Still thinking about the throne, he walked to the edge of the balcony. It was so odd seeing daylight shining down into the chamber where so many enemies and traitors had met their fate in the dark. Asp leaned forward suddenly. The brilliant rays of sunshine glistened upon something he’d never seen before. Spurning the slow, hidden stairs, he leaped over the side of the balcony and landed lightly on the chamber floor.
As if in a trance, Asp walked to within twenty-one feet of the sunlit wall. There, glittering and sparkling like a vein of precious stones, was a spectacular image. Like a giant blue spider, it seemed, and yet somehow elegant, rimmed with darker blue fading to black. But within its abdomen, there was another figure, seemingly made of delicate glass. An Elf maiden sleeping, holding a small Elf child snug to her chest. The way the sun shone upon it, radiant with a prism of color, she and the child almost looked alive.
Asp had been to this chamber many, many times, but had never seen the image before. How it had gotten there while the Spider King ruled Vesper Crag . . . he had no idea. He turned and looked at the chamber floor leading up to the sunlit wall. There was a blackened trail, quite wide actually, running from the balcony side of the chamber all the way to the image. If he didn’t know better, he’d have thought the image of the spider maiden was burned into the wall. Asp laughed. That was ridiculous. To burn crystal into the rock of the mountain would take a source of heat beyond his reckoning.
Asp was furious by the time he’d finished his search of Vesper Crag. He’d found more dead Gwar than he’d ever care to think about, and he’d had to turn them over, dig them out, and sometimes even put them back together to see if one bore a resemblance to the missing Spider King. He’d scrutinized every corpse for his strange hair, slanted eyes, and narrow ears—the marks of a half-breed—but he’d found no such being. There was only one place left to search.
The water.
Asp hated water with a vengeance. But he had to know for sure.
Leaping lithely from cliff to cliff, Asp found several pools where Gwar corpses floated. None of these were the one he was looking for. But as he prepared to jump to the next cliff, Asp saw something a little farther down. There was a large portion of one of the castle’s many turrets smashed on the ledge below. All of the castle’s turrets were smashed, but there was something peculiar in the debris near this one.
Fifty feet was nothing for a Drefid, so he leaped down. And there, half-crushed beneath several tons of broken stone, was what at first he took to be a Gwar and a Warspider, seemingly killed at the same time. Asp stared. This was not two creatures but one. Had she been washed this far out of the stronghold? Asp wondered. Would he have even removed her chains, her harness?
Then he saw something that made his stomach lurch. The creature’s head . . . there was the strange hair he had been looking for, the ears, too. Asp reached down and rotated the head, saw that two of the eyes were slanted. It’s him. Asp could scarcely believe it. So the Spider King had gone back to dabbling in the dark arts, eh? And then what? You die a miserable death, drowned like a cur.
Asp would have a lot to report when he returned to his clan and then to Earth. He laid the head down and thought, I was never convinced you were up for the jo—
The thing lurched forward, the fangs extended and fell, piercing Asp’s thigh.
The Drefid shrieked and kicked the head away. It fell limp beneath the water and bubbled.
Asp held his leg and tried to stand. He lost his balance and fell into the larger pool below. Swimming like a mad thing, he made it to the shore, extended his claws, and scratched his way a few feet away from the water. His body started to spasm; he was wracked with agony, as if things were being ripped out of his body.
Acknowledgments
WTB: Venom and Song was an absolutely thrilling book to write. But it was also enormously time consuming. If it weren’t for my wife, Mary Lu’s, generosity with time and responsibilities, there’s no way I’d have ever been able to do my part. Gorgeous, this book is a jewel in your crown. Thank you so much.
I’d also like to thank my kids for understanding why Dad just had to write sometimes. And thank you for being ready to throw the football around, play Ping-Pong and video games, watch movies, or even just talk with me when I stepped away from the computer.
Thank you to my extended family—Mom and Dad, Mom and Pop Dovel, Leslie, Jeff, Brian, Ed, Andy, and Diana—for always asking and always encouraging.
Thank you to my friends for still being there when my deadline is at last met.
Thank you to my incredible readers who are passionate and generous.
Thank you to my students at Folly Quarter Middle School. You inspire me more than you’ll ever know.
Thank you to the special venues that have hosted Christopher and me on our various writing excursions: the Banshee and the Radisson in Scranton, DuClaws and O’Lordan’s, Panera Bread, and ten or twelve other places we love but cannot remember! LOL!
CH: Without the encouragement of my bride, my rib, I would not have authored any books, let alone this one. Jenny, it is your support, seemingly boundless love, and enthusiasm for my work that has sustained this craft through arduous turning points. Thank you for believing in me and being a woman who prays for her man’s success.
To Evangeline, Luik, and Judah, may you know that your daddy lives for another Kingdom, and does everything with passion for his King.
Jason Clement (www.jasonjclement.com) deserves a hearty toast for assisting Wayne and me on our many ventures into web-dom. Without your friendship, generosity, and creativity, we’d be stuck in the throes of birthing HTML and Java, thinking both were new forms of coffee.
I certainly must thank all the online Elves of The Underground for their heartfelt enthusiasm and appreciation for our writing. You have made our work 3-D in that the stories resonate in your actual lives, not just some fictional characters we put together. Thank you for going with us! And to those who completed (or even attempted) the ARG, well done!
About the Authors
WAYNE THOMAS BATSON is the author of five best-selling novels: Isle of Swords, Isle of Fire, and The Door Within Trilogy. His books have earned awards and nominations including Silver Moonbeam, Mom’s Choice® Silver, Cybil, Lamplighter, The Clive Staples, and American Christian Fiction Writers Book of the Year. A middle school reading teacher in Maryland for more than nineteen years, Wayne tailors his stories to meet the needs of young people. When last seen, Wayne was tromping around the Westfarthing with his beautiful wife and four adventurous children.
For more on Wayne, go to www.enterthedoorwithin.blogspot.com.
CHRISTOPHER HOPPER, whose other books include Rise of the Dibor and The Lion Vrie, has often been called a modern-day renaissance man. Christopher is also a record producer and recording artist with ten CDs, a youth pastor, a painter, president of a Christian discipleship school, an entrepreneur, and a motivational speaker for conferences and schools across the United States and Europe. Christopher has dedicated his life to positively affecting the culture of his generation and longs to see young people inspired to live meaningful and productive lives. He resides with his wife, three children, and three rangesteeds in the mysterious Thousand Islands of northern New York.
For more on Christopher, go to www.christopherhopper.com.
The Underground Bonus Scenes
The following are scenes cut from the original manuscript to either help keep the story more concise or, often times, eliminate inconsistencies. A careful reader may be able to spot these nuances, from deleted text to shifts in tone to complete name changes. We hope they’re not only fun additions to the book, but provide a few opportunities for some questing of your own.
—WAYNE THOMAS BATSON AND CHRISTOPHER HOPPER
BONUS SCENE
1
The Dark Veil
Authors’ Notes: While this scene has some great character insights, we decided to start the book with action and introduce the cast to new readers more slowl
y.
“WE MUST not delay!” Grimwarden urged the others behind him, shouting over a crack of thunder. “Our change of course toward the Dark Veil put the enemy off our scent for a time, but they’ve caught it again and will charge even harder on their home soil.” He pointed into the twilight to a thick, irregular band of gray that wound like an ashen serpent through the rocks and thickets behind them. It was the Spider King’s forces, a legion . . . at least, and now just a few leagues behind them. Grimwarden lunged ahead and their group was off and running once more.
“Are you sure we’ll make it?” asked Mr. Wallace, breathing heavily. “Before the . . . before the enemy catches up?”
“We’ll make it,” grunted Grimwarden in reply.
“I trust you know what you’re doing,” said Goldarrow, a sudden purplish-white light flickering on her face. “But it would help to know why we travel this way, so close to oblivion.” Thunder crackled again, then rolled, deep and ominous.
Lumbering across the rocky terrain, Grimwarden replied, “Hardly the time for long explanations, Elle.”
He could tell me if he chose, thought Goldarrow. She smirked affectionately. He’s grown even more stubborn in his old age.
The narrow line of cloaked Elves fled northward beneath the shadowy gaze of Vesper Crag looming in the east. Wreathed in shreds of clouds, and obscured by the ever-falling curtain of gray ash, its black pinnacle lurked always in the Elves’ peripheral vision.
Their forward view was little better. The last light of a crimson sunset cast the mountains ahead in a bloody glow, the Dark Veil, summoning prey for its next feeding. Ever-present flashes of lighting connected sky to land in a dizzying display of electrical chaos that tore through the heavens and shattered boulders. This was the realm of the Spider King, and those who raced through the crook of its basin were trespassers, hunted by the elements and by the creatures that dwelled there.
One by one the Elven warriors made their way along the lonely footpath, weaving between jutting rock shards one moment, balancing precariously on the edges of long crevasses filled with luminous lava flows the next. It was even difficult for the Elves who’d been trained for such missions. For the young lords, it was arduous.
Tommy stumbled to one knee. Kat reached to assist, but Tommy shook his head and said, “Thanks, but I can do it.” He was up in no time and trudged on.
Kat frowned. I just wanted to help.
With the fading light, each step became all the more perilous, and the environment was far from welcoming.
“I don’t know how much more of this I can take,” said Jimmy, coughing harshly. The air was as inhospitable as the treacherous landscape: caustic, filled with the overpowering scents of sulfur and lye. It stung Jimmy’s eyes. He was only a few yards back from Tommy and Kat, but he could barely see them through the sweat and tears. He sighed, thrust a hand through his choppy red hair, and grunted as he leaped from rock to rock. “This is killin’ me feet.”
“Tough going,” said Johnny, coming alongside Jimmy and giving him a hand.
“Thanks, mate,” Jimmy said.
Johnny nodded, but he strained to see ahead to where Jett was carrying Autumn. “Jett better be careful.”
“One way to find out,” said Kiri Lee, trotting lightly behind them. “I’ll go see.” She sprang into the air and climbed an invisible arc over dozens of Elves, including Kat and Tommy. “This isn’t so hard,” she called down to them.
“Show-off,” muttered Kat.
Kiri Lee landed near Jett, hitting the ground running. “How is she?”
Jett cradled Autumn in his arms and turned. “She’s not in as much pain now,” he said. “For a while though . . . she just couldn’t stop crying. Claris told me Autumn’s not out of the woods yet, but if I have anything to say about it, she’s going to make it.”
Kiri Lee marveled at Jett. He wasn’t sweating. He wasn’t out of breath. He didn’t look the least bit tired. Jett wasn’t just strong for his age. He was strong for any age. “Okay, Jett,” Kiri Lee said. “Be safe. I’ll go tell Johnny . . . and I’ll keep praying.” With that, she was back in the air, jogging over the ragtag line of soldiers.
“Getting hard to see,” Jett called ahead to the Sentinels.
“We could go faster, Guardmaster,” said Mr. Spero, “if we could kindle a few torches. This terrain is bad enough without trying to navigate it blindly.”
“Yes, torches!” Mr. Wallace agreed. “With more light we could—”
“Torches, nay!” Grimwarden snarled. “That would be the very worst thing we could do.”
Why? Goldarrow wondered. She had never ventured this route after the Spider King had come to power, but for the life of her, she couldn’t understand why they couldn’t use torches. We didn’t come all this way, through deadly peril, just to lose the young lords to pitfalls in the dark. “Grimwarden, how much farther?”
“Almost there!” Grimwarden pointed to a pair of boulders with a narrow gap between them not more than a mile ahead.
Goldarrow harrumphed. She remembered the Guardmaster’s words: “I believe our preparations will be more than adequate.” But as she looked over her shoulder and saw the enemy closing in she wondered.
“How do you fare, young Jett?” Claris asked, stepping up beside the Elf Lord. He carried Autumn in his arms easily enough, but she noted a change in his demeanor as they neared the mountains ahead.
“I’m fine,” Jett answered without taking his eyes from the horizon. “But I’m not sure how Autumn’s doing. I mean, up there,” he said, gesturing with his head. “Something’s waiting for us. We’ve got to keep—”
“She’ll be safe, Jett. We are not without resources even in the darkest of circumstances. This is, after all, your land.”
Jett cast the red-headed Elf a curious glance, but was quick to maneuver around a rock outcrop just before him. My land? They were nearly to the twin boulders that marked the entrance to the mountain pass. The Dark Veil. Such an ominous name for an even more ominous-looking place. He knew something was waiting to meet them. Just beyond those rocks. . . .
Grimwarden was the first to slip through the gap between the twin boulders and disappear into the shadows. Jett and the rest of the teens looked on as Goldarrow went after Grimwarden, followed by Claris and a few of the other senior Sentinels. Before long it was the young lords’ turn to follow. As soon as they passed through the entrance, they understood why it was called the Dark Veil. In this place, mountains blotted out all direct rays of the setting sun and turned what little ambient twilight there was into a thick, membranous curtain of darkness. The entire party slowed to a walk.
Tommy held a hand up in front of his face and was grateful to be able to see his hand, but beyond that distance, he could not see anything else except for eerie silhouettes.
“You look creepy,” said Kat. She waited. “That is still you, right?”
“Yeah . . . it’s me,” Tommy replied. “It just feels like we should be quiet in here.”
“Tommy’s quite correct,” said Goldarrow, just a shadow suddenly beside them. She had dropped back to check on the lords. “No speech at all would be preferable. But if you must communicate, no louder than whispers. We need to listen for the Spider King’s forces to enter the Veil. We will not see them. . . . The Gwar have the advantage there, being able to see in the dark.”
“Even in this?” Tommy asked.
“The Veil will obscure their sight as well,” she said. “But still, they will see much better than we can.”
“Why can’t we light torches?” asked Kat. “I don’t understand.”
“Nor do I,” said Goldarrow. “But while it makes me uncomfortable to stray through the dark like this, I am mindful that our leader is both noble and wise. If he leads us into peril, it is only to save us from greater peril.”
“I’m just saying,” Kat replied, but thought better of finishing her sentence.
“One of the assets we Elves pride ourselves on the most is trust
,” Goldarrow added. “You will see in time why Grimwarden deserves all of yours.”
Grimwarden had crept back to within a few feet of this conversation, but after hearing it, he returned to the front of the line. Not in recent memory could he remember ever feeling so encouraged. I’m glad you’re back, Elle, he thought as he strode farther into the dark.
BONUS SCENE
9
High Treason
Authors’ Notes: As fun as they are to read, we had to cut these scenes of the other characters on the chute line to allow for scenes we thought were more important to the story line. Because we didn’t run these, there are inconsistencies between the final novel and the section that follows. Can you find the inconsistencies?
“DUCK, KIRI LEE!!” yelled Jimmy.
She did, dropping into the splits at the edge of the flet. Fangs clicking and snapping, a large arachnid sailed over Kiri Lee’s head and plummeted like a stone.
“Lords, take the chute line!” Grimwarden’s voice—high and agitated—blasted from around the bend of the tree trunk. “I’ll defend your retreat!” He raised his siege axe with both hands. “Go, now!”
Johnny kept a darting Warspider at bay with his short sword while he kept Autumn safely behind him. He lunged at the creature and yelled, “Autumn, use your speed, get hooked up to the chute line, and GO!”
“Don’t you think I’m trying?” she yelled back, racing short distances to-and-fro behind him. “You’re in the way! And—watch—where— you’re—swinging—that sword!”
The spider retreated a few paces, and Autumn found an opening. She flashed to the edge of the flet, clicked her hook into place, and leaped. As gravity took her away, she saw Kiri Lee standing at the edge of the flet struggling to get her harness on. What is she doing? Then Kiri Lee let her harness fall to the flet and turned her back on the action behind her. She seemed to be in a trance, staring out over the enormous drop into the forest. Two spiders had separated from the melee on the flet and were creeping up behind her.
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