ARWIN

Arwin woke with his body tingling from poison and his head filled with the excruciating pounding of his pulse. His head felt like it was going to split apart at any moment. His leg, where the spider had bitten him, felt like it was stuck in a fire pit while also being eaten alive by fire ants. A groan slowly oozed from his mouth. He felt brutalized. It was a long moment before he realized that he could breathe freely. He forced his eyes to open. For three and a half moments, things were blurry from the pain. Then he saw someone astonishing standing before him, and all thoughts of discomfort instantly receded to the far reaches of his mind.

She was darkly radiant. She was young, perhaps his age or a little older, and utterly beautiful, so much so that his heart squeezed in his chest. She raised her hand to his face. Creamy skin glowed pale under milky moonlight streaming down from windows and skylights above, the glass somehow amplifying the moon’s silvery beams. Gently, with a hand decorated with long, elaborately painted and jewelled nails, she stroked his cheek.

Instant, cooling relief flooded Arwin’s body, and he moaned in gratitude. He breathed deep as his eyes drank her in.

Tall, confident, immaculate, and gorgeous, she was physically the pinnacle of womanhood. She casually stood there with weight more on one foot, one hand on her hip, hungrily eyeing him the way a cat does a mouse, the corner of her lips curled up in a cruel smile.

She stepped even closer until they were almost touching. In her very high heels, the woman was almost as tall as Arwin. Their eyes met, and he became lost within two dark gems of purple amethyst: rare, exotic, beautiful eyes. Leaning in, long, wavy dark hair framing her fine features, she spoke, her voice like silken steel. "Welcome to my parlour, said the spider to the flies." Her lips shone the colour of fresh blood. Her smile widened, and she studied him with playful yet calculating and very intelligent eyes.

Arwin opened his mouth to speak but was so stunned by her beauty that nothing came out.

She turned away from him and casually sauntered over to Yaz, who hung chained from the wall, just as Arwin now realized he, too, did. It gave Arwin a chance to see the woman’s whole body.

She wore a long, skin-tight dress with a slit up one side, ending high on her wide hip, so her leg flashed with each step. The silken material of the apparel made it look like liquid violet paint had been poured all down her body, though it miraculously hadn’t covered most of her full breasts or her back. So thin and ephemeral was the dress that it seemed to be more of a naughty thought than a real thing. The side slit revealed lithe, lightly muscled legs, like those of a dancer. And she didn’t just walk. The movement was more feline, more predatory: she stalked. It was obvious that she wore nothing at all underneath the sultry gown. Tall, stiletto heels clicked on the stone as she glided forward. Literally, the heels were stilettos, shaped like small daggers that gleamed silver and flashed in the moonlight.

Arwin tore his eyes off of her with some effort and looked around. But his eyes were drawn back to her because she was so damned hot. So he redoubled, then trebled his efforts and managed to look away long enough to take in his surroundings.

He was in some kind of throne room. The metallic throne was shaped like three giant black spiders, and its cushion and backing were made of rich, raspberry-red leather (which looked surprisingly comfy). The walls and floor were constructed of midnight-black marble struck through with snow-white veins of quartz, all polished to a high sheen. Moonlight poured through high windows. It illuminated thousands of silvery cobwebs, and translucent orb webs glittered in every nook and corner. In fact, the ceiling was alive with eight-legged things, some as large as cats and dogs.

The sight sent a shiver knifing down Arwin's spine. He hated spiders. Examining his bonds, he found his wrists and waist bonded to the wall of the throne room by wads of sticky spider silk.

Yaz was already awake as he'd probably never been put to sleep (poison has no effect on the undead). The skeleton looked over from his similar position and nodded encouragingly. A wad of spider silk had been stuck over his mouth.

The woman pulled the webbing free of Yaz's oral cavity and sized him up. “Now, why would a skeleton be walking around my demesne, especially in broad daylight? The only visitors I ever get are assassins and thieves. Usually in the employ of those wanting to steal my magical secrets. So. Who commands you, creature?”

“No one,” Yaz growled. “I’m not your typical undead.”

Her head tilted slightly. “My, my. You can speak clearly. And seem to have a modicum of intelligence. And independence?”

“Of course I’m independent!”

“What are you, if not some spellcaster’s toy or feral thing born of death magic?”

Yaz appeared to get ahold of himself and take a deep breath, which was weird because he didn’t need to breathe. “My lady. My name is Yaz—“

Her expression brightened with understanding. “Ah! I’ve heard of you, haven’t I? You're the Wandering Skull, aren't you?"

“My name is Yaz,” he snapped.

“Touchy.” She chuckled. “You’re even older than I am. You’d think that after all these centuries, we would have met much sooner."

Yaz retorted, “I don’t think we hang out with the same crowd.”

She closely examined him, not hiding her curiosity. “I don’t suppose we do. So what would possibly bring you to my castle now?”

Yaz hesitated and then obviously tried to make his voice as polite as possible. “I’m looking for someone.”

“And you think they’re here?” She laughed. “Who in Heartstone could you think to find here?”

“Princess Epheria.”

The woman cocked her head. “Who?” She looked puzzled for a moment, Then her eyes widened, and she snapped her fingers as she gasped. “No. It’s really true? You’re still traipsing around the land looking for your fabled lost love? A thousand years of failure, and you’re still trying?” She cruelly laughed.

Through gritted teeth, he said, “Yes, I am. I once asked the magicist who lived here before you if Princess Epheria was being kept here. She said she’d had nothing to do with Epheria and didn’t know of her location. But she never actually let me search the castle either. She might have been lying or mistaken. As I have searched the rest of Heartstone and seen nothing of her, I hoped you might let me see for myself whether she was here.”

She burst out into fresh, surprised laughs. “I can’t believe it. It’s been a thousand years. She’s dead, you idiot!”

Yaz was obviously having trouble controlling himself, and his voice was thick with suppressed anger. “She was entombed. Magically. In crystal. It would have kept her alive indefinitely, I’m sure of it.”

She spoke in a mocking tone. “Why would I want to keep some dead woman in a giant crystal laying around my castle?”

He seemed frustrated. Perhaps being so close to finding an answer after all this time was making him desperate. “I don’t know. Please, I just need to see for myself. I can’t leave any stone unturned. I must know that I’ve done everything I possibly can to find her.”

The woman sadly shook her head, though the cruel smile on her lips revealed she wasn’t really all that sad. “How pathetic. I can’t believe you’re still obsessed with this. She’s dead. She died an eon ago. Don’t you think it’s time to move on?”

“I will not give up. I love her.”

“Love.” She snorted with contempt. “Even if you managed to find her, why would she love you anymore? Have you looked in a mirror recently? You’re dead, too!” She laughed. “You’re nothing but ugly bones and a thick skull. Even if you found her, do you think she’d still love you as you are now? Would she plaster her little lips on your exposed teeth? Run her hand up and down your bared spine? Cuddle your fleshless ribs? Or would she run away, screaming in terror?”

Yaz looked away, unable to reply.

But the woman was remorseless. “She’d take one look at you and trade in your walking corpse for a real man. Like that one over there.” She gestured at Arwin. “At least he still has the means of satisfying a woman,” she mocked, then giggled.

“Shut up,” Yaz snapped.

Arwin tried to break free of his bonds while she was distracted. But while the webbing had a slight give to it, it was sticky and utterly impervious to his fingers. Pulling with all his strength against the wall yielded no results. Spider silk really was was stronger than steel.

She returned to studying Yaz’s skull as she spoke. “So pathetic. Why don’t you just admit that you’re obsessed because you have nothing else and no one to love you? And that you’re too scared to move on? You need to give up. Find a nice cemetery and start dating someone new.” She cackled, yet somehow made that look cute. “Think of all the fun things you and a fresh corpse could get up to. Romantically rotting together under the dirt. You could bury each other and then dig each other up. Play pranks on archeologists. Haunt houses together. And think of all the boning you could do!” She burst out in more laughter at her own jokes.

Arwin snorted with amusement before he could stop himself. He was surprised by her wit. He had to admit, in other circumstances, she’d actually be quite funny. He admired that. But the way her words tortured his friend sucked the fun out of it.

“Go blast yourself!” the skeleton shouted at her.

The woman whirled away with a big smile, turning her back to him, and leaving him to sag, head bowed, in silence. She sensuously walked back over to Arwin, beguiling his eyes with her every move. “I don’t have much use for a spare skeleton, though the magic animating him and preserving his soul is fascinating to say the least. But, you on the other hand, a smart woman can certainly put to good use." Her nails lightly raked down his arms, causing gooseflesh to break out. "So young and handsome. I'll bet virile too." She suggestively licked her lips, devouring him with her violet gaze. Then she stood back and ran her hands up her own stunning body until they cupped her large breasts, her nipples visible beneath the fabric of her dress. She looked directly into his eyes. “Do you like what you see?”

Arwin felt trapped, and not just by his spidery chains. Did he really want to get into this kind of flirting talk with her? “Um...”

“Silly question. Of course you do. All men do.” She slid close. Her hand wrapped around the back of his head and she pulled herself up until their faces nearly touched.

He expected her breath to be foul, perhaps from eating flies, but instead it was sweet, reminiscent of dark chocolate and port wine.

She teased him, speaking breathily, “Tell me, would you like a kiss?” A kiss in exchange for your freedom?” She leaned closer, her lips about to press into his.

Yaz’s head snapped up. “Don’t! It’s the kiss of death!”

Arwin turned his face away at the last moment.

She looked put out by his response and her upper lip curled in a slight sneer of disappointment. Her voice oozed danger, the change in attitude sudden and dramatic. “Yes, yes. Do fear the kiss of the so-called spider queen.” She looked at him a moment longer, then abruptly flashed him her bared teeth. For a moment, she had a mouth full of fangs, just like a spider. Then her teeth became human again.

Arwin winced in fear. What the hell had that been? A spell? Illusion? He feared it was real, and that she was more than she appeared. He nervously swallowed. "Look, I'm sorry that we seem to have trespassed. We're both very sorry. We apologize, and if you let us go, we'll happily be on our way and we'd be very grateful for your generosity. We’ll never bother you again; promise.”

The woman snickered. "Let you go? Do you know what I like to do with the foolish little wayward things who wander into my lands with their lies and thieving fingers?”

"No, I don’t,” he replied, fighting to keep the fear out of his voice. "I don't even know who you are,” he lied.

She raised an eyebrow in disbelief. "Playing innocent? Or do you live in a hole in the ground? I am known, and feared, far and wide as the Dark Enchantress. You are in my castle. And in my power.” Her nails dug into the back of his neck.

Arwin gulped. She was absolutely nothing like she’d been described by the blue people. At least, not physically. Tales of her personality, however, might have been spot on. She radiated evil.

"She’s also known as the Spider Queen," Yaz said sourly, "Lady Poison, Queen Evil—“

Her head whipped around in Yaz’s direction and she snarled, then spoke with mock surprise, “Really? Is that what people call me?" She came to stand next to the skeleton and loudly hissed in his ear, "Or do they no more than whisper such names in quiet corners while they fearfully look over their shoulders, afraid that I’m lurking in the shadows, ready to flay the skin from their bones should they ever take my name in vain?" Yaz had no answer and she mockingly laughed at him.

Just then a tapping sound rattled into the room and seconds later a monstrously large spider squeezed through the door. It was larger than those that had captured Arwin and Yaz, nearly as tall as the Enchantress. Eight limbs moved in mesmerizing concert, bringing the horror up to the woman's side.

She smiled and rubbed his head. "Ah, Drathgar, prince of arachnids."

Like a puppy, he affectionately rubbed his head against her body and possessively curled a leg around her. She giggled and kissed his shiny cephalothorax.

Yaz huffed and spoke derisively. Despite their mission here, her earlier words seemed to have cut him deeply. Now, the skeleton was angry. "You're a monster. I'll bet the rumours are true; you actually make love to those loathsome beasts, don't you?"

"What?" Arwin spoke in astonishment before he could stop himself. "You have sex with spiders?"

"And if I did?" She turned to him and spoke saucily, or mockingly, it was difficult to tell. "Does that turn you on? Do you want to watch me do it with him before I do it with you, too?" The Enchantress licked her teeth and lasciviously ran her eyes up and down the young man's body. “Some people like to watch. It works out well because I like to be watched.” She blew him a kiss.

Arwin shuddered and wished he could back away through the wall. This woman was insane. Was she joking and toying with him? Or was she hinting at truth? It was impossible to tell with her. Her beauty, the danger, and the sheer craziness of the encounter shook him, scattering his thoughts. "Uh, you seem like a really nice spider fucker, er, old bitch, uh, hot witch, um, whatever. But, um, we're just not very interesting people, I'm sure you'd be bored of our company quickly. I'm not even from Heartstone, and I really need to be getting home."

"Old?" she became slightly enraged, a hand instinctively going to her face, as if to check for wrinkles. “You think I look old?”

He realized he’d erred. Some women did not take kindly to references about their age, unless it was to lie and say that they looked younger than they actually were. He cleared his throat. “You look great for your age?" he offered, having no idea how old she really was.

Visibly fighting to control her anger, she narrowly eyed her captive. “Who are you, really? Why are you here? You are the worst assassins I’ve ever seen.”

“We’re not assassins!” he protested.

“Did you come here to steal my work? How boring. Do you realize just how many pathetic attempts to steal my research I have to put up with on a regular basis? Can’t you fools just leave me alone?” she shouted. “Do your own bloody research!”

“Please!” he begged. “We’re not here to hurt you or steal anything. Like Yaz said, we’re looking for his princess.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“It’s true! I’m even from here. From Heartstone.”

She eyed him with suspicion. “How can you not be from Heartstone? Almost everyone is from Heartstone."

Arwin shrugged. “I was driving through the woods, just trying to clear my head, and then there was this curtain thing and a blue field and depressing berries—“

She left the giant spider, stepped forward, and resoundingly slapped him across the face. "Make sense!"

Arwin’s head spun. That was no regular slap. She was a lot stronger than she looked!

"He's from Drearia,” Yaz muttered.

Her eyes and mouth opened wide in shock. "The portal is open again? We're being infested with non-magical Drearians?" Her face twisted, as if she’d just eaten something truly disgusting. “Ew!”

Arwin shrugged again. He didn’t blame her for feeling that way about the people of his homeworld. A lotta days, he did too. "Well, just me so far. There’s a dragon camped outside the portal, raiding a cattle ranch. Probably won’t be a lot of people coming through anytime soon.”

Lips pursed, she took a second, more thoughtful look at him. "So that's why I couldn't place the cute accent. Mmmm, a foreigner. Despite your lack of magic, exoticness makes you even more delicious."

Yaz sighed. “Told you so.”

Reaching out, her hand touched Arwin’s chest and she stroked his pecs, bejewelled nails sparkling in the moonlight.

A large black widow spider scampered over the Dark Enchantress’s shoulder. Slowly, step by step, it crawled down her slender, white limb and then, one delicate, sharp little leg at a time, it climbed up onto Arwin's bare neck. He felt each leg on his skin, then his skin, too, crawled. On the side of his neck, the fat, poisonous spider rested, forelegs tickling the little hairs above his rapidly pulsing artery.

The Dark Enchantress laughed. "Aw, she likes you."

Arwin shivered, horrified at the intimate contact. He was terrified that it was about to sink its deadly jaws into his neck. "Get it off!"

"Come,” she purred and the black widow reluctantly crawled into the palm of her slender hand. She affectionately kissed the arachnid and placed it on the floor. Then the witch leaned closer. When Arwin flinched away as he had before, the motion brought a scowl to her face. "Something wrong? You don't like me? My lips aren’t actually poisonous, you know.”

"You're a queen or something, right? Wouldn't you rather seduce a nice prince or something?"

"You'll do." Seductively, she reached down and cupped him between the legs and paused. Then waited. Then scowled again. Apparently she had not found the physical response that she was expecting.

Arwin looked almost apologetic. "Sorry. We ran into these nymphs earlier and—“ Her backhand snapped his head around. Ow! Did she have bones and muscles made of steel? How was she so strong?

Yaz shook his head and looked sympathetically at his friend. "I told you. Most girls don't like nymphs. They also don't like not getting the attention they want when they want it."

Arwin saw her eyes boring into him. Unable to make his body respond the way this crazy woman wanted, he protested, "It's nothing personal, I'm just very worn out and I've recently been drugged and I'm scared and totally creeped out by all of this. You can't really blame a guy for not being responsive under those conditions. Besides, you're not really my type." He cut himself off. Hmm. It might not have been too smart saying that last part. Stupid brain, why couldn’t it be less frazzled by all of this? Probably because all of this was far, far beyond anything he’d ever dreamed of ever encountering in his normal life.

Her eyes flashed in anger. "Not your—?” The woman seethed, “Fine. If you want to reject me, if you too think so little of me without even knowing me at all, then you can rot in my dungeon!" An evil grin slowly spread over her lips. "Until I give you to either my lovely spiders or darling black gremlins. Of course, they won't treat you like I would have. I would have given you more pleasure than any feeble nymph ever could have. My servants, on the other hand, will eat you alive. Literally. And I'll tell them to do it slowly, so as to cause the most pain. I’ll tell them to start with your feet, so you will be alive to watch your own body being consumed!"

Arwin gulped as Drathgar, the giant arachnid, came forward and two long, needle-like legs reached for him. “Oh crap,” he moaned.