by Dante King
As I neared, I noticed she was young, barely or almost out of her teens. Like all of the Arachne, she was tall, slender, and long-limbed. Blood-red hair cascaded down her subtle shoulders, leaving her not-so-subtle breasts pushed up beneath a blood-red dress. Her irises were an intense hue of violet. Her lips had been painted violet to match those striking eyes. She wore a gold tiara, glittering with many diamonds.
In short, she was regally beautiful, beguilingly sensual.
“That is the Webmaven,” Isu whispered to me, pulling her hood even closer over her head so that it hid her face completely.
“She looks innocent,” I said. “I was expecting some grizzled old hard-ass. Shit, nobody in this city looks a day over 25.”
“That is because they all drink from the fountain,” Isu said. “It keeps them in a state of near-permanent youth. And as for the Webmaven, she may look young, but innocent she most certainly is not.”
“How so?”
“The Webmaven of Aith is not an inherited title. A new Webmaven is chosen every five years in a gladiatorial game in the city’s colosseum. All of the hopefuls, those who wish to become Webmaven, enter the arena with weapons of their choice. The last one standing—that is to say, living—becomes the new Webmaven.”
I stared at the gorgeous Arachne ahead of us with new respect.
“Interesting,” I murmured. “Well, I’ll make sure I keep my guard up around her.”
“You’d better,” Isu said. “She is dangerous. And that is no understatement.”
Chapter Nineteen
As we walked up the steps, I looked at the palace and caught sight of something I hadn’t noticed before: a great number of spider silk cocoons hung from the walls and towers. Human-like figures were trapped within the cocoons, in the manner that spiders wrap up their prey.
The Webmaven was fixing me with an intense stare full of both a desire to intimidate and an entirely different desire.
“Remember what I told you,” Isu whispered to me. “She is far more dangerous than she looks.”
I dismounted Fang and called a halt to my party’s advance. I waited for a signal from the Webmaven.
“Welcome to Aith, Lord Chauzec, God of Death,” she said in a bell-like voice, giving me a slight curtsy.
“Thank you, Webmaven,” I said, bowing slightly.
“You killed my favorite war-spider.” She smiled broadly as if it delighted. “And yet now he stands beside your lizard, seeming to be alive and well.”
“I resurrected him as an undead servant. All those I resurrect serve me unconditionally. I am, after all, the God of Death.”
“Indeed.” She walked down the steps toward me, her gleaming high heels clicking on the polished marble. “The powerful connection I once had with him has been completely severed. But it does not matter. I have many more war-spiders.”
“Look, I’m going to be blunt here. All we want from you is passage for my army through your city. We don’t want gold, food, supplies, or anything of the sort. All we want is to continue on our mission.”
“Perhaps that sounds like a reasonable request to you, an outsider, but passage through Aith is not given lightly. There are many things about our culture and customs that you outsiders cannot understand.” Her eyes drifted up to one of the unfortunate human corpses cocooned in spider silk, hanging from the walls. “You will have to present your case before the Council of Aith. There are many things, as Webmaven, that I have the power to do. But the Council of Aith must decide whether your request will be granted.”
The crawling speed—as in, slowness—of proceedings here was starting to frustrate me, but I knew I had to be diplomatic. The sands of the hourglass were falling, and Rodrick and his scum were no doubt breaking through Lucielle’s fortress’ defenses, but diplomacy was the key. If I managed to communicate to this Council of Aith just how pressing the situation was, they’d surely see that their lives and their city were under as much threat as the rest of Prand.
“How soon can I see the Council of Aith?” I asked the Webmaven.
“I will call a meeting of the council this evening,” she said. “But they will only make a decision on the matter tomorrow; it is our custom. In the meantime, you and your friends will stay in my palace as my guests, under my protection.”
I glanced up at the many corpses in cocoons and wondered whether they’d also been guests under this Webmaven’s protection. Of course, given my night-time wakefulness and my Death powers, there was no way these spider-people were going to sneak up on me and wrap me up as an afternoon snack. The same couldn’t be said of my party though. They’d be vulnerable.
“I just have one request of you,” I said.
“Name it, and perhaps I will grant it.”
“I want all of my party to be housed in one chamber. If you cannot grant this request, then, respectfully, we will camp outside the city walls tonight while we await your council’s decision.”
“It is not too unreasonable a request, so I will grant it. We have a large enough chamber in the palace to house all of you comfortably. I will have servants move some furniture around so taht it will be perfectly fitted out for your comfort. Is there anything else you would ask of me, Lord Chauzec?”
I did want to see her naked, but even with the eyes she was making at me, I couldn’t make such a request—not while we were in public, at least.
“Just one more thing, Webmaven,” I said. “Your name, if you will.”
Her smile broadened, and the gleam in her eyes grew brighter and more inviting.“I am Layna,” she said, curtseying again.
I drew out the silence as I held eye contact, displaying my confidence. “It pleases me to make your acquaintance, Layna.”
After a few more short words, Layna took us into the palace, leading us through a spectacular entrance of mighty yet ornate pillars into a hall of more gleaming marble filled with lifelike statues. I was gazing up at the massive, detailed paintings as I walked along behind Layna (between firing hungry glances at her pert ass) when I saw something that almost made me trip over my own feet: Isu’s unmistakable likeness worked into a painting. I darted a wide-eyed glance at her, but she merely pulled her hood into place over her face. I did a double take, staring intently at the painting to make sure it wasn’t some trick of the light. She didn’t have horns in the picture, and she looked completely human—but it was her. She was likely tired of confessions after our morning talk, but I wasn’t letting her go to sleep tonight without a lot more explaining, that was for sure.
Layna led us up some stairs and down a high-ceilinged passage lined with marble busts of what I assumed were former Webmavens. All were female, and all were beautiful.
“Here, Lord Chauzec.” Webmaven Layna opened a set of ornate wooden doors for me and stood to the side. “You and your party will stay here tonight. Feel free to rest now. If you do not mind, though, I would like to speak with you alone later.”
“Of course, Webmaven Layna.”
“I will send for you,” she said with a bewitching smile. “In the meantime, relax and enjoy our Arachne hospitality. If you or any of your party need anything, simply command the servants, and they will fetch you whatever it is you need.”
In the huge, luxurious chamber were a number of Arachne servants wearing purple silk uniforms, moving beds around and replacing amphoras. They were all young and good-looking, in their own Arachne way. They bowed for us when we entered, but I sensed an air of snootiness radiating from them. Serving outsiders clearly pained them.
Layna left us alone in the chamber, which was more than big enough for each of us to have some private space, created by silk sheet partitions hung up by the servants for the occasion. Though my party was eager to rest, I had questions for Isu.
She meekly followed me out of the chamber when I beckoned her, and we walked down the corridor until we were out of earshot of the rest of the party and the Arachne servants.
“You have a lot you need to explain to me,” I said, tur
ning to her. “The way you’re hiding your face, and how there’s a painting of you in the palace entrance. You told me everything about your role in the Purge; now it’s time to confess about your relationship to this place.”
She let out a long sigh but kept the hood in place, even though there was nobody around.
“This is where I come from,” she murmured. “Aith is where I was born. A very long time ago.”
For a second or two, I couldn’t speak. I had suspected something completely insane, of course, but this was something else.
“Are you lying already?” I said sternly. “You’re not an Arachne.”
“The residents of Aith were not always Arachne, Vance,” she said. “Once, long ago, they were just people. My people. It was a curse. A curse I visited upon them.”
If Isu and I had been sparring, this would have been the uppercut that slipped underneath my defenses.
“You… you did this to them?” I said. “Why?!”
Isu smiled eerily. “This is the place where I became the Goddess of Death. But before I was a goddess, I was a queen, the Queen of Aith. This city was one of the greatest in the known world. I grew that power even more. I brought the majestic art, culture, and learning of this people to new, starry heights. It was a golden age for Aith. Then, that useless, vain fool Lucielle visited.”
“The Charm Goddess, or another Lucielle?”
“I said ‘vain fool,’ did I not?” she said. “There is no mistaking that narcissistic tart for anyone else.”
“You had a bit of a spat then? Did she get jealous when you became a goddess too?”
“Well, she was the one who helped me become a goddess.”
“This story of yours has more twists and turns in it than a crippled snake,” I muttered.
“Lucielle had been expelled from her own lands,” Isu continued, “for reasons she never did disclose to me. When I was Queen of Aith, I’d never met a living god or goddess. So I welcomed the Charm Goddess with open arms when she came knocking at our city gates. She and I quickly became very close. Like sisters. I was an only child, you see, and Lucielle was like the older sister I’d never had. She was the one who taught me the ways of divinity, but our interests differed greatly. She cared only about beauty, but I, as you can imagine, was drawn to the darker sides of things. I studied magic and the old way. I grew obsessed with the idea of becoming not only Fated but a goddess myself. Lucielle helped me realize this ambition. But even as she was helping me on my path to divinity, she was working behind my back to steal my city from me.”
“Like how my uncle tried to rob me of my birthright?”
“Not exactly. You see, the people of Aith worshiped me, not as a goddess, but look at me--what do you see?” She pulled the hood back from her face.
“Well, you’re pretty fucking gorgeous,” I had to admit. “Even among these people, you stand out like a diamond on a pebble beach.”
For a moment a sparkle came to Isu’s eyes before her face settled into a scowl again. “Precisely. I was a good, just ruler, and I was the most beautiful woman in all of Aith. But then, when Lucielle came along, I had an equal. As you can imagine, while many Aithians loved my beauty, many were jealous of it. And Lucielle made these jealous fools a promise, behind my back.”
“And what was that?”
“She promised she could make all of them as beautiful as me. All they had to do was worship her. And she had one minor additional request—that they depose me and make her Queen of Aith.”
“So she was as sneaky as my uncle, huh.”
“A two-faced little bitch.” Isu’s eyes blazed with hatred. “Regardless, I became a goddess and focused all of my energy on growing my powers. Lucielle, meanwhile, was working behind my back, quietly gathering supporters in Aith for her coup. Eventually, despite how good a ruler I was, the people of Aith banded together and demanded that I step aside. And Lucielle had already given them their side of the bargain. She had blessed the oldest fountain in Aith with her powers. Anyone who drank from it would become more beautiful and youthful in appearance. As you can imagine, crowds began to grow around the fountain. I knew I was beaten; the fools had fallen head over heels for the Charm Goddess’ cheap trick. So I stepped down and handed Aith over to that wily sow. But before I left this city, I drew on all of my powers as a goddess and called down a curse on everyone within Aith’s walls who’d betrayed me. Since Lucielle had acted like a spider, weaving a web of lies and deceit in which she had trapped me, I cursed the fountain. Anyone who drank from it would become like spiders themselves. I was not powerful enough to turn them into actual spiders, but I had enough power to partially alter them… and that is how the Arachne came to be.”
“So they might be just a tiny bit pissed if they find you in the palace again.”
“On the contrary,” Isu answered, somewhat haughtily. “That idiot Lucielle knew nothing about governing a city, especially one this size. Just like the people who had fallen so easily for her lies, she only cared about one thing: admiring herself in the mirror. Soon after I left, the city started to crumble. Those with the intelligence and wisdom to not drink from Lucielle’s fountain left the city in droves. Many of them were scholars and inventors and alchemists. Those who kept the culture of Aith alive. They were able to leave since they did not drink from the fountain and were therefore unaffected by my curse.
“Soon after, the city began to decay. The very people who had deposed me soon realized the error they had made. But it was too late. Once you have wronged me, I never forgive. Those who had become like spiders could not leave the gates of Aith, for if they did, they would wither and die. The fountain that had blessed them with beauty and youth became a shackle. To live, they had to drink from it, so they could never leave. Eventually, they realized that everything was Lucielle’s fault, and they forced her out. They have prayed for my return ever since, in the hope that I will forgive them and lift the curse.”
“You’re no longer a god,” I said. “They might have stopped praying to you, and you wouldn’t know it.”
“I doubt that very much.”
“So, if you’re not a goddess anymore, then you can’t lift the curse.”
“Correct. Without my divinity, I couldn’t lift the curse even if I wanted to.”
“But you don’t want to, do you?”
“I never forgive,” Isu said.
We were interrupted by a gasp coming from a couple of yards to my right. It was Layna, who had just stepped around the corner and caught sight of Isu without her hood on.
Well, I figured I was about to find out whether the Arachne had forgiven Isu, even if she wouldn’t ever forgive them.
Chapter Twenty
“The Great Queen has returned,” Webmaven Layna murmured. “The curse will finally be lifted.” Then she dropped to her hands and knees, pressing her forehead to the floor.
I chuckled, folded my arms across my chest, and raised an eyebrow at Isu. “Are you going to tell her or should I?” I asked.
“Get up, Webmaven,” Isu said, a heavy weariness suddenly evident in her voice. “I’m no longer the Queen of Aith, nor am I able to lift the curse on the city. I am no longer a goddess.”
Layna got back to her feet, looking sad and confused. “But it was prophesied that, that when Queen Isu returned, the—”
“Did you not hear me, Webmaven?” Isu asked. “Your prophecy was an expression of a vain, self-serving hope. I’m no longer your queen and no longer a goddess. Any association I had with this city died long ago. I can’t help you, Webmaven. I can’t help any of you. Aith’s golden age was in the past, and in the past is where it will remain. The curse is permanent. It cannot be lifted.”
With that, she turned around and stormed off. I looked back at Layna and found her crestfallen.
“I’m sorry, Layna,” I said. “I had no idea. But I can tell you Isu speaks the truth. She’s just a necromancer now. I’m the only God of Death. I took Isu’s divinity from her.”
Layna nodded sadly. “I see. I know such strange events do occur in the realm of the divine, but you must understand that for a mere mortal, the machinations of the gods are strange and incomprehensible. I thought and hoped her divinity would be permanent. But are you sure she can’t lift the curse?”
“Certain.”
“You don’t think she might be saying it because she’s unhappy about something else, like not being a goddess anymore?”
“I don’t think so.”
Layna looked disappointed, but an ember of hope continued to burn in her angled violet eyes. “I might have something to lift her mood,” she said. “Maybe then, she will change her mind.”
“I honestly don’t think she’s going to change her mind.”
“She might, after she’s had a drink of spider-root tea.”
“Spider-root tea?”
“It puts even the grumpiest of grouches in an amazing mood, making them cheerful and joyous.”
Layna’s look of disappointment turned into a mischievous smile that added even more allure to her already striking beauty. But I could see she wasn’t telling me everything about this spider-root tea.
“There are some side-effects, I’m guessing?” I said.
“Well, you’ll awake with a bit of a headache the next morning, but that’s about it. It’s just like having a few glasses of wine, except that spider-root tea makes you far happier than any alcoholic beverage could.”
“It’s not like greenfoil is it? It won’t affect your judgment, make you see things that aren’t there, knock you out or something, will it?”
“No, it’s very mild. You don’t get intoxicated at all, and you cannot overdose on it; whether you have a few sips or a few jugs, the effect is the same. All it does is brighten your mood. You should try some too. It’s a traditional drink of the Arachne, used on special occasions.”
