by Dante King
“And what might that be?”
“You’re good, Vance. No, you’re great. You’re an amazing God of Death, a far better Death deity than I ever was. And you’re learning and growing in strength far faster than any other deity I’ve ever heard of. Only the Lord of Light can equal you in this regard. I’ve changed my mind completely. I want to stay a mortal now. I had my run at being a goddess, and I have to admit that it wasn’t for me, and that I wasn’t a great deity. But you are, Vance. You really are. I’ve thrown that wooden cock away. No more plots. I just want to be your loyal necromancer. And your lover, if you’ll have me. I’m willing to share you, of course, with the other women. Even that holier-than-thou blond. This body of mine is yours to do with as you wish. If you want to kill me because of everything I’ve admitted, because you consider me untrustworthy and a risk, I will die honorably, and I will gladly contribute my soul to your growth as the God of Death. Stick Grave Oath into my heart, Vance, and I will die with a smile on my face knowing that I at least confessed my sins against you before my end.”
“Stand up, Isu,” I said firmly, disengaging from the embrace.
She stood on shaky legs, her eyes red and her cheeks wet with tears.
“I’m not going to kill you, not now and not in the future,” I said. “I need you, Isu. You’re a solid advisor and a fierce fighter. I appreciate your confession. Let’s wipe the slate clean, and we can start over.”
Her face glowed as a huge smile spread across it before she jumped into my arms, squeezing me tightly and planting kisses all over my neck and face. I had never seen the former goddess smile and act this joyfully before. It was almost like Isu had become a completely new person, now that she had finally let go of her lost divinity, confessed her sins, and embraced her new mortal existence. Hell, if I wasn’t the God of Death, I might have made a damn good priest.
“Thank you, Vance,” she murmured between kisses. “You don’t know how much this means to me.”
“Like I said,” I began, “you’re off the hook, but you cross me a second time, and you die.”
She nodded and didn’t interrupt her kisses, but before we could continue—she might have been using the wooden cock in a plot to take my divinity, but now that was out of the window, she hadn’t unlearned the deep-throating techniques or anything—we were interrupted by the sound of footsteps approaching. I peered through the trees and saw Rollar walking up the course of the stream.
“Lord Vance.” He shot a slightly surprised look at Isu, whom he wasn’t used to seeing without a scowl on her face. “The others are getting antsy. I was just coming to check whether you were ready. Friya says we must press on now if we are to get to Aith before nightfall.”
“We’re ready to go,” I said, and together, we made our way back to the others and departed.
We made good time, and around an hour before dusk, we reached the gates of the mountain city, Aith. It was quite a spectacular sight, especially bathed in the late afternoon sun that painted the red-stone towers and spires in an intensely fiery hue. The city itself was huge, backed by a wall of mountains, hedged in by peaks. There really was no way on but through the city.
Even though it looked majestic, the closer we got to Aith, the more we could tell that there was something off about it. There was a strange glint to it, and when I flew my harpy close to the walls, I soon figured out what it was: spider webs. They were everywhere, strung across every conceivable surface. Some of the threads were so fine, they were almost invisible, but some were as thick as ropes. From afar, this massive profusion of spiderwebs gave the city an almost ethereal look, making it sparkle and shine as if every surface was covered in glitter and gemstones.
From up close, of course, the truth was far more sinister.
I wore a grim expression, as did Rollar next to me, as we led the army to the main gates. I was attired in my full suit of glossy black plate armor, making sure I looked suitably menacing. I hoped it would be enough, along with my large contingent of undead troops, to intimidate the Arachne into allowing us passage through their city.
We stopped a dozen yards from the city gates, which were over 20 yards high, reaching to the height of the city walls. We hadn’t seen any Arachne yet, but I sensed their eyes on me, staring down through the narrow slit windows in the burnt-umber-toned walls.
“Who are you, and why have you come to Aith?” a voice demanded from one of these windows.
“I am Lord Vance Chauzec, God of Death!” My voice boomed across the plain between us and the gates. “I demand passage through this city.”
“God or mortal, nobody makes demands of the Arachne,” the voice shouted back. “You will wait while the Webmaven makes her decision.”
Rollar leaned over and spoke softly to me. “I suggest that we allow them time to consider, Lord Vance, and not antagonize them too much. We can make this a win-win situation. No need for violence.”
“I agree,” I said before turning back to the window the Arachne had spoken to us from.
“Fine!” I then shouted. “But do not keep the God of Death waiting for too long, mortal!”
Whoever it was didn’t reply. We waited for a short while, during which I felt many eyes on me. It was unnerving, but I was by no means afraid or intimidated; quite the opposite. I was filled with fresh confidence. The anxious wait and deliberation showed they didn’t feel certain that they could reject my demand right away. Finally, a reply came from the same window as before.
“The Webmaven of Aith has agreed to allow you to enter our city,” the voice shouted. “However, there is something you must do first.”
“What must I do?”
“Defeat her prize war-spider in single combat without the use of any magic or magic weapons!”
“Bring it on, crawly gits!” I roared in response. “Send your biggest fucking ladybug out, and I’ll eat that motherfucker for breakfast!”
A slow, mocking laugh resounded from within the walls of Aith, and soon, the laughter spread, with hundreds more voices joining in from window slits across the walls. Then, the gates slowly opened, and out of them charged a gigantic red, hairy spider that made Rollar’s direbear look like a puppy.
“Well, slap my ass and call me Sally,” I muttered, jumping off Fang and tossing my magic weapons aside. “This is gonna be fun.”
Chapter Eighteen
I inspected my army’s magic-less weapons, considering how I might have the most fun battling this giant spider the old-fashioned way. First, I snatched a long spear from one of my skeleton cavalrymen. For heavy duty, I chose a battle-axe from one of my zombie barbarians, hooking it into the scabbard on my back that usually held my kusarigama. An unenchanted tower shield from one of my zombie Crusaders should suffice for defensive purposes. I took a moment to appreciate that these ex-clerical guards no longer looked or smelled quite as rotten as they once had, now that my powers had increased and I was able to maintain undead humans in the same kind of stasis as I was my undead beasts.
I figured I could use my plate armor as long as I didn’t activate its Cold Magic and thereby break the rules of this match. The plate armor would hold a lot better than my light assassin’s armor.
“Just like boar hunting,” I muttered as I strode out to meet the giant war spider in the dusty expanse before the vast gates of Aith. “If the boar was about 50 times bigger, had eight legs, a hundred eyes, and venomous fangs the size of greatswords.”
Within its monstrous head, the spider’s multiple eyes gleamed like embedded jewels in the rich dusk light. Venom oozed and dripped from its curved fangs. Considering how potent the venom in many regular-sized spiders’ fangs was, I had no desire to find out just how brutal the effects of this behemoth’s poison on a human body would be.
Hopefully, the shield and my plate armor would prevent that.
I remembered what Friya had told me about these spiders—that they were linked to the mind and spirit of an Arachne, similar to how my undead troops were linked to me. This
was no dumb beast I was about to fight. I needed to remember there was a human-like mind controlling this thing.
I kept this fact in the forefront of my mind as the spider and I started circling each other, about 20 yards between us. I felt a sudden empathy for ants and how they must feel when staring up at humans.
Of course, there was no real comparison there. For me, taking out the spider would have been no problem had I been able to use my powers. Fighting it the way any other non-Fated mortal would was an entirely different matter. The last time I’d fought an enemy using only my human reflexes and weapons of steel had been prior to becoming a necromancer. Actually, that wasn’t correct. It was also prior to finding Grave Oath, when I’d been a novice assassin.
Thankfully, my reflexes and skills hadn’t faded. In fact, by becoming a god, I had enhanced them. I could sense that the spider—and whoever was controlling it—perceived that I was a seasoned fighter. It was an easy conclusion to make since my stance and movements were those of an expert warrior.
For a few more moments, the spider and I simply circled each other, analyzing and assessing each other’s movements, looking for weaknesses and vulnerable spots.
Finally, the spider lost the silent battle of wills. With a rattling hiss, it charged, its eight huge legs, each as thick as a young pine tree, propelling it across the dust at a phenomenal speed.
The creature’s most vulnerable spots were obviously its eyes, and with the reach advantage the spear offered me, the most logical thing to do was to stab its eyes out.
So, that’s exactly what I didn’t do.
The spider’s controller would be expecting it. So I feinted, making it seem like I was about to aim a thrust at the beast’s eye. But at the last moment, I sprang to the side and skewered one of its leading legs with the spear. My blade broke through its tough, hairy skin and into the flesh. I yanked the spear out and rolled acrobatically out of the way of the charging spider.
The spider changed direction, its eight legs offering it the kind of maneuverability that other creatures could only dream about. This allowed it to strike out with its huge fangs before I came up out of my roll, and I was only just able to swing my tower shield up and block the spider’s bite, but the fangs punctured the shield, ripping through the steel as if it were parchment, and stopped mere inches from my face, the venom dripping right in front of my eyes.
“Fuck,” I muttered. “Armor-piercing fangs.”
I counter attacked in the blink of an eye, jabbing the spear around the side of the tower shield into the spider’s thorax. It shrieked again as blue slime oozed from the wound, and in a burst of pained rage, it flung me away, using its fang, which was still embedded in my shield.
As I hurtled through the air, I tossed both my spear and shield aside and managed to turn my chaotic flight into an acrobat’s tumble, landing smoothly when I hit the ground. Had I not cast my weapons aside, I would have broken a couple of bones upon impact.
On the other hand, I was now facing the spider without the cover of a shield or a weapon with long reach. I pulled the barbarian’s battle-axe off my back and gripped it in both hands. With its heavy, sharp twin blades, it had the potential to inflict crushing damage—if I could get in close enough without being perforated by those wicked fangs.
I quickly realized that trying to win a battle against this behemoth using agility and acrobatics would be futile. Its eight legs gave it a massive edge in terms of speed and maneuverability. No, the way I was going to beat it was with raw strength. And maybe a god-tier dose of courage.
Good thing I was a god.
I had already been a strong fellow prior to becoming a deity, and now, I was even stronger—far stronger than I looked. I could swing this battle-axe with as much power as the brawniest barbarian warrior. If I could hit the spider in just the right spo, and manage to put all my power behind it, I’d be able to end this fight very quickly.
The problem was getting close enough to strike right between the crawler’s eyes, burying the head of this battle-axe deep into its brain. That vulnerable spot, the chink in its armor, as such, was 10 feet off the ground, protected by huge fangs and many powerful limbs.
I still had a few assassin’s tricks up my sleeve, however. One trick that would work perfectly. More difficult in a suit of full plate armor, but I figured that with my enhanced strength, I’d be able to do it.
I started backing away from the spider, pretending to be searching for an opening. I made a few convincing surges forward, swinging at the beast with the battle-axe, all the while drawing it closer to the huge walls of Aith. The spider’s controller would want me cornered so that the creature could tear me apart. Perfect. The best way to lure someone into a trap is to have them think they’re luring you into one.
When I was just 20 yards from the wall, the spider lunged for me. With a few rapid swipes of the battle-axe, I battered its fangs away, almost severing one of its legs. I had my back to the wall. It was time to make my move.
“Oh, shit,” I yelled, “I’m trapped! How could I have been so stupid!”
The spider, thinking it had me cornered, hissed slowly and raised its fangs, ready to charge. I turned and made as if I was panicking and fleeing blindly toward the wall. And as I’d hoped it would, the spider pounced from behind me, thinking a hot meal of fresh god meat was within reach. But as I reached the wall, with the thundering legs of the spider a yard or two behind me, I activated my hamstring muscles and leaped. As soon as my feet landed on the wall, I sprinted vertically up the massive stone blocks. As the momentum of my vertical sprint started to drop off, I launched myself backward in a tumbling pirouette, which I turned into a somersault, battle-axe gripped in both hands. The spider reared up to pluck me from the air, its fangs poised to strike and its jaws open, but I used the momentum of my spinning rolls to inject tremendous power into my final blow. I came down like an eagle, crashing through the spider’s waiting legs and slamming the battle-axe down between its many eyes.
The blade bit into the creature’s brain. The spider jerked and lurched from side to side, limbs scuttling madly in different directions. Even though I was almost thrown off it in the chaos, I held the axe firmly in place. With one final great shudder, the spider crashed to the ground beneath me, its eyes glazed over.
There was a moment of silence as I stepped off the dead spider, until a roaring applause erupted from my army. From Aith, though, there was nothing but silence. I flipped open my visor and glared up at the many slit windows in the walls.
“Well?!” I roared. “I did it, without magic. The eight-legged fucker is dead. Now, do what you said you would: Open these damn gates!”
To emphasize that I wasn’t playing around, I closed my eyes, hurled part of my spirit and a small chunk of my life force into the dead spider, and resurrected it. Gasps erupted from the slit windows as the spider’s eyes turned a shade of luminous yellow-green. The beast, now undead, stood and walked calmly over to me.
Still no response from behind the walls.
“Should I kill another one?” I yelled. “Send out your whole damn army of crawlers. I’ll take ‘em all on!”
I turned and looked at Friya. She shrugged at me before I returned my gaze to the walls. After an excruciatingly silent few seconds, the gates of Aith opened with a creak and a drawn-out groan.
“You and your party may enter the city,” a voice called out, “but your army must stay outside the gates.”
I went back to join my party.
“Keep your wits about you,” I said as I mounted Fang. “And follow my lead.”
Everyone nodded their agreement, and I noticed that Isu was wearing a hood that covered her face. I doubted her horns would be all that out-of-place in a city filled with spider-people, but she had mentioned that she’d visited the place before, so maybe she didn’t want to be recognized?
Atop Fang, I led my party into the city, where I finally saw the Arachne with my own eyes.
They looked far more
human than I’d imagined. They were tall, skinny, and long-limbed. So they were sort of spidery in that way, and they were clearly not completely human. Four large spider legs jutted out of their backs, perhaps enabling them to climb walls. Their facial features were also slightly distorted; eyes angled upward at the outer corners, and two long, sharp fangs where a human’s teeth would be. Long, sweeping coats and dresses covered their torsos, and many of the Arachne had brightly colored hair, in hues of red, purple, and blue. There did not seem to be any sick or elderly Arachne in Aith, each one of them radiating youth and perfect health. For all the uncanny aspects, they were attractive enough in their own way.
The city itself was even more magnificent when viewed up close. Webs covered every surface, and spider-people walked around with leashed spiders, ranging from wolf-sized to the size of the one I’d defeated and resurrected. The architecture was exquisite, with ornate temples, ostentatious buildings, and many sculptures and friezes all fashioned from white marble. It would have been even more grand if most of it wasn’t in ruin. It seemed as if this civilization had once been tremendously advanced, but some sort of cataclysmic event had not merely stunted their progress but actually sent them back centuries.
Guards wearing armor fashioned after spiders’ bodies and carrying long poleaxes regarded us with suspicious, cold gazes. The sight of the resurrected war-spider walking alongside me put a gleam of grudging respect in more than a few of their eyes. We traveled down the main street, covered with a smooth, black rock. It led to a huge, white marble palace with high pillars and soaring spires at the heart of the city. On the entrance steps, an Arachne woman awaited us.
