For a few heartbeats, Eany was certain she was going to die. The tunnel vanished above her, the plagued spider writhed in the air beside her, and the black, unseen floor was just waiting to turn her bones to dust inside her amore. Memories flashed through her mind faster then blinking, regrets and satisfactions, and her place in the world.

I did my best, Cereth. Thanks for the second chance.

The spider exploded, its innards glowering from the sheer power of the magic that had killed it. In the horrible plague light of its demise, Eany saw hills of rocks and thousands of gleaming strands weaved between them, pathways and nests, webs and traps.

But no spiders.

And then she landed, and she knew the moment she wasn't dead that she was done for. Pieces of dead spider landed in the web that had caught her, and the vibrations from those much smaller impacts were obvious to her. There was no chance the creatures designed to sense vibrations had missed her hitting the web.

It all happened so quickly, Metcenzerin's cry was still echoing around the cavern. Eany didn't make a sound. Whether they knew something had been caught in their web or not, it was very possible the disturbance in the tunnel would draw attention away from her. If that was the case, she didn't want to do anything to draw attention back.

Slowly, gently, she tried to raise her arm. Despite the suddenness of the fall, her grip on her sword had never loosened. She still had her gear... technically. But the droplets that lined the web refused to let her raise the sword, barely giving at all before yanking her back down.

Stay calm. Think carefully. How do you destroy spiderwebs?

She kept mostly still, gently testing the limits of her movement but wary of getting herself further entangled. Her mind was racing, though. Fruitlessly. Other then the brute force of sheer size difference, she couldn't think of anything that could break a spiderweb. And for once, size was not on her side against the creepy vermin.

The web trembled beneath her, and this time it wasn't her own movement that caused it.

Cereth, please... not like this.

“Don't glare at me, Stitchy, he was your patient. Besides, I was trying to save Eany.”

The Stitchdoctor said nothing, but his black lenses never left Metcenzerin's face as he carefully wiped spider remnant off his knife.

“Kwanai was closer, anyway, so why aren't you glaring at him?”

Kwanai didn't acknowledge the accusation, but peered down the tunnel with a thoughtful scowl.

“Someone else had better say something, or I'll just go after Eany and let you two kill each other,” Metcenzerin finally snapped, thoroughly frustrated. He tugged at his tied-together ropes, testing the knots and the jagged rock he had tied it around.

“There is no point in pursuing the hunter now,” Kwanai said finally. “There were no other paths on our way here, only above us where they can tread and we cannot. Let down your rope. Whether she lives or not, her body, at least, we can reach.”

“Do you absolutely have to be so creepy?”

Kwanai's slow, gleaming stare was the only response offered or required.

Metcenzerin cursed under his breath and tossed his knotted rope “ladder” over the edge. “Teru is really pushing it. Giant Circle-forsaken spiders aren't even remotely fun,” he muttered.

“Fun?” the Stitchdoctor inquired harshly. “Traps, rabbits, bard... those were fun?”

“Maybe not for us, but for Teru? Ah, forget it. You wouldn't understand even if I did explain.”

“Muscles, ligaments, attached to bones. Blood cleansed... the liver, the heart... veins, the dark and the hidden. But... Teru, I couldn't understand?”

Metcenzerin stared at him blankly, then shrugged it off as the crazy cityman being himself and started climbing down the rope.

They could carry no torches, and Kwanai did not summon another orb of cursed light, so they climbed down in near-blackness towards the pitch blackness. The rock wall was a constant, but other then what little spreading light was caused by the glowing spider threads, there was nothing to show their surroundings. Metcenzerin set the pace and he descended carefully, ever vigilent for lurking dangers. He slowed even further when they entered the shadowed crevice, where not even the faint light of the threads could reach.

“Uh, Kwanai, it might be time for a light,” he suggested eventually, sensing something beneath them from the way the rope moved, but unable to even see the rope.

“'Light'? It was a partially cast spell of violent rot,” Kwanai corrected. “It must have a target at the end, or it will fade, wasted.”

“Just do it, please.”

The sickly glow revealed broken rock just below them, the solid but uneven ground littered with jagged pieces that had doubtless fallen from high above. When Metcenzerin let himself down on it, the fragments of rock crunched beneath his weight loudly. He winced at the noise, but at least it made one decision easier. If they were going to be making noise anyway, they might as well have some proper light.

He lit two torches and handed one off to the Stitchdoctor.

“Let's go find Eany.”

Webs hung, empty and broken, in tattered sheets across the maze of rocks and crevices. They were old and dull, but every now and then they could see newer ones above, gleaming in the light from the silvery threads. Smaller spiders still made their homes in the deep paths, though, their traps low to the ground. Twice, Metcenzerin saw the withered husks of rats hanging from abandoned webs of a more natural, but still disturbingly large, size.

He also found himself leading, with the other two apparently content to simply follow him around without comment. With nothing else, he used the wall of the cave as their guide. Eany couldn't have fallen far from it, he figured, so if they were going to find her anywhere, it must be along the edge.

That's what he told himself, but the terrain was not cooperating with him. There were no paths – no roads – just rough climbing, abrupt barriers, and webs, and all of it in near-perfect darkness beyond the limited glow of their torches. And the silence... their footsteps were loud in the deep, oppressive silence.

“Eany!”

He hated the silence. It ate his call and gave no response.

But the shadows replied. They unfolded long, crooked legs and crawled down the walls of rock on either side of the small group, and their black eyes reflected the torchlight a hundred times.

Kwanai didn't hesitate. The moment the eyes appeared, he finished casting his plague spell and, in the subsequent flash of light, revealed two of the most gruesome monsters Metcenzerin had ever imagined. Their bulbous bodies dwarfed the “big” spider in the tunnel, their chitinous hides were unevenly overgrown like tree-bark, and they had teeth.

The spell hit one of them, but it merely snarled – through its teeth, Metcenzerin noted – and advanced, its long legs intruding into the torchlight and its now gleaming green eyes towering over them. Metccenzerin tensed, thinking he could at least outrun the other two if push came to shove, because there was no way his little knives were going to pierce those huge bodies.

Then a voice spoke out of the darkness, from the direction of one of the monster-spiders but certainly not from one of them. It was a woman's voice, but low and confident. Forceful.

“We prefer not to kill you. The other two are still alive; come collect them, or the less tamed may do as they will.”

The three exchanged glances, or rather (more specifically) Metcenzerin looked to Kwanai for thoughts, Kwanai gave him nothing, and the Stitchdoctor looked back and forth between them without comment.

“Come or do not,” the voice said again, “but make your choice quickly. The guardians hunger, and anything that wanders outside my court is as prey to them.”

The monster-spiders made threatening, hissing-growling sounds, confirming in Metcenzerin's mind that the voice definitely hadn't come from one of them. He cleared his throat and poured on the charm.

“We would be delighted to accept your invitation, but I do not know this cavern, nor the way to your court. How are we to find you in this darkness?”

The voice almost seemed to soften slightly. “The guardians will guide you.”

The monstrous spiders scuttled around the group, taking up positions in front and behind them rather then on either side. Metcenzerin tried to feel confident in his choice, but he was tense, every moment expecting some scathing comment from behind. He glanced over his shoulder as the so-called “guardians” escorted them through the labyrinth of stone, and his gaze was met by blank, black glass and inhuman pits of green fire. No judgment, but also no acknowledgment. Just... nothing.

Ugh. How did I end up here, Iylihe?

The guardians led them to the center of the cavern, where the silver threads converged. A circle of carved stone lay hidden among the towers of rock, the threads draped high overhead in a high enough number that they actually lit the circle in a faint, pale light, enough to cast proper shadows.

There was only one thing in the circle to cast a shadow, though. A jagged stone throne, facing the narrow entrance from the other side of the circle. The dim light just barely illuminated the woman sitting there, but glinted brightly off her silver jewelry, her white silk dress draped with threads in spiderweb patterns, the obsidian collar of carved spider legs that crisscrossed her throat and rose above her shoulders. It was her face that was most hidden by the shadows, but the glint of her eyes fixed on them from across the room.

The spiders stopped at the edge and would not advance, leaving the humans to go on alone. Metcenzerin squared his shoulders, took a steeling breath, then strode into the middle of the room and swept off his hat in as deep a bow as he had performed.

“Well met, my lady. I take it this is the court you spoke of?”

The woman rose slowly from her throne, fully revealing her long, slender figure. One leg briefly appeared through a slit in the skirt, wrapped all in silver thread. Metcenzerin recognized the stance from her first step forward – this was a woman on a mission, her prey in sight.

Why spiders? In any other situation, she'd be gorgeous...

Long, pale Kingdomer hair, streaked with black. It fell straight over her shoulders, waving slightly at the ends. She raised one hand to flick a strand over her shoulder, an elegant gesture carefully calculated to give her a chance to show off her neck. Her dark eyes, painted like a citywoman's, were large but piercing, and something about her expression made Metcenzerin second-guess his initial judgment. There was a hungry look in those big eyes that made her entire presentation seem... predatory.

“Strangers in my realm are never long for this world,” she said, glancing almost dismissively at Metcenzerin. “Yes, this is my court, and my courtiers hunger. You're lucky; I want one of you alive.”

“One?” asked Metcenzerin in alarm. “You said--”

“You are not that one, so stop talking.” The tall silk-clad woman snapped her fingers, and, without even hesitating, Metcenzerin threw himself to the side. A heavy body hit the ground right where he had standing. Behind him, Kwanai reacted with the same instinct, but aggressive instead of defensive. When the spider above dropped towards him, he spun his staff and smacked it out of the air with a solid whack, the green glow of the plague magic still contained within seeping out of cracks widened by the hit.

Metcenzerin drew his knives and Kwanai planted his feet in his fighting stance, staff held ready. The two guardians reared up at the entrance of the circle, hissing and snapping their teeth, but still refused to step a single leg inside. The smaller, more normal spiders did not have the same restraint. The two who'd tried to ambush them regained their balance quickly, and from the shadows creeping across the floor, there were more above just waiting for the right opportunity.

The lady ignored it all. She walked towards them as her “courtiers” lowered themselves on their threads, surrounding the fighters. She didn't even glance at him when Metcenzerin broke out from between two of the many-legged monstrosities and ran to get his back against the wall, and she didn't acknowledge it when a rushing spider knocked Kwanai's staff aside and pinned him to the ground. She walked through the chaos, her hungry eyes fixed on one thing only.

“I've been watching your work,” she said finally, her low voice soft and admiring. “I can hardly believe my luck... Teru must be with me, indeed, to bring you here.

“We simply must have a chat, Stitcher.”