three spiders coming towards him were within jumping distance. He waited until he could see the one in front, then he raised himself up as far as he could stretch, waved his pedipalps in the air, and whistled a warning. Immediately the three spiders stopped, and he could see that the six behind him halted an instant later.

"Cuideog, what is going on?" Medb asked uncertainly, but the bardic spider ignored her. His status as the teacher's courier was not something the students were required to respect, especially if they could catch him in ambush or overpower him, yet they did show deference to him most of the time out of fear of his patron. So there was a chance he could convince them to leave if he spun a convincing argument. The problem was how to get them to leave Medb and her companions alone as well. Almost certainly they would allow him to leave if he let them take the woman and her yaks, but he needed her, and he knew she would not sacrifice her pack animals. So he had to think fast and well if he was to extract them all from this predicament.

"You are the runt who performs errands for our teacher," said the foremost spider. Since it was the largest, Cuideog figured it was the leader.

"I am Quijohg the Tehsht," he confirmed.

"Yes, you are the one who took a human name, and now believes he is better than the rest of us."

This wasn't starting out as well as he had hoped, but he did not waste time trying to defend himself. "I am on a mission for the possessor of this domain. I bear an important message that he has been waiting for, and he knows I am here, so if he does not find me here, he will know you and the others are responsible."

"Then leave, or stay but do not interfere. Just let us have the prey. The yaks will be more food than we have seen in weeks, and the woman will provide us with our first taste of man-juice."

It was then that Cuideog realized how best to protect his charges. "I cannot give them to you; they are for my patron."

"The yaks could only be a snack at best, and the woman would be barely a mouthful. We would benefit from them more than he."

"Nonetheless, I had promised him a gift when I returned; they are to be that gift."

"Tell him you could not find what he wanted."

"He would know that was a lie."

"Then we will leave you with one yak provided we can take the rest, plus the woman."

"I would rather give you the yaks and keep the woman for my patron, but as you pointed out she alone is not worth the effort to consume. I must have her and at least one yak; I can sacrifice the other two."

"No," said the chief student, "I want the woman for myself. You know the torah: let each claim what he has strength to take, and possession shall be counted superior to claim. The teacher is not here; I am. I am the strongest present; therefore, I claim her, and once I have taken her the teacher will be unable to exert his prior claim. You may choose to oppose me, in which case I will kill you and let the others feast on you as well. Or you may join with me, and I will share her with you."

"You always were a poor student," Cuideog replied tiredly. "You forget the talmud; it is generally conceded that a prior claim may be exercised if the claimant is strong enough, and retribution for a usurped possession is permissible. Do you really believe my patron would not retaliate for your hubris, if you go through with this mad plan?"

The chief student hesitated, clearly confused. Cuideog knew he was getting through to the other students, who were already displaying signs of apprehension. Unfortunately, the chief student realized it as well, and decided to bully its way through.

"Enough discussion! I will take her now."

"You are welcome to try," Cuideog declared bravely, though it was nearly all bluff, "but I doubt you will have much help."

"Perhaps," the chief student conceded, "but once I have dispatched you the others will join with me to take your gifts." And he started forward with deliberate menace. Cuideog stood his ground, refusing to be intimidated, but feeling no confidence in an inevitable victory.

Suddenly a piercing whistle — almost like a scream — rent the air. For a moment everyone froze; then the students scattered. Of the six confronting Medb, the two on the ceiling scrambled up the tunnel while the other four ducked out the mouth and fled away along the cliff face. As soon as they passed the three facing Cuideog, the two on the ceiling sidled down the walls and jumped to the floor, then raced off at full speed, quickly followed by the two behind the leader. For its part, the chief student hesitated in its advance. Cuideog could appreciate its dilemma. It almost certainly felt confident that it could press the attack and kill or incapacitate him before the teacher arrived, and in the confines of the tunnel the teacher would be unable to get at it. But it was also fearful that the huge spider might seek retribution at a later time, and the student obviously did not want to chance that. In the end, caution won out over aggression, and it began to back away.

"This is not over, runtling," it declared, waving its pedipalps menacingly in the air, then it too turned and hurried up the tunnel to safety.

Cuideog waited until he was sure it was gone, then he went to join Medb at the opening.

"What happened?" she asked, when he came abreast of her.

"My patron is coming," was all he said.

Medb waited for him to say more, but when he did not, she observed, "It seems to me you have made a bidbe out of that big spider."

"What is this 'biveh'?"

"In the language of my mother's people it means foe or adversary, essential a sworn enemy. Be careful of it; it will seek revenge."

Cuideog shrugged, but whatever retort he would have made was choked off by a familiar feeling. "My patron has arrived."

+ + + + +

Curious, Medb walked up to the ledge and looked down the cliff. In the gloom of the semi-light, she saw a gigantic shape coming up the side of the crag. It made no sound as it came, despite its size, and it was moving much faster than she would have imagined something that big could. As she watched it, her spine prickled, much as it did when she was confronted by the Fairy Host. She felt as if she was in the presence of great power, magical as well as physical, power that could rival even that of the Daoine Sídhe.

Unnerved, she retreated away from the ledge. Even as she turned to ask Cuideog about it, a gigantic face, as large as an elephant's whole body, suddenly rose into view. It was dominated by two huge, glassy eyes the color of lapis lazuli, set into a frame of chitin bordered in violet so dark it looked almost black, but which faded to purple across the rest of the "head".

To her credit, Medb did not cry out, but she did back hastily into the tunnel, raising her shield and spear, as if either would have done any good. However, both Crème and Teehar shrieked in terror and dove to hide behind the yaks, and even the normally unflappable Conaed growled nervously and tried to burrow into one of the packs.

"Let me see all of you, morsel," the huge spider commanded. It's voice was not much louder than Cuideog's, but it was deeper and more powerful; Medb felt it as much as heard it. Intimidated, the former queen lowered shield and spear and let the former slip off her arm.

"My, you are a plump one," the spider critiqued approvingly.

"I beg your pardon!" Medb replied hotly, her fear vanishing in the face of her indignation. For, while she was indeed a massive woman, tall and well-endowed in breast, hip, and thigh, she was also thin-waisted, with a hard flat stomach, and her mass came from muscles, not fat.

"Don't take it personally," Cuideog suggested. "He calls all prey of your size morsels, and he simply means you are larger than most humans or Leng-Men that he encounters. He also means it as a compliment; the fatter you are, the more delicious you appear."

Medb grunted, still sore, but she planted the butt of the spear on the rock floor and leaned on it like a staff. "His hospitality leaves something to be desired," she replied crossly.

"What were you expecting?" the teacher boomed like rolling thunder.

"Where I come from," she explained, "it is expected that guests will be received with welcome, and given food and drink, beds for the night with companions if they desire it, but above all protection."

"I did not invite you," it countered.

But Medb replied, "That is irrelevant; honor demands that one be generous with his wealth, and that in turn requires that one give of himself freely, even to his most hated enemy."

"That is a very strange concept," it evaluated; then it turned its attention to Cuideog, even though it made no change in its position. "You are correct; she is a most unusual morsel indeed."

"Have I ever given you bad counsel?" the little spider replied, a trifle miffed.

The teacher shifted its attention back to former queen. "You are welcome in my domain, Mayv Hairrain of Ulthar, you and all who accompany you. I regret that I cannot offer you food or drink or 'companionship', but Cuideog will conduct you to a shelter where you may sleep safely. And I shall declare you sacrosanct when next my students gather for their lessons, for whatever protection that is worth. I shall see you again, before you leave here, and we can talk some more of your notion of hospitality and other equally strange ideas." And with that the face dropped below the ridge out of sight. Medb had no desire to see more of the teacher.

"Come," Cuideog said, "I will take you to the shelter my patron spoke of."

"One moment," Medb objected, "what did it mean by 'sacrosanct', and 'for whatever it is worth'?"

"Being sacrosanct makes you are off-limits for hunting. Ideally, that means the students cannot eat you, but in reality if they can catch you at a time when you are vulnerable, they will kill you. And being sacrosanct does not protect you from my patron himself. You are, however, free to defend yourself without fear of retribution. I have no doubt you can do so adequately; just keep on your guard."

Medb again grunted, but she made no further comment as she gathered up the reins to the yaks.

+ + + + +

Cuideog led Medb and her party to another tunnel that opened onto a path that wound down the side of the crag under the sheet of webbing that covered it. The path took them to the floor of the valley, where a web funnel gave them access to the interior. Cuideog, having climbed down the rock-face ahead of them, met them at the base of the path and led them along the foot of the crag to where the entrance to the "shelter" was. It turned out to be a pleasant surprise. It was a cave with three cells in the back, one of which was large enough to stable the yaks. The doorway into the cave was narrow, and while it was wide enough for the yaks to squeeze through in single-file, no spider could get in, not even Cuideog, for while his body was smaller than a yak's, his legs were splayed out so far that he could not fit through. Additionally, it could be closed off by a trapdoor made from a thick, heavy slab of strong stone. It was moved by a system of counter weights, but could be disconnected from them on the inside, thereby effectively locking it against all intruders.

The main chamber was well furnished. There was a spring-fed pool, deep enough to lay submerged in. The water was several degrees warmer than Medb's body temperature, comfortable enough to bathe in yet not so hot as to be undrinkable. There was a fireplace, complete with chimney, and beside it a niche for wood. In front of it sat a couple of padded chairs, while a small wooden table with three plain chairs stood at the apex of a triangle formed with the hearth and pool. Between the pool and the table stood a tall cabinet, while on the opposite side of the fireplace from the wood niche lay a wooden chest. The second largest cell served as a bedroom, with a canopy bed, another padded chair, and another chest, while the third, smallest cell was meant for relieving oneself when necessary.

There was no straw in the stable, but Cuideog gave her bails of soft woolen silk that would absorb moisture just as well. He also provided wood for her fire. In the bedroom chest were blankets, towels, and other linens — all made from various forms of silk — while the chest beside the fireplace contained utensils, crockery, cooking pots, and other housekeeping paraphernalia.

"How often does you patron entertain human guests?" she had asked Cuideog at one point.

"The sorcerers of Lelag-Leng are frequent visitors, as are various personages of more dubious reputations from the southern lands. Up until several years ago, a necromancer named Irrlicht the Black had come twice, sometimes three times a year. Barzai the Wise, and after him his apprentice Atal, had visited often in years past, though Atal has not come around for many decades now. Before them, I heard there had been a wizard from the Waking World, one Abdul Alhazred, and before him a Dreamlands wizard named Morbius. Even King Kuranes, accompanied by his stalwarts David Hero and Eldin the Wanderer, visited once, and it has been rumored that Randolph Carter consulted with him when the Great Dreamer sought Kadath in the Cold Waste and the citadel of the Great Ones."

Medb had been impressed in spite of herself. "He seems rather sociable for a spider."

"Truth be told," Cuideog had confided, "I believe he enjoys the company of morsels, though he would never admit it. That he is willing to meet and talk with you is in fact a great honor. It means you have gained his respect. Is there anything else I can get for you?"

"If your patron has a mug, I would appreciate some company in my bed tonight," she had replied, half facetiously.

"I am not familiar with that term," he had said.

"A bondman," she had replied, and when the runtish spider did not respond right away, she explained, "A male slave, to share my bed."

She imagined Cuideog would have grinned if he could. "Alas, I regret to say that you must satisfy yourself with your memories."

Medb had made no reply, and Cuideog left her shortly after that. She closed and locked the trapdoor behind him, started a fire, took a long, leisurely bath (during which she pleasured herself), then fixed herself and her companions something to eat, before finally retiring for the evening. Yet all the while she contemplated what Cuideog had said. She actually lay awake on her back in the bed for some hours thinking about it. She had been pleased with the spider lord's invitation, but now it seemed incongruous to her that it should want her company. After all, it knew little about her other than what Cuideog had told it. She started wondering just what the little spider had told it, and how he had learned it. She also began to suspect that he might have had an ulterior motive for meeting up with her, and in bringing her here. As she meditated further, she finally concluded that her being here was itself no happenstance, that the clever heraldic spider had somehow manipulated her, and had easily done so with grand finesse. For exactly what reason would undoubtedly reveal itself in good time, but at least now she was sufficiently forewarned that she could be watchful for any future machinations on the part of Cuideog and his patron. With that, she rolled over onto her stomach, pulled the blanket made of wool-like silk over her head, and passed into sleep.

The next morning, Medb decided to explore the area of the spider lord's domain immediately outside her shelter. Her companions did not volunteer to accompany her, and she did not ask them to, but neither did they try to talk her out of it; they knew such an effort would be futile. So, after stoking the glowing coals alight into a fresh blaze, taking another bath, and eating a light breakfast, she unlocked the trapdoor and set out for her tour, though not before instructing Conaed on how to operate the counterweight mechanism.

She had not bothered to dress, aside from her headband, neckring, and belt, though she did put on a pair of shoes, and she only took the dirk and one fighting spear. She walked back to the foot of the path, then went through the funnel and out into the valley. She was not sure what she would see, but she had imagined a landscape essentially normal in form, but wrapped in swathes of silk. She was not disappointed, but her imagination had fallen short of reality. It resembled nothing so much as a land made from glass crystal. The ground was covered by a tightly-woven mat, thick, yet unyielding, more like a plaster flooring than a blanket. It followed the contours of the uneven ground, the rock outcroppings, and the stumps and fallen trunks of long-dead trees exactly, as if they had been coated with paint rather than just covered over by a sheet. Anchored to this foundation were many cyclopean struts that stretched from the floor of the valley to one of its walls. These crisscrossed the entire space between the walls from one end of the valley to the other, and were supported by smaller but still gigantic spans that crossed between the struts. This construction in turn served as the scaffolding that held up the roof sheet and supported more delicate web-structures that filled the middle space between the roof and the floor. Embedded in these webs were masses and globules of silk of various sizes, looking like cocoons. Most appeared shriveled and angular, as if they contained chunks of debris, but some were fuller and rounder, and one, Medb discovered as she peered more intently at it, was moving, as if something inside was squirming.

It was then that Medb realized with a shock what she was seeing. The roof sheet almost certainly served as a form of camouflage, but its primary purpose was as a trap, to fool prey into thinking it was solid ground and then to walk out on it, only to fall through at a weak spot into the webbing below, where it would become ensnared. No doubt the spider lord put bait out on the sheet at certain places to catch shantaks and other large flying creatures; no doubt places in the roof were themselves sticky to catch prey not heavy enough to fall through. The trapped creatures could then be easily paralyzed and wrapped for storage, to be eaten at leisure later.

A shadow fell over her; startled, she crouched, holding her spear ready, as she looked up in apprehension. It was the spider lord itself, but it was far too high to bother with her even if it could see her. It was moving along the spans and struts, inspecting its larder, occasionally removing a desiccated bundle, occasionally pressing its mouth against another as it injected more saliva to digest the contents or sucked up the soup that had formed from previous treatments. It resembled Cuideog, except that it was far larger, and its abdomen was rounder and more bloated. The mottled purple was duller than the bardic spider's vivid hue, while the indigo coloration of the lace-pattern that defined the mottling and dyed the legs and the underside of the cephalothorax was darker, almost black. From this distance it seemed less intimidating, though still imposing; or perhaps Medb had just adjusted to seeing it. She couldn't be sure which was true, but she still received an impression of immense power that was equal parts physical and metaphysical. She knew little about the abilities of ordinary spiders, much less giants like these, yet it often puzzled her how even one as large of Cuideog could move around so easily, never mind one as huge as his patron. She suspected there was something about the nature of the Dreamworld that somehow made it possible, perhaps through sheer force of will. In any event, it wasn't a concept she intended to pursue at that time, but she would be interested to hear what thoughts her friend Aislinn Síle the Sage might have on the subject.

She spent several hours exploring, walking in ever-expanding arcs out from the funnel. There was no vegetation to speak of, save for a number of unusual fungal growths, some of which she took samples of for later study. Surprisingly, however, there were animals. Normal sized spiders abounded, and they feasted on a host of crawling and flying insects similar to but significantly different from those she was more familiar with. There were also birds, most of which were unfamiliar and as small or smaller than sparrows, but she did spot the occasional raven, possibly having flown in through one or another tunnel in the valley walls. She saw small lizards that probably lived under the floor mat among the rocks, and in pools formed by captured rain water or springs running out of the walls there were large numbers of frogs. The only mammal she found was a kind of rodent that resembled a short-tailed, pot-bellied rat, but it was the largest animal in the domain, being as big as Crème. No doubt it served as the primary prey for the students.

Speaking of which, she did not encounter any of them, save one, but she knew they were out there around her, following her but keeping out of sight. She couldn't be sure if one of them was the chief student, but she doubted it would be too far away once it heard she was out and about. The one that she did run across must have been waiting in ambush by one of the pools for a fat-rat to visit for a drink, because even as she approached the water it leapt out at her. Using her spear as a staff, she pole-vaulted out of its way, and when it landed and started to turn towards her to leap again, she got the butt of the weapon under its body and deftly flipped it over onto its back. She quickly left as it flailed its legs, struggling to right itself, but when a short time later she startled one of the fat-rats out of a burrow in the floor mat, she quickly stunned it with a whack on its head with the flat of the blade, then picked it up by the scruff of its neck and carried it back to the pool. The student was nowhere to be seen, but as soon as she threw the now-awake and struggling rodent by the shore it leapt out of hiding onto it and bit it. It then held its meal down while it waited for its venom to paralyze the animal. Medb did not remain to watch it eat, but as she turned to go it looked to her as if the student waved its pedipalps at her in a salute. It was only half as large as Cuideog and was probably the smallest of the group; it acted like it was starving, and perhaps she reflected it was, being as it had to watch out for the larger students while it hunted for itself. She took pity on it then, and made three more return trips over a period of a half hour, finding and catching fat-rats which she then took back to the pool.

She returned to the shelter by mid-afternoon, having caught and killed two more rodents for herself and her companions. She skinned and gutted them a short distance from the entrance to the funnel before carrying them the rest of the way, being grateful they were not riddled with worms or other parasites. Even as she approached the trapdoor she heard Crème yowling; when she reached it, it opened up to reveal Conaed working the mechanism and the cat and Teehar waiting just behind the threshold. They cried out their welcome joyously and, or so it seemed to Medb, with great relief. She laid one of the carcasses on a platter and placed it by the hearth for her companions to eat, then cut up the other for a stew for herself; the remains of both she then dropped down the latrine hole. She bathed as her meal cooked, and had just dried herself off when she heard a scratch at the trapdoor. She took a moment to retrieve her sword, then opened the portal.

It turned out to be Cuideog. Since Medb could not invite him inside, she stepped outside, though she kept hold of the sword.

"I heard you did some exploring today," he remarked, with a bit of wry humor. "Were you impressed?"

"Yes," Medb said with all honesty. "It reminds me of certain sídhe palaces in the Magh Mór, though this is far more grandiose while being far less baroque. More vermin-ridden as well."

"And you had no problems with the students?"

"Just one, and we came to an accommodation."

"I heard about that as well, but he isn't a student. The domains of large sedentary spiders are often ideal places for juveniles to hide out, provided they can avoid the resident. There is often plenty of food, especially if the resident is experimenting with domesticating some form of prey, and fewer dangers. The residents usually leave younglings alone, at least until they grow large enough to become a threat, or are especially dull-witted or handicapped in some fashion. Those that squat within a teacher's domain often become students in their turn, when they are big enough to hold their own against the students already in residence. I have been keeping my eyes on that one; he seems to be smarter than most younglings of his size, but I am waiting for him to prove himself able to survive."

"Why not help him, teach him to be a better hunter, get food to him when he needs it?"

"The torah clearly states that every spider must prove his right to earn survival, and even the talmud does not allow for any alternatives."

"But surely it would do no harm to aid a promising youngster now and then."

Cuideog drummed the ground with his pedipalps in annoyance. "I did not come here to debate the rules of our society. I bear a message from my patron. He wishes to see you and your companions this evening. I am to escort you to the place of instruction."

"Now?"

"No, you will have time to eat first. Say in a few hours; I will fetch you then." He then turned to leave, but hesitated at the last minute. "Do me one favor," he added, turning back towards her a short ways; "get dressed. My patron may like talking to morsels, but the less delicious you look, the safer you will be. Oh, and you may bring weapons if you wish, not that they would do you much good." And with that he scuttled off.

+ + + + +

The place of instruction turned out to be a circular hollow with a small, low knoll in the middle of it. It was encased in a dome of cables supported by flying buttresses and covered in webbing. Inside, the webbing was coated with tiny creatures that each glowed with a pale, yellowish-green light. Individually the light was weak, but together they created an incandescence almost as bright as a sunny day.

Medb entered riding on the back of Cuideog's cephalothorax. She sat cross-legged between his legs, with Crème lying in her lap, Teehar perched on her head, and Conaed on one shoulder. As instructed to do so, she dressed, but for once she took pains to make herself presentable. After eating (the fat-rat tasted surprisingly good, like pheasant), she had bathed again, this time untying the braids that hung down her front from either side of head, so that she could wash her gold-tinged bronze hair. She then brushed it until it shined and retied the braids, weaving a half-dozen small gold balls into each tip, finally slipping on a headband made from the finest silvered bronze. Next she put on a pair of soft leather slippers decorated with filigree sewn from gold, silver, and copper thread. Though all three of the dresses she carried with her had the same design, being a single-piece gown secured at the shoulders by cloth ties, with long sleeves and a smooth, ankle-length skirt, there was one that was a gift from her friend Scylla the Hetaira, made of silk dyed a sea-foam green and ornately embroidered with gold and platinum thread around the neckline, sleeve cuffs, and skirt hem. Around her waist she fastened a thin belt woven from wires of platinum and yellow-gold and decorated with finely-cut, thumbnail-sized stones of blue topaz and green tsavorite. She took the time to paint her eyebrows jet black, her lips crimson, and her nails scarlet, before wrapping one of her two five-fold woolen cloaks around her shoulders. Both were identical, being charcoal gray with coal-black plaid stripes, but she secured this one with a brooch of red-gold instead of the one of bronze that she normally used. The only other ornament she wore was her neckring that she rarely removed: a heavy torc of twisted yellow-gold, open at her throat, with the ends capped by large, uncut red gems. She took none of her weapons, not even the dirk or a fighting spear; she would have considered such to be a breach of etiquette even if they were permitted. When Cuideog came to collect her, she raised a fold of the cloak over her head, collected her friends, and went out to meet him.

Standing atop the knoll was the spider lord, in full glory. Looking up at him as Cuideog descended the slope of the hollow to the base of the knoll, Medb felt the same apprehension and sense of power as the previous times she saw him. Yet with the surprise gone as well as much of the mystery, he no longer seemed intimidating. In fact, as close as she was, she could see the signs of extreme old age in him. Having no scale of measurement, she could not even guess his age, but if he knew Morbius, even if it was in his youth, he had to be at least ten thousand years old. And Cuideog had stated he was not the oldest. Medb had no standard by which to judge the longevity of any Leng spider, but being as she herself was nearly fifteen hundred years old, and she had not the power the spider lord possessed, being some six times as old did not seem farfetched.

"Thank you for coming, Mayv Hairrain of Ulthar," the huge spider boomed. "Come, join me, if you have the nerve."

Medb couldn't help laughing at the barb; the presumption of this monster, that she should actually fear it, was more comical than insulting. She picked up Crème and slid off Cuideog's back, but before she started up she addressed her companions:

"I intend to show this overgrown bug that I have no more concern for him than the normal spiders I squash under my heel —" she looked at Cuideog; he was as expressionless as ever and he made no change in his position, yet she still got the feeling he was looking askance at her "— but I understand you may feel differently. If any of you wish to stay behind with Cuideog, you may do so with no fear of censure from me."

"Lady," said Conaed on her shoulder, as calm as ever, "I have no intention of missing an opportunity such as this," and indeed there sounded like a tinge of excitement in his voice. Medb understood then that he was about to do what no other Zoog had ever done before.

"Madam," said Crème, "as envoy for Her Most Serene Feline Majesty, I would be remiss in my duties if I did not accompany you, but I prefer to walk under my own power." His voice reflected his nervousness, yet Medb could sense his determination to go through with this. While never did he show any sign of cowardice, he nonetheless had come a long way since she first met him over two years ago, and she was proud of him. She set him down at her feet and he moved to a position beside her.

"Mistress," Teehar said, "I don't want to leave you, but I am frightened." And indeed, the fear was palpable in his voice.

"You eat spiders, do you not?" she asked him.

"Yes, Mistress, of course."

"Are you afraid of them?"

Teehar ruffled his feathers indignantly. "Of course not!"

"He is no different, except bigger. Think of him as an especially large meal."

"Yes, Mistress." The bird did not sound too convinced, but he trusted her to protect him, so he was willing to go with her.

"Very well, let us go together; will you accompany us, Cuideog?"

"If it is all the same to you," the little spider replied, "I prefer to stay out of reach."

"I will protect you," she countered.

Cuideog was about to decline again, when he realized that Medb was testing him. Why he could not be sure, but he decided that it would be best for the time being to humor her. Shrugging to feign nonchalance, he said, "Very well," and he started up the slope. Medb took a moment to hike up her skirt and tuck the folds into her belt before following him. The steepness of the climb required that she use her hands as well as her feet, but she made the trip with little effort, and soon stood before the spider lord. His face towered so far over her that his chelicerae could just brush the top of her head, and she got an unobstructed view of his gigantic black fangs. Nonetheless, she took the time to pull the folds of her skirt from her belt and smooth out the fabric before addressing him.

"I am honored by your favor, Rígomun," she said, bowing before him, though careful not to dislodge Conaed. Teehar merely hovered above her until she straightened up.

"I do not understand that word," the spider lord stated.

"In the language of my father's people, it means Awe-inspiring King. Permit me to introduce my companions. Teehar'owan, my techt and dercaid; Conaed, called Runt, my fili and bard; and Crèmedevoyageur, special envoy to Her Most Serene Feline Majesty, the High Queen of Cats."

"Ah, yes," the huge arachnid addressed Crème, "please give my regards to Her Majesty when next you see her."

The young tomcat stared at him in wide-eyed astonishment. "You know the Queen?" "Indeed. In her youth she was a bold adventurer, and visited me on several occasions." Crème could make no reply, but he began to purr with pride. "Tell me," the spider lord directed at Medb, "is it true that you blasted a spider to ash a couple of days ago?"

Medb gave Cuideog a sidelong glance, and his pedipalps twitched nervously, but she directed her answer to Rígomun. "As your own techt and bard has no doubt told you the tale of our adventures, your question strikes me as being pedantic," she replied, a bit testy.

"How did you acquire such power?"

"My master of sorcery was unusually skilled in thaumaturgy, particularly the power of words."

"Is that all he taught you?"

The faintest of wry smiles played about her lips. "Let us just say that I learned more from him than he thought he was teaching me."

"Such as?"

"Such as divination, alchemy, necromancy, demonology . . . would you like a full curriculum vitae?" Cuideog marveled at her control over her irritation.

"Is sorcery the only field you are proficient in?"

"By no means," she replied. "I am skilled in Druidry, herbal medicine and nature lore, metaphysics and hyperdimensional geometry, mysticism, lyricism, and piseaguai."

Rígomun directed his attention to Cuideog. "I believe you are correct; she should be able to render us the aid we need."

Before either spider could continue, Medb declared, "Then perhaps you had better explain what your crisis is."

Cuideog jerked his pedipalps in surprise while the spider lord glowered at the little spider. "He told me nothing," Medb stated, "beyond the cover story that he bore you a message from one of your colleagues on your governing council. As he expected, my curiosity was piqued, which was sufficient to get me to accompany him here. I deduced the rest."

"Tell me how," Rígomun demanded.

"While I do not doubt that the duties which he described are real, I do not find it plausible that he would deliberately seek me out, as he claims, so that we could travel together for mutual protection. He obviously has heard stories about my physical and magical prowess, but he had no way of knowing whether they were true. Why would he thus expose himself to danger when he could rely on his own abilities as he always had before? The only logical answer was that he wanted to find out more about me, to see if the stories were true."

Cuideog made no comment. What could he say, it was all true. He could try to deny it, but there was no reason to now.

"But Madam," Crème objected, "he invited us to see his master the same evening he first found us."

"True," Medb confirmed, "he needed to make sure we would accompany him from the start. He could have abandoned us at any time had he decided I did not live up to my reputation."

"Perceptive," the spider lord said, but Medb shrugged.

"I was not sure my deduction was correct until Cuideog risked his life to protect us from your students in the tunnel. It would have been more prudent to flee, unless he needed us alive for some special task he believed only we could perform."

"Your reasoning is sound," Rígomun conceded.

"Then it is high time that you explain what you want me to do."

"Very well. To understand that, however, you must know something of the history of our race. Cuideog, would you please tell her the story?"

"Yes, master. First off, are you aware that spiders were among the very first creatures to populate the land?"

"I am not," she replied politely, though she wondered at his strange question.

"Indeed, we as a race have existed for over five hundred thousand millennia. We were the undisputed masters of the Dreamlands until the rise of the Men of Leng ten thousand millennia ago."

"Spiders can dream?" Conaed asked. The tone of his voice was the closest to awe Medb had ever heard from him.

"It was through dreaming that we acquired the ability to reason, even as it was for cats and men."

"Do not get sidetracked," Rígomun chided his bard.

"Sorry, master. Because of our racial longevity, we have witnessed the appearance of each new race that followed us. We observed the arrival of the Great Race and the Xothians, and the rise of the People of the Ocean's Abyss and of the Serpent. There were, however, races that had proceeded us. One was the Elder Things, the primordial entities who had ruled the Waking World since its inception. As always, they had their servants, the shoggoths, in their cities, whether on land or in the oceans. Neither the Ancient Beings nor their creations could dream, so while we avoided them in the Waking World, we lived and acted as we pleased in the Lands of Dream.

"It was not to be for long. Two hundred and fifty thousand millennia after our inception and Great Awakening, the shoggoths rebelled against the Old Race, and the masters fought a terrible war with their servants. The world was devastated, and even the Primordial Ones were reduced in stature from where they had once been, but once they had prevailed, those shoggoths who had not fled into exile among the Ocean People or been destroyed had used the knowledge they had stolen from their masters and escaped into other worlds. One came here. It hid in the tunnels beneath the Plateau of Leng. Over time it grew large and strong feeding on bholes and spiders, and it began to open gates to the other worlds, including the Waking World. It brought more of its kind into the Dreamlands, and it made contact with other entities, including great Mnomquah imprisoned under the ruins of Sarkomand, who taught it much that it did not already know. With this knowledge it led its fellows out of the tunnels and they tried to overrun the Lands of Dream. We spiders fought them, but while we outnumbered them at least a hundred to one, we could prevail against them only with great difficulty. In time only the leader was left, but even the combined might of the last dozen spiders could not defeat it. It was then that the oldest and wisest of us called on Nyarlathotep and asked Him the secret of defeating the shoggoth. The Crawling Chaos agreed to tell him, for a price, which the wise one agreed to pay. He then lured the shoggoth into a pit and there fought him to a standstill. With the shoggoth immobilized, he wove the spell that the Mighty Messenger had taught him and succeeded in imprisoning it. The surviving spiders then sealed the pit, trapping both victor and vanquished, they hoped forever."

"What was the price he was required to pay?"

"We do not know," Rígomun admitted, "but legend has it that it was so terrible the wise one decided it was best if he was imprisoned with the shoggoth."

"What was the nature of the geis he used?"

"That word means nothing to me," the spider lord stated tersely.

"Geis can have a number of meanings; in this case, it is synonymous with magical spell."

"Then why not just say so? Again, we do not know, except that it involved a sigil of tremendous power."

"I take it something has changed; is the geis weakening?"

"It would seem likely," Cuideog speculated. "The wise one had explained that there would be portents warning us should the ward begin to fail. All have come to pass within the last few years. Yet there are few who take them seriously. To the overwhelming vast majority of our race, including a majority of the council, the Tale of the Battle Between the Wise One and the Shoggoth Lord is epic myth, nothing more. Those exceedingly few who take the threat credibly believe that only knowledge of the spell of Nyarlathotep can halt the coming catastrophe, and none wish to pay the price to acquire that knowledge."

"There are even those," Rígomun broke in, "who argue that we should form an alliance with the shoggoth, so that we might rule the whole of the Dreamlands again as we once did."

Medb shook her head in disgust. "Seogota do not make deals with those they consider inferior."

"Yet there are those who would risk it."

"Why? What could possibly drive them to take such a desperate measure?"

"We are a race under siege," the spider lord explained in a resigned tone. "Our domains within the Plateau of Leng cannot adequately support us. To survive we need to expand, to claim new domains rich with prey. Yet we cannot, for no matter in which direction we travel, there are obstacles. To the east, the Men of Leng are too numerous, and their masters the Moonbeasts too strong, for us to claim more of the plateau. Were we to travel north, we would starve or freeze to death; south, the ocean blocks us; west, the nations of human men stand in our way. And we are not numerous enough to mount a full-scale invasion. So we remain, and we get by as best we can."

"What do you eat, if the plateau cannot provide for your needs?"

"The largest of us take shantaks and other fell creatures; the strongest among us raid the Leng Men villages; the cleverest trade for yaks and other beasts of burden, or human captives. But mostly, we feed on each other. Even then, our numbers tend to swell, until they become so great that our younglings spill out into the surrounding lands, looking for new territory. This happens once every twenty years, give or take a season, and is such a regular event that most of us calculate our ages based on how many migrations we have seen."

"And none of these migrations have ever established your race in another location?"

"Not that we have been able to discover. The younglings are even less prepared to survive in the outside world than more experienced adults, and as regular as they are, the Men of Leng and the humans know when to expect them, and prepare for the onslaught. A few spiders can manage to escape detection for a short while, but once they claim a domain and become sedentary, they are easy to find and kill. Some have braved the dangers of the catacombs under the plateau to escape to other worlds; others started a colony in the underworld, but were so profoundly changed by their new environment that we on the surface have cut off all contact with them. A few of us have learned how to spin gates, but so far the worlds they have opened onto are too alien for us to tolerate, or expose us to horrors that can drive even us mad. And there have been those who have made deals with Nyarlathotep and have allowed him to take them to the outer spheres, but those willing to pay his terrible price are the rarest of the rare."

"Why not domesticate cattle for your use?"

"Many of us have tried, throughout our history, but our basic natures are against us. Most have decimated their own herds in a feeding frenzy, while those disciplined enough to resist have seen their herds eaten by their students, or lost during a migration. Yet even if we were to succeed, food is secondary to our main problem: we are solitary and territorial, a bad combination; we need living room more than we need food, but the only way we can acquire it is to expand beyond our present borders."

"I heard that you almost succeeded in establishing a colony in the Six Kingdoms."

Cuideog clapped his chelicerae together, clicking his fangs against one another. Medb interpreted it as the spider equivalent of a snort. "The claim is exaggerated," he retorted. "The plan was to create a monopoly on trade in spider silk for clothing, thereby making the kingdoms' economies dependent upon it. The colony would have followed in due course to clandestinely supply silk locally, and it would have been expanded as the surrounding lands became dependent on our silk as well. We were counting on greed to keep the other nations of men from destroying our colony even as we took control of the whole of the kingdoms, by which time it would then be too late to dislodge us. Unfortunately, we were not able to create a monopoly, so the plan was abandoned."

"We cannot expand by force," Rígomun clarified, "so we must do so by stealth and trickery."

"But you are afraid some of your people want to form an alliance with the seogot so that they will have the strength to expand by force," Medb stated rhetorically.

"Indeed," the spider lord confirmed gravely. "That is why we seek your help. We need you to strengthen the spell the wise one used, or failing that to weave a new one in its place."

Medb grunted. "I would think you would welcome the aid of the seogot."

"There are three reasons why we should not. We are barely able to share power amongst ourselves; how would we do so with such an alien creature? And as you yourself observed, shoggoths do not share power with those they consider weaker than themselves. It would only be a matter of time before we would fight for dominance. More importantly, however, the price for that strength is all too high."

"Why? What is it?"

"The best way to answer your question is to show you. Come with me." And with that the spider lord turned ponderously full about and started down the knoll.

"Climb back on," Cuideog instructed Medb. She complied, sitting down, and caught Crème as he jumped into her lap. On the backside of the knoll was an earthen ramp, so the descent was not as steep as the ascent, but Cuideog still took his time so as not to dislodge his passengers. Once back on level ground, however, he quickened his pace to catch up with his master, who, despite his slow gait, nonetheless covered a great distance very quickly with each stride of his hugely long legs.

The trip took longer than Medb expected; about an hour, she calculated. Rígomun took them deep into the heart of his domain, almost to its exact center. There they found a structure that resembled an open-ended barn, except it was cyclopean. Even the spider lord himself was dwarfed by it. It was constructed of pillars woven from strands as thick as Medb's thighs, and were sealed with a kind of webbing that looked like iridescent, translucent marble. The roof was supported by high, vaulted arches that crisscrossed from the top of one pillar to another opposite it. Between the pillars the walls were made from web netting, plastered with the same marble-like webbing. It reminded Medb of the cathedrals she had seen in Celephais and Serranian, as well as certain other cities scattered around the Dreamlands.

Yet where the altar would have been lay instead a gigantic globe, secured by web cables to the floor and the closest pillars. It was twice the volume of Rígomun himself, and appeared to be made out of a kind of crystalline material. It wasn't until they all got closer that Medb realized that here, too, silken webbing had been used to construct it. She marveled at the versatility of spider silk, that it could form so many different kinds of material and be put to so many uses.

As such, it took her a few moments to realize that the globe was not empty. What she thought was an illusion caused by deeper layers refracting light turned out to be a shadow as it moved. She could not see much more than that, but Cuideog gestured towards a spot about head-high. "You can look inside there," he explained, and indeed Medb found a pane of what looked like thick glass, though she suspected that this too was some form of webbing.

Despite the milky-frost shading in the outer skin, the interior of the globe appeared brighter than she expected, possibly because what light did get through was trapped inside and concentrated off the inner surface. So Medb was able to see the inhabitant clearly. It was a spider, at least at first glance. As she studied it, however, she quickly discerned various anomalies that made her blood run cold. Its skin varied from hard chitin to soft flesh, and in places what looked like jelly, covered with patches of scales, fur, and feathers that haphazardly alternated with sections that were bare. It had the standard eight legs, but only one that she could see looked normal; the rest were of various other forms, including a human leg. In place of the pedipalps were limbs, one of which resembled a human arm that terminated in a claw like a crab's, the other being a tentacle. The chelicerae looked normal, as did the fangs, but at one point a forked tongue slithered out between them for a moment, tasting the air. She was even startled to see a pair of rudimentary bat-like wings sprouting from the junction between the cephalothorax and the abdomen.

There were more than the usual eight eyes, arranged chaotically around the cephalothorax, only a few of which were spider eyes; the rest represented various types of human and animals eyes, including the compound eyes of insects. At first, the captive seemed oblivious to her observation, and she began to suspect it may have been imbecilic. Then, one of the human eyes appeared to focus on her. A moment later the other eyes began to regard her as well, and it was with deep shock that she realized they were not simply turning in sockets, but actually moving over the body to collect together in one place. Another human eye, much larger than the first, actually detached itself — socket, lids, lashes, and all — from the body and extended towards her on a thin stalk. It came forward until it reached the glass portal, and woman and eyeball stared at each other for several moments, until the eyeball blinked.

Unnerved, Medb stepped back from the globe. "Anam naofa bheith ionam," she muttered under her breath.

"What?" Cuideog asked, unable to understand her native Erin tongue, but Rígomun rumbled, "You understand," in a supremely satisfied tone. Had he been able to smile he would have done so.

"It is a gáo-seogot," she confirmed, and her voice broke on the third syllable.

Cuideog drummed his pedipalps nervously. He didn't like the idea that there was anything that could frighten this profoundly self-confident woman. "What is that?"

"A gáo-seogot is a normal creature whose tissues have been converted to something much like that of a seogot. It has the same plasticity of a seogot, but it is limited to its own original body mass. It also has the same strengths and invulnerabilities as a seogot, though it is more susceptible to fire and acid."

"How do you know this?" the bardic spider inquired with trepidation.

"One of the many projects Elatha worked on was the secret of creating a seogot. It was one of the few projects he failed to accomplish, but he did succeed in learning to create gáoda-seogota."

At the sound of her words, Rígomun jerked his pedipalps in surprise. Medb, who had her back to the spider lord, didn't see his reaction, but Cuideog had and he understood the import of it. "Who is this 'Ehluhuh'?"

"He was the wizard from whom I learned my sorcery."

"Did you work with him on this project?"

"I assisted him," she replied cautiously, then added, "I also read his grimoires without his knowledge."

"Is there a cure for this conversion?"

"No," she said, "the process is irreversible. It also warps the mind, so even if the body could be changed back, the creature would no longer be the same as it was before the transformation."

"Is there a way to destroy this abomination?" Rígomun thundered.

Medb turned and eyed the great spider with suspicion, but she replied, "Yes, there is a solvent that can dissolve its tissues. It has no effect on a true seogot, but it can kill a gáo-seogot."

The spider lord lowered his body until his humungous forward eyes were more level with her head. "Can you prepare it?"

Medb stared into those eyes, at her dim reflection set against their black depths. "Yes," was all she said.

"Then do so," he ordered her.

She shook her head. "I would not be able to here. I would need special equipment and glassware, chemicals and other ingredients, a proper workspace. The closest place where I might be able to accomplish it is Inganok; I know I can do it back in Lelag-Leng —"

Rígomun raised himself back to his full height. "We cannot spare the travel time," the spider lord interrupted, "and it is imperative that you do it here. We can provide you with all you need."

"Impossible," Medb declared, adamant.

The gargantuan arachnid flexed his fangs, and droplets of venom the size of her head formed at each tip. "You will do as you are told, morsel, if you wish to leave this valley alive."

Medb narrowed her eyes. "Do not threaten me, bug," she said in a low even voice, but as she spoke the air around her became so strongly charged as if by electricity that her hair, including her braids, rose into the air and floated around her head. Teehar piped in alarm and took off from the top of her head, while Crème yowled in consternation and dashed from her side to hide under Cuideog. Only Conaed on her shoulder seemed undisturbed, and his eyes flashed as if lightning was reflected within them.

"Mayv, please!" Cuideog pleaded. "Fighting won't accomplish anything. We can provide everything you need, trust me."

Medb turned to look at him, and he cringed at the sight of her: her eyes were glowing, as St. Elmo's Fires play through her hair, and her head was framed by a halo of actinic blue. Raising and spreading his pedipalps in supplication, he admitted, "Yes, I deceived you about why I contacted you, and why I wanted to travel with you, but I have never lied to you. Please, we are desperate!"

"You are persuasive," Medb complimented him, as the pyrotechnics faded and the charge around her dissipated. "Very well, I will cooperate, but I can make no promises."

"How long will it take you to make your solvent?" Rígomun asked.

Turning to glance up at him, she answered, "A week, at least, if we are lucky."

+ + + + +

To be continued