“The Lord of Avalon addresses the Queen of the Keepers, and demands an audience!”
I heard my voice echo for over a dozen miles throughout the immense cavern, reminding me that this place was at least the size of a small town. Put into perspective, it explained why a thousand or so monsters had trouble patrolling it. But then a rich, feminine voice echoed back through the underground forest.
“The Mistress of the Keepers welcomes the presence of the Lord of Avalon, and begs for the honor of his presence. She hereby grants safe passage directly to her quarters.”
“Thank God and everyone else,” I sighed in relief. “She answered me.”
“I really wish I could think up a better plan than this,” Breena muttered. “Because I’m not at all encouraged by her promise.”
“I totally am,” I replied flippantly. “I mean we’ve talked about this. She’s a spider-woman. She wants me in her web, instead of being caught by something else that might eat me instead.”
“And then she’s going to try and eat you herself,” Breena added. “You still remember that part, right? About how she probably wouldn’t keep her word? Once you’re there.”
“Oh definitely not,” I replied. “Again, she’s a spider-woman. In fact, the jerk I just killed warned me about that. That’s totally going down.”
I started to walk forward, and everyone moved with me. Then I cursed myself for being an idiot, and stopped walking forward.
“The Lord of Avalon requires your word of safe passage for himself and his entire retinue. Harm done to the retinue will be treated as harm to the lord himself.”
Again, my words echoed down. Again, the rich feminine voice whispered back.
“The Mistress of the Keepers offers her assurance of safe passage for the entirety of the mighty lord’s retinue. She begs that the Lord of Avalon stay his wrath, so that parley may be discussed.”
That was probably the best we could get.
“Let’s move, everyone,” I said out loud. “And uh, take up some kind of honor guard position.”
“Right,” Alum snorted. “Wouldn’t want to give the wrong impression for the upcoming ‘parley.’”
CHAPTER ELEVEN: PARLEY
Two of the dog-sized spiders came to guide us to the queen’s lair. They led us down a path where the webbing dissolved before our very eyes. As mentioned before, it proved to be the only path before our eyes. Alum had warned me that it would be like this going deeper, but the sheer density of webbing all around us overwhelmed my eyes. It would have taken all of my mana just to burn a hundred square feet of it, and there were thousands upon thousands of square feet in my way. But it collapsed directly before us as if someone had yanked the exact thread needed to completely unravel it. Which was probably what was happening.
Eventually, though, the walls of webbing parted, like we had come through the other side of a castle wall. Here the trees were actually free of stony covering. Their bark was a discolored purple, similar to the glow of their poisoned glyphs. I got the impression that these trees were fed on more frequently, while the trees on the other side of the web wall were kept in stasis.
More carapace-armored Arachknights met us as we went deeper into the underground woods. Unlike the jackass I met and killed earlier, these actually tilted their heads in respect. As we kept walking deeper, they fell in behind me. From the low-hanging branches of the tree I could barely make out other shapes tracking our movements and following behind us. Eventually I felt enough presence behind me to know our escape had been cut off.
She was surrounding us with her every last pet and warrior.
I wanted to sigh in relief that the plan was working. Then the number of noises behind me kept increasing, and I began to wonder if the plan working was a good thing.
Eventually, after hearing over a hundred voices chitter behind me for far longer than I was comfortable with, we reached our destination. We stepped into a giant circle of Woadfathers even larger than the others.
Larger still, though, was the arboreal tower in front of my eyes.
A Woadfather that put national monuments to shame loomed in front of me. I could have fit one of my high school classrooms inside a tree that massive. Maybe even my school cafeteria. At its base was an opening large enough to be a cave of its own. There were large knobs curling upward and around the base, which gave me the impression that the tree had tried to grow steps at one point. On purpose. About a hundred feet up limbs big enough to be support beams for a bridge jutted outward, curving directly up to whatever ceiling existed over our heads. They gave the impression that they were supporting the entire invisible expanse directly over our heads.
Breena gasped next to me as she looked at the sight.
“A Woadfather Monarch,” Breena gasped. “I don’t believe it. There is still one left.”
What is this exactly? I asked, noting her awe. I gather it’s something more than a very large or old Woadfather?
Wes, Breena answered. Woadfather Monarchs are to Woadfathers as to what Woadfathers are to other plants. A Monarch by itself can revive a desert, create a forest, end a famine. Usually all at once. Woadfather Monarchs can produce the kind of golden age for a world usually only seen after clearing a successful Tumult. The fact that we have one here is nothing short of a cosmic miracle. She looked at it sadly. If only it weren’t dying.
I was afraid she’d say that.
The colossal plant had glyphs like the Woadfathers did, massive symbols too big to fit on even the widest of banners. But they neither glowed a healthy green like the revived Woadfathers nor a sickly purple like the poisoned Woadfathers. Instead, they were black, and they pulsed as if the entire tree was choking.
It’s in agony, Breena whispered softly through the mindlink. And it’s been this way for untold millennium.
I repressed a brief, sympathetic shudder as we walked the rest of the distance to the tree. The chittering spiders and Arachknights remained behind us, surrounding the clearing instead of entering it with us.
My boots crunched on the pebble-strewn cavern floor as I stopped about a hundred yards away from the tree. The two spider guides with us suddenly chittered in unison, then departed.
Again, the rich, melodic voice washed out. This time I could tell it came directly from the tree itself.
“The Mistress of the Keepers greets the Lord of Avalon, and welcomes him to her abode.”
The sultry maturity of the voice probably could have given Guineve a run for her money. Or it least it could have if it wasn’t trying so hard. At any rate, though, I wasn’t going to let us start off on the wrong foot.
“The Lord of Avalon contests the Keeper’s unlawful claim to any part of his territory, and commands that she come forth in person to defend her actions, on pain of continued war.”
There. Now we could properly negotiate.
Assuming the chittering horde all around us did not take issue with my words.
Stay calm, I reminded myself. This is part of the plan.
For a moment she didn’t answer me. Then she conceded, and on a level that surprised me.
“The Mistress of the Keepers apologizes for her poor choice of words, and concedes to the Lord of Avalon’s request.”
A large shape slowly detached from the ceiling inside the tree’s cavern. The center of the mass was a blur, and it somehow threw enough shadows to look like a shapely woman with Guineve’s figure and a giant, bristly arachnid that twitched its legs in a thousand different directions. Gradually the shadows converged enough to make the woman the dominant shape, though something still made the shadows dance behind her. Gradually, the shadows condensed into a thin black thread that the woman used to lower herself gracefully to the floor like an acrobat.
Then she strolled out from the entrance, her feet clicking on the stony soil. Her figure swayed as she approached me, almost sensual, except for a hint of something else that made the hairs on the back of my neck rise. In the dim light, I could tell that her body contra
sted between albino-white and chitin-black. As she grew closer I realized she actually had skin, and skin smooth like a baby’s. The two colors swirled between each other in a marbled effect, with her face and neck the milk-white color, but her bare arm and shoulder glossy black, as well as the torso covered by the not-quite-opaque-enough red toga. Her legs, though, became white as soon as they were visible from the toga, going black again at the shins, ending in oddly jointed heels. Silky, blood-colored hair framed her oval face, twitching out of the way of her vision as she walked forward. Her pair of eyes were a red-colored almond slant, but when she stopped to look at me, four spots on her forehead twitched as she blinked.
“Earthborn,” the potential woman said. “The Lord of Avalon is an Earthborn. And a young Earthborn at that.”
Her army chittered all around us, then went silent.
She took another step forward. “The warriors of your race normally tower over us. By the time they leave their world to battle on another, they already have decades of experience in both magic and combat and wield artifacts even the ancient races on the Council fear.” She sniffed, twitching her back and right leg strangely as she did so. “Yet, despite your young age, I smell the blood of dozens of my children on you. Even the blood of my emissary, a veteran of Avalon’s conquest.” She cocked her head at me. Her children chittered briefly again, in a hushed voice. “In fact, you tore your way through all of my warriors. Raiding our webs and nests. Taking our prey from us.” She looked up again, sniffing and rubbing the small hairs on her otherwise smooth arm. “Taking even the trees back from us.”
“It is the Lord of Avalon’s job to defend the world against invaders,” I answered calmly.
“Yet we came to this place before you did,” the Keeper queen pointed out. “Would that not make you the invader, Earthborn?”
“You already acknowledged my lawful claim when you called me lord,” I answered without missing a beat. “The order of arrival is irrelevant, and I believe you already know that.”
“Fair enough,” the spider queen said, shrugging her bare black shoulder. “Your wit is impressive, young lord. As is your might. Keepers are supposed to be invulnerable within their homes. Yet you,” she said, stepping forward, “with barely any help or equipment, made short work of every one of my children that you encountered. Who are you, young and mighty Earthborn? How do you have such might at your young age? Such power? Such… presence?”
Is she coming onto us? Teeth asked in my mind. And is that a bad thing?
I chose not to consider that issue.
“It is more important that we discuss your current involvement in the occupation of Avalon,” I answered, crossing my arms. “I am offering you the opportunity to surrender, lay down all artificial weapons, and surrender all hostages.”
“Oh?” She cocked her head again, and this time I saw four lights on her forehead blink with her eyes. “Wouldn’t I require your name in order to surrender to you, mighty Earthborn? Per the ancient traditions?”
“You are already aware of my title,” I rebutted. “But I will provide my name with the expectation of hearing your own. I am Lord Wes Malcolm, of Earth and Avalon.”
“Queen Prodonti of the Keepers,” the woman said as she bowed from the waist. I blinked to avoid discovering what spider cleavage looked like, and also to postpone discovering how I felt about it. “I hereby state my desire to surrender to Lord Wes Malcolm of Avalon.”
Huh, I thought. Wasn’t expecting her to go that far, that fast.
Does it mean we won? the Freaking New Guy asked.
Don’t count on it. In fact, so far ‘I surrender’ has just meant ‘I’m about to get extremely disgusting right now, and make you want to kill me.’ Take it as a bad sign whenever an enemy does it.
“Do you surrender unconditionally, or are you still trying to negotiate?” I asked carefully.
It was a stupid question. But I had a reason for it.
“I would naturally take as much mercy as the mighty lord is gracious enough to give,” Prodonti replied, her voice taking on a more musical tint as she spoke.
“Concessions are possible, but dependent upon the level of good faith you and your people demonstrate,” I replied firmly.
“In that case,” the spider-woman answered, “I humbly ask for the honor of knowing more about my lord.”
“Your lord?” Breena asked, sounding offended. “When did you start calling him your lord?”
“When I agreed to surrender to him, naturally,” Prodonti answered smoothly, but she gave my fairy friend no more than a brief glance. “I would like to know what the Earthborn have become, that they would sweep my own children away so easily.”
“As an act of good faith, I require the remaining Gaelguard, as well as any other people of my planet currently being used as prey,” I answered without missing a beat.
“Certainly,” the bi-colored woman replied, though I heard a click in her mouth this time as she spoke. It threw off the otherwise musical quality of her voice. “How could my surrender have any meaning if I did not give up what was my lord’s?”
Wait, what? Breena asked through the mindlink. I don’t like this, Wes. That’s her biggest bargaining tool. She gave it up way too quickly.
No she didn’t, I answered. She didn’t give it up at all, remember? She’s a Keeper.
Still… Breena trailed off. But that was okay.
I had a pretty good guess as to what was about to happen.
A shadow flickered behind Prodonti, and I heard something scrape against the ground. Her chitin-clad hand rose up and toward her chest, as if she was pulling on an invisible thread. She brought her second hand up to pull as well, dragging a large mass of objects out from the tree from behind her. Lined up in a neat row were about fifteen bundled forms, covered in web and stone.
“I swear by my power and name that these are all of those directly under my power. There are a few others still in other parts of the cavern. I have sent for them. They should be here shortly. I pray that is sufficient for my lord to answer my question?”
“I expect their delivery to be prompt, but yes. I will answer your question.” I needed to appear confident, so I risked taking a step forward, watching her face as I did so. She was still over a dozen yards away, but I saw something on her face flicker for another moment. I could have sworn her forehead was trying to blink again. “Your children are out of practice. They have had no real combat for the entirety of their time down here. I suspect they have been itching to fight each other over the remaining food, and that you have often been forced to eliminate some of them on several occasions.”
“My lord is wise and correct.” Prodonti smiled. Her teeth were a milky-white, almost human-looking. But again, I heard something click coming from the back of her throat. “Food has been scarce for all of our entire race. It was part of the reason I agreed to take my children to Avalon to begin with. The ones who bargained with us promised an end to our famine, a sure path to survival for all of eternity. A place where I could grow my own brood in peace, if I were to just help them battle their own enemies. Please, my lord, stay your anger as I speak. Understand, how could I say no to a sure future for my children? What mother could? I beg mercy for those that are still left.”
“And mercy for yourself, so that you can make more,” I said with a deadpan face. Because I was not getting a strong vibe of attachment from this alien creature.
“My lord is gracious,” the spider queen sang-clicked, lowering her head submissively.
“As the next act of good faith, I demand that the captives be delivered directly to us,” I continued. “They are to be transported to the Gaelguard directly behind me. You may use no more than four creatures to carry out my demand. I am confident that will not be a problem.”
“My lord is correct.” The monster-woman bowed her head once again, and four spider-pets scurried over, these large enough to come up to my waist, and with gray, blade-like legs. They scampered quickly over to the w
eb-statues, moved their abdomens to attach some webbing of their own, and began dragging over the bodies one by one, depositing them to the six Gaelguard standing behind me.
“Apologies, great lord,” Prodonti said in a voice that was almost a purr. “Your command will take some time to complete in this manner. May we continue to talk?”
“Naturally,” I replied calmly. “State your next requested condition.”
“A stay of my execution,” the woman-thing said in a soft voice. “As well as an opportunity to convince you to allow me to retain my life.”
“You have committed murder inside my kingdom,” I said firmly. “That will not go unpunished.”
“Nor should it,” the queen said without missing a beat. “But I beg that my lord hear my defense. You had already heard how my people were starving. Know that the Stellar Council had knowledge of our invasion, and did not condemn it, despite your own race’s objections. This war was not illegal.”
I couldn’t be sure, but I thought I had heard the first real plea she had made.
This ancient queen. She feared my anger.
“Does that change the fate of those who died?” I countered sternly. “Did you have the prior lord’s blessing to come to this world and make war?”
“I killed as few as I could,” the spider-queen whispered. “For our lives depended on their own. And there was no true lord of Avalon at the time, great one. No one with the authority to deny us passage to your world. The last planetary lord had vanished thousands upon thousands of years prior to our coming. I swear we would never have dared otherwise.”
“But you did dare,” I answered mercilessly. “And there is a lord here now. It’s time to discuss what you’ve done to my people,” I glanced upward, at the dying Monarch behind her. “And to the life of my world itself.”
“I have no choice to agree with my lord’s demands.” The spider-woman bowed her head again. “Yet I beg that he hear my defense. I have already suffered through untold ages of imprisonment. Most races would have long been driven mad. And as for the lives lost, I have already paid. My people have slain little more than a dozen Woadborn Avalonians. But my lord has already slain over double that number of my own children, and tenfold the number of pet-kin. And as the Woadfathers themselves,” she added quickly, noting my second glance at the wooden monolith behind her, “understand that my Keepers have never slain, and never would slay, such excellent marvels. The damage done to the Monarch behind me was not caused by us.”
Woad Children (Challenger's Call Book 3) Page 17
