Tara and I took up position a few feet inside the tunnel mouth. The narrow opening would hopefully reduce the spiders we faced at any one time to a manageable number. Fastening my shield onto my left arm, I braced myself against Tara, who stood on my right and watched the cavern’s other openings.
My prediction proved correct.
As soon as the timer for the lair run hit zero, a stream of brown swarmed into the cavern from deeper in the warren. The spiders’ shapes were a blur and I couldn’t make out their numbers. Not waiting for Tara’s orders, I infused my mana with lifeblood and cast flare into the onrushing forms as they reached the mouth of our tunnel.
Dragonfire exploded outwards and drenched nearly the entirety of the tunnel.
The spiders were caught unprepared.
Limbs and torsos caught aflame, and eyeballs burst in the sizzling heat. Shrieking in fright, the creatures wheeled about and climbed all over one another in their haste to escape. And as quickly as the tide of brown had surged forward, it rolled back.
Eager to put an end to the spiders’ menace, I stepped forward, palms facing outwards and flames pouring out.
A hand gripped me, holding me back. “Wait,” said Tara. “Don’t be foolish. We will be overrun if we advance into the cavern. Let them come to us.”
She was right. I stepped back into formation and let the flames of my dragonfire die down. Turning my attention back to our foes, I observed the spiders. They had retreated to the far end of the cavern. Dancing along the cavern’s rim, they chittered angrily amongst themselves.
“I make out ten,” Tara said.
“Me too,” said John.
I nodded, agreeing with their assessment. There were more spiders than I’d expected. This could get messy, I thought. Perhaps Tara was right. Perhaps we should have retreated. It was too late for that now though. I was sure the lair creatures would not let us go.
The spiders all sported burns of some sort, but none looked incapacitated. I grimaced. My opening attack had failed to reduce the threat in any meaningful way, and while the creatures appeared afraid to attack again, they also seemed unwilling to let our intrusion go unanswered.
“Laura,” Tara called over her shoulder, “see if you can hit one. Let’s try and provoke the blighters into attacking again.”
“I’ll try,” said Laura doubtfully. “But the way they’re weaving about…”
“Give it your best shot,” Tara said. “Jamie, keep yourself ready.”
I nodded curtly and reformed the construct of dragonfire in my mind.
An arrow sped over my head and crashed into the cavern’s far wall, failing to hit any of its targets. But despite the miss, Laura’s attack spurred the spiders into motion again.
Just not in the way we expected.
Instead of charging towards us in one formless mass, the spiders split into four vectors of brown. Two raced along the left wall, two along the right, two sped straight across the cavern, and the other four… the other four leapt onto the cavern roof and surged towards us upside down.
My eyes widened and I gulped, realising only now why the dimensions of the warren were so odd. Because of course, the spiders didn’t just travel on the ground, the creatures were equally comfortable traversing the walls and roof of their warren.
But despite the unconventional approach of our foes, I reacted quickly. “I’ll handle the ones on the roof!” I shouted. “Keep the others at bay!” Casting flare, I turned my hand upwards.
Dragonfire leapt eagerly from my hands. Strained almost to the limit of my reach, the flames licked the tunnel roof. The incoming spiders attempted to dodge, but their own numbers hampered their efforts.
In a confusing zigzag of motion that failed to steer them clear of the flames path, all four spiders on the roof fell prey to my dragonfire. Well before they reached me or Tara, the creatures lost their perch and fell in a burning mess.
My hands tracked their motion, hoping to catch not just the original four with dragonfire, but the other six that had in the meantime converged on the party.
The spiders proved more cunning than I anticipated. As their burning fellows fell to the ground, the six scattered and scaled the tunnel walls on either side.
I screamed in silent frustration.
I could not target the spiders on the right tunnel wall with flare, not without endangering Tara. Given no other choice, I directed my flames to those on the left wall and the four still writhing on the ground. The rest of the party would have to deal with the three spiders clinging to the right wall.
Dragonfire roared out and scorched rock and spider alike. The three racing along the left wall tried to evade the inferno, but there was nowhere for them to hide, and the only way to run was back. And already, it appeared too late for that.
Trapped squarely within the flames, the spiders caught alight. Near instantly, the sensitive hairs that allowed the creatures to cling to walls, burned to nothingness. The three skittered desperately for purchase, but their fall was inevitable. In a tangled heap, they joined their four burning fellows.
I extended both my arms and focused my dragonfire on the seven curled-up spiders. Some tried to rise and advance once more, but the ongoing damage they sustained was too heavy. With the fate of my foes certain, I glanced to my right to see how the others fared.
They were holding the three spiders at bay—barely.
The creatures seemed wary of the spearmen’s weapons. Dancing along the walls, the spiders feinted forward in attack, but a jab of John’s spear was enough to send them scuttling back.
The reach of Michael and John’s spears served to keep the spiders off the roof and walls, but it did not stop them from rushing Tara. As I watched—helpless to intervene—one of the spiders leapt at the black-haired fighter while the other two menaced her from the ground.
Tara was alive to the danger though. Striking out with her shield, she bashed away the creature with her shield.
Before the dazed spider could recover, Michael surged forward and pinned it with his spear, affording Tara the opportunity to lay into the beast with her club. But with both Michael and Tara momentarily occupied, the other two spiders saw their chance to strike.
With a running leap, both creatures launched themselves through the air. At me.
In horror, I watched the spiders flying towards me. I could not turn my dragonfire upon them—not without releasing the other seven from the flames or hurting Tara.
Tara’s head whipped up, seeming to sense the spiders’ motion. Her club flashed out. She was a fraction too slow though, and the spiders passed by her unharmed.
John, standing tall, thrust downwards with his long spear over me. Relief surged through me as the big man skewered one of the creatures.
But that left the other.
At the last moment, just as the remaining spider crashed into me, I cut off flare and attempted to fend away my attacker with my right arm.
It was not enough.
The nimble creature skittered over my arm too fast to follow, and before I could do aught else, the dog-sized spider wrapped its legs around my shoulders and bit down.
I froze.
In an instant, icy numbness suffused my body and I couldn’t move. My left hand was still extended and locked in position. My eyes stayed staring wide-open, fixed on the scene of the seven charred spiders, still alive, but moving too feebly to be much of a threat anymore. My right hand was unresponsive too.
I am helpless, I despaired.
I swayed as the monster wrapped itself around my neck and dug its claws into me. Sharp pinpricks of pain assailed me. This is bad, I thought inanely. Despite the paralysis, I could still feel everything.
A roar split the air. John, I thought. Next, a shadow flicked across my vision. A thrust spear? Finally, Tara’s club came hurtling down onto the spider—and me. Pain blossomed across my right shoulder, and it felt as my bones there had been crushed.
I di
dn’t begrudge Tara the injury though. As long as she gets the damned spider off me, I don’t care. The weight on my back lifted. The spider leaping off. Fully unbalanced by the motion, I toppled backwards.
Cool hands on my back slowed my fall. Laura’s. Gratitude swelled up in me.
My companions had rescued me.
✽✽✽
I was a helpless spectator to the rest of the battle, but that didn’t concern me much as the others made short work of the remaining spiders.
By the time my paralysis wore off, all ten spiders were dead and I had gained another level.
You have gained in experience and are now a: level 14 Trainee.
I gasped and breathed in deeply as I regained control of my body. “That was not pleasant,” I muttered.
My companions looked up from their labours. Michael and John were piling the corpses together while Tara and Laura kept watch.
“You alright?” Michael asked, walking back to lend me a helping hand up.
“Yeah, thanks,” I said, as I cast lay hands onto myself. Once again, I was the only one who had taken any meaningful damage. This is becoming tiresome, Jamie.
I limped to Tara and Laura’s side. Tara swept her gaze over me, making sure I was alright. “We go on?” she asked, her face betraying no hint of her own feelings on the matter.
I was surprised. Not by the question itself, but that Tara seemed to be leaving the decision to me. I hesitated for a moment before answering, “Yes, this lair is young. Those spiders we killed must be the bulk of the lair’s creatures. There can’t be many more left.”
There couldn’t be, could there?
Tara nodded, her face still expressionless. “Which way, then?” she asked, pointing out the three exits.
I gazed at the tunnels in question. The two on either end were smaller than the one in the middle. “We check all three,” I answered, “but let’s leave the large one for last.”
We set off in a single file down the left tunnel. In short order, the tunnel shrank even further, forcing us to duck our heads and walk bent over.
It left us vulnerable, but it at least meant the spiders could only come at us one at a time. Unless more of the damn creatures are buried underfoot, I thought sourly. To guard against the possibility of that, Tara took the lead and jabbed her spear in the ground as we went.
In the end, no attack came, and the seemingly unfinished side tunnel came to an abrupt end twenty yards in. Relieved not to be forced to fight in such close quarters, we backed out and explored the right tunnel.
It too was empty, and stopped short in a wall of bare soil just a few yards in. More than anything else, the two unfinished tunnels were evidence of how young the lair was. Ten spiders in a warren only days old, I thought, chewing on my lip. What will a fully matured lair look like? And what will it take to claim such a lair?
We returned to the cavern and prepared ourselves. It was in all of our minds that whatever still occupied the warren, likely awaited us in the main tunnel.
✽✽✽
We were five minutes into the main tunnel before we encountered our first branch. A smaller passage opened out on the left.
“Wait up,” said Tara as she drew to a halt across the opening. She tilted her head to the side. “You hear that?”
Quietening my breathing, I listened. A low-pitched hum emanated from the tunnel.
“What is that?” John whispered.
Frowning, I strained my ears. The noise was familiar. It almost sounded like… chittering.
“More spiders,” Laura said, echoing my own thoughts. The others dropped their hands to their weapons, and I readied flare. For a drawn-out moment, we waited.
But when after nearly a minute the expected attack did not materialise, I let the spellform I held in readiness dissipate. The chittering continued unabated.
“We have to go in,” I said.
Tara glanced to me.
“If whatever is in there hasn’t attacked yet, it isn’t likely to, and we can’t wait here all day.”
“Alright, but just you and me,” Tara said. She turned to the others. “You three stay here. If anything comes up the tunnel, shout. And if whatever is in this side passage is too much for us to handle, we will come straight back. Be ready.”
The others nodded and we set off.
The side passage carried on straight for less than five yards before bending sharply to the right. Hearing Tara’s sharp intake of breath as she rounded the corner, I hurried forward to join her but was stopped short—just as she had been—by the sight that greeted me.
The tunnel had opened up into another small chamber that was filled with dozens of hanging cocoons. Below them were scores of little spiders, feeding hungrily on whatever lay within.
It’s a nursery, I realised.
Standing in the centre of chamber, with its forelegs raised in warning, was a single adult spider. It was guarding the young—which explained why it hadn’t attacked yet.
Tara glanced at me, the question on her mind clear in her expression.
To be sure of what we were facing—and what had to be done—I picked out one of the small and helpless looking spiders and cast analyse upon it.
The target is a level 2 brown spiderling. It has no Magic, meagre Resilience, is gifted with Might, and has low Craft.
“We have to burn them out,” I said grimly.
Tara opened her mouth to protest, but I forestalled her. “If we don’t, we can’t claim the lair, and,” I added, pointing to the spiderlings, “they may not look like much now, but in a few days or weeks’ time they will be fully grown. What happens after that? With hundreds of the brown spiders running around, the foothills will be closed to the Outpost for a long time to come.”
Tara closed her mouth and nodded reluctantly. “How do we do it?”
“Get behind me,” I said. After Tara moved into position, I hefted the torch I still carried and flung it into the room.
The flaming stick fell amongst the webbed cocoons and set them alight. And though the fire spread neither fast enough nor hot enough to burn the room’s occupants, the spiders didn’t know that. In a flood of brown, they fled the only way they could—directly towards us and my waiting dragonfire.
It was over in seconds.
The spiderlings crisped into near nothingness almost instantly. Only the nursery’s guard—the sole adult spider— threatened to put up any sort of fight, but even it failed to reach me through the scorching flames.
When the deed was done, more than two hundred small carcasses littered the ground, and I gained another level.
You have gained in experience and are now a: level 15 Trainee.
In disgust, I dismissed the Trials message. The spiders may have proven themselves hostile, yet the killing I had done in this room still left a foul taste in my mouth.
Without a backward glance, I swung around and left. Wordlessly, Tara followed on my heels.
The others seemed to sense our mood when we rejoined them and silently fell into position. As we made our way deeper into the lair, I hoped that whatever else we encountered in the warren was nothing like what we had found in the nursery.
Chapter 26
390 days until the Arkon Shield falls
I got my wish, but not in the way I had hoped.
Ten minutes after leaving the nursery, the five of us were stretched out flat on a ledge and staring down on what was without a doubt our last obstacle to claiming the warren.
The central tunnel had continued its arrowlike path for another hundred yards before abruptly ending onto a ledge overlooking an enormous cavern. Its gaping emptiness of space dwarfed the other stone chambers we had traversed. Flat on our stomachs, it had taken us a few minutes to carefully work our way to the ledge’s edge.
Our abundance of caution was not unwarranted.
There was a single occupant in the cavern. A creature from our worst nightmares—a mammoth spider.
I cast analyse on the monster again, in the futile hope of somehow having misinterpreted its information the first time.
The target is a level 50 brown spider queen. It has meagre Magic, mediocre Resilience, exceptional Might, and low Craft.
The queen appeared asleep and seemed unaware of us looking down on her from above. She was as large as a house—if not bigger. Each of her hairy brown limbs was twice as large as me, and her flat torso would have made a good-sized chamber, one that all five of us could have occupied comfortably.
She looked impossible to defeat.
We must find a way. Somehow. The warren couldn’t be secured without the queen’s death and it was crucial we claimed it—for more than just the Outpost’s sake.
Everything I had told Tara earlier was true: if the warren was left unclaimed it would get stronger, and the number of brown spiders in the region would multiply.
Yet that hadn’t been the whole truth.
Claiming the lair, I was sure would also yield other benefits. A lair was not a dungeon, but I was betting—or hoping—that the Trials would reward us with Traits for being the first to clear the warren.
I couldn’t walk away, no matter how difficult the task appeared. This is what you wanted, I told myself. This is what you need to get stronger. I had to take the risk. We had to face the queen in battle. But how do we kill her?
No matter how desperately I wished to slay the creature, it would do me no good if I could not come up with a viable plan. My thoughts raced.
Tara tapped me on the shoulder. Silently, she motioned me and the others back.
I grimaced, not wanting to go, but we couldn’t talk here, and an idea had already started to take shape in my mind. It was a madcap plan to be sure, yet with the others’ help, I was certain it could be made workable.
Tara led us back up the main tunnel, all the way to the nursery before stopping. “Alright, people, what the hell was that?”
Although she addressed the question to the party at large, it was to me she looked. “That,” I said slowly, “was the lair boss.”
Overworld (Dragon Mage Saga Book 1): A fantasy post-apocalyptic story Page 23
