Starspawn

by Wendy N. Wagner

  Boruc skidded to a stop beside her. “Merciful ancestors,” he breathed.

  And then she registered what she was seeing.

  By the ancestors, it was big—probably three times as tall as the other deep ones, and twice as broad, surrounded in a strange mist of rainbow colors. Its eyes were two black beads in its sagging green face, the eyes of a creature brought up from the darkest, foulest depths of the sea. Jendara’s head hurt from the pulsing shroud of colors.

  Tam began to whisper, but it was just a stream of incoherent sound. Jendara kicked aside the dead deep one and stepped into a fighting stance. She’d fought ogres and giants. She could handle a giant fish-man.

  One of the ordinary deep ones rushed forward, a spiked club in its hand. Boruc sidestepped and punched the creature. It went stumbling down the tunnel. Good. Jendara didn’t need them distracting her from the Elder.

  The Elder roared, and Boruc went stiff, as if the sound had frozen him. Jendara darted in, slashing into the meat of its massive thigh. The creature raked out at her, and she ducked just in time to hear its claws screech on the stone walls. A net of spider silk shot over Jendara’s head, wrapping the Elder’s clawed hand tight. A second passed her by, and a third shot out to wrap around the nearest deep one like a sticky purse seine net. The deep one toppled over, its arms and legs sealed to its side. One of its comrades dropped to its knees to help free it.

  Jendara cursed under her breath. The small distraction Yerka had provided was over. This was the worst sort of battle, caught between two gigantic enemies. They had to get beyond the Elder before the spider could catch any of them.

  Then a chest-high wall of water whooshed down the tunnel, sending her staggering. The cold nearly made her drop her sword. She gasped for air as water sprayed up into her face.

  The Elder laughed, a bass rumbling. The tunnel was filling fast, and the gigantic deep one would be in his natural element.

  “Tam!” She paddled one-handedly. “Boruc!” She couldn’t see them anywhere. They had to get out of this tunnel before they drowned.

  Tam bobbed up to the surface. “The spider,” he gasped. “Can it swim?”

  She didn’t know. The spiders she knew of were all land creatures, but this one was too alien for her to guess anything about. Ants could live a long time underwater. Why not spiders? But getting to the ocean was still their best chance. They had to risk passing the spider.

  “Try to swim under it!” Tam shouted. He and Boruc dove beneath the surface of the water.

  Jendara forced herself under. Tam and Boruc lay on the bottom of the tunnel, wriggling and kicking as if weighed down by lead weights.

  “Help!” A weak hand grabbed Jendara’s pant leg. Yerka pulled herself closer, pressing her bleeding body against Jendara. A trickle of blood ran from the corner of her mouth.

  Jendara blinked at her stupidly. How in all hells was Yerka even alive? They were underwater, and yet she was talking and breathing as if everything was normal. The blood didn’t even cloud the water.

  “Help me,” Yerka begged, and realization dawned on Jendara.

  “This is all an illusion!” Jendara stared around herself. Tam and Boruc were struggling to swim down the tunnel. The last of the deep ones was trying to swim, but the Elder stood unaffected, its eyes fixed on the tunnel ceiling and the spider making its way along it.

  The spider flailed as if it had been hit with a wall of water. Then with a shriek of what sounded like rage, the spider shot forward along the ceiling. It dropped onto the Elder’s back and drove its fangs deep into the beast’s thick neck. The Elder screeched in pain and grabbed the spider’s nearest leg. There was a sickening pop as it ripped free. The spider reared back in pain and then drove its fangs down again.

  Boruc sat up, no longer caught up in the illusion of drowning. He shook Tam.

  The Elder staggered to his feet. The spider’s carapace groaned as it ground into the stone ceiling. The spider hissed and its legs jerked. A strand of silk shot out, catching on the tunnel wall. The spider flew off the Elder’s back.

  Black, rubbery tentacles burst out of the floor, closing around the spider. With a wave of the Elder’s hand, the tentacles yanked the spider back into the Elder’s grip, the spider struggling mightily. The titans were completely absorbed in their own battle.

  Yerka pulled at Jendara’s leg, nearly toppling her. “Listen to me,” she whispered.

  Jendara dropped beside the woman and glanced from her to the monsters grappling in the hallway. “We’ve got to get out of here.”

  “I won’t make it.” Yerka said weakly. The spider’s poison, Jendara realized. It was beginning to take effect. “I killed Bothrax—Fithrax’s father. Bothrax would have never let the denizens of Leng use the star scepter. The gods will judge me for his death, but the denizens of Leng forced me.”

  “You chose to work for them,” Jendara said.

  Yerka made a humorless smile. “You believe that? They make slaves. That’s what they do. You felt what it was like.”

  The tunnel shook. The Elder rammed the spider into the tunnel wall again, and the spider shrieked, an otherworldly sound that made Jendara’s ears ache. Tam and Boruc scrambled to Jendara’s side.

  Jendara jerked her attention back to Yerka. “Tell me more about them.”

  “They are not of our world,” Yerka whispered. Her eyes rolled up in her head.

  “I don’t understand.” Jendara shook the woman. “They’ll kill us, Yerka. All of us! Just to get the ulat-kini’s god.”

  “Don’t you wonder what they could do with that god?” Yerka’s voice was nearly inaudible. “They are not of our world,” she repeated. And then she went limp.

  The Elder choked as a loop of silk closed around its throat. The spider closed its massive legs around the creature.

  Boruc grabbed Jendara’s shoulder. “The wall is crumbling,” he warned. “The whole tunnel could cave in.”

  She scrambled to her feet. “We’ve got to get to the sea.”

  Bones groaned as the spider squeezed the Elder tighter and tighter. The two beasts all but filled the tunnel. But their attention was on each other.

  “Come on!” she shouted and broke into a run. Rock pattered down from the ceiling. The vibrations of their boots were finishing what the goliaths had started.

  Jendara saw a space between the bottom of the spider’s carapace and the floor and launched herself into it. She hit the ground and skidded. A boulder smashed down just inches to her left, but she was through. She could smell the sea breeze in the dark ahead of her. She jumped up. “Hurry!”

  They ran down the hallway. Rock smashed and clattered. The Elder roared.

  And then a bolt of spider silk wrapped around Jendara’s middle, yanking her backward.

  24

  SALTWATER

  For a moment, Jendara hung in open space, clawing and kicking at air. Then she smashed against a massive block of stone that had once been part of the ceiling. She slid to the ground, the air knocked out of her. Her sword lay just out of reach.

  “Jendara!” someone shouted, but the only light came from a broken jar of seaweed, casting more shadows than blue-green light. The line of spider silk sagged on the ground beside a tendril of the luminescent stuff.

  The spider’s claw suddenly shot out from behind Jendara, raking across her leg, ripping open fabric and drawing blood. Jendara found her breath. The stone slab at her back had saved her life. Now it alone stood between her and the spider, giving her just a little room to maneuver. She threw herself forward to reach her sword.

  Her fingers closed on the hilt just as the silk thread went tight, dragging her sideways around the big boulder. She twisted around and hacked at the silk.

  Now she could see the spider. The falling rocks had closed off the tunnel and half-buried the monster. Its blood spread out in a blackish lake around its forelegs. It yanked on the thread of silk, drawing Jendara closer.

  She slashed at the thread. With the spider’s back
half buried, it couldn’t spin out more silk. It struggled to free itself, but Jendara knew it didn’t have much life left in it.

  It tugged again, pulling Jendara very nearly into its face. Its forelegs curled around her, the claws biting into her back and legs. The creature’s eyes flashed.

  It had caught her, and now it was going to punish her.

  “No way,” Jendara growled, and drove her sword into one of its four red eyes.

  The sword sank in up to the hilt. Blood burbled out of the wound. The spider bucked and shrieked and twitched, and Jendara threw her weight into the blade, enlarging the hole in the creature’s head. It made one last high-pitched shriek and then went still.

  “Dara!” Tam shouted. “You okay?”

  “Yeah.” She pulled her sword free and slashed at the silk binding her. Even the blade’s hilt was covered in gore.

  “Let me help you.” He ripped off a hunk of the silk wrapped around her waist. She took a handful and wiped off her hands, and then her sword before sheathing it. “The lantern broke,” he added.

  “We can use seaweed,” Boruc called. He gathered up the stuff. “It’ll help a bit.”

  Somewhere behind the wall of rubble, more rock tumbled and crashed. “Let’s hurry,” Boruc warned. “The whole thing could collapse.”

  They moved as quickly as they could. With their adrenaline ebbing, they all moved slower, their aches and pains becoming apparent. The grade of the tunnel grew steeper, and they had to fight to keep their footing.

  Then Boruc’s boot skidded on the gritty floor. Jendara caught his arm and reached out for Tam to steady her, but he moved too slowly. Boruc tumbled down, and his weight pulled Jendara down after him, rolling down the steep hill.

  And then there was no tunnel floor, only falling.

  Jendara hit water with a tremendous splash. She sank a long time, but she was already swimming for the surface. Her gear was an anchor, but she swam harder. She could see a faint glow off to her right and fought to reach it.

  Her lungs protested, but she forced onward, moving always upward and to her right. Her vision grew spotty, and then suddenly she broke the surface of the water and was breathing again.

  Tam came up beside her, gasping and choking. “Boruc?”

  She wiped water from her eyes and looked around. They had come out beside the rocky outer wall of the island, the water darkened by late afternoon shadows. They must be on the island’s southeast side, with the bulk of the land between them and the low afternoon sun. “Boruc!” she called.

  He burst out of the water in an explosion of spray, gasping and flailing. “Gods damn!” he managed to choke.

  She had to laugh a little. She blinked away salt and looked around again. Yes, they were on the east side of the island, but now she could see that the tunnel had dumped them out very near the southernmost tip. They just had to reach that little promontory of rocks, and they’d be nearly to the Milady’s grotto.

  “Come on,” she said, and swam for the shore.

  * * *

  No one met them on the ship. They changed into dry clothes and ate a quick meal of bread and cheese in worried silence. Every bite stuck in Jendara’s throat as if it were made of thistles.

  She cleared her throat. “I have to get Kran back,” she said. “I don’t know where Vorrin and the others are, and this goes beyond anything I’d ask of my crew. I want you two to stay here and ready the Milady. If we don’t come back, the ship is yours.”

  Tam put down his mug. “Are you telling me to leave you and the captain behind?” Tam reached across the galley table and crushed her hand in his. “Are you crazy?”

  Boruc shook his head. “We’d never leave you, Dara. Not you two and not Kran. You’re family.”

  Tam got to his feet. “Plus, you’re forgetting that Glayn’s out there. I’m not leaving without him, and that’s that.”

  Jendara swallowed a lump in her throat that wasn’t bread. “We could all die.”

  Boruc shrugged. “You can die any day. What’s new?”

  Jendara shoved her sandwich aside. “Then let’s go. Sunset’s not for another hour or so. We might be able to find Vorrin before the ulat-kini start their ritual.”

  * * *

  Jendara half expected to see Vorrin standing beside the stagnant waters of the pool in the boulevard, or if not there, then striding out of a corridor, eager to see her. She needed to see him. Tam and Boruc would help her, but she wasn’t sure she could go up against moon-beasts and the black robes of Leng without Vorrin at her side. She was no coward, but those things frightened her.

  She caught Tam and Boruc both glancing around as if they, too, had hoped to find Vorrin up here. They didn’t say anything, but she had known them too long not to predict their response. She tried to find something encouraging to say, and settled for just walking faster. With or without Vorrin, she was going to have to reach the Star Chapel.

  Her footsteps didn’t sound quite right as she walked, the noises somehow muffled, as if a heavy fog swallowed them up. She didn’t like it. Every other time she’d walked down the big boulevard with its purple skylights, the space had echoed with the empty sound of an abandoned mausoleum.

  She rubbed at her arms. She’d changed out of her wet coat, but this one still felt clammy. The fog must be moving in, she supposed. That was all. The fog.

  Boruc tapped her shoulder. “Look. The chapel doors are closed.”

  He was right. Up ahead, the great gold-leafed doors had been shut tight. That end of the boulevard stood dark and unwelcoming. Jendara didn’t like that, either. She hadn’t realized how much she had been counting on a moment or two of clean sunlight before all of this began.

  “I guess we have to go check it out,” she said.

  “Someone’s coming down the far tunnel,” Tam said.

  His hearing was better than hers. “I don’t hear anything.”

  He cocked his head. “It was faint. Like a shout. Or maybe—”

  “A bark!” She laughed. “Tam, that’s Fylga!” Jendara raced toward the sound.

  The two men hurried to catch up with her. Far up ahead, a bobbing yellow dot of light reassured her. Yellow, not the blue of the deep ones’ weed lights.

  “Vorrin!” she called.

  With a happy bark, Fylga threw herself against Jendara’s legs, licking at her hands and arms. Jendara caught the dog’s collar. “You wonderful mutt,” she grumbled, rubbing the dog’s ears and chin.

  “Dara?” Vorrin’s voice echoed off the tunnel walls. She could see him now, running full out. “Get back to the boulevard! Run!”

  She loosed the dog and did as ordered. Whatever chased her husband and friends had them scared.

  That didn’t bode well.

  She hit the end of the tunnel and made a hard left. Jendara glanced around and then led them into the next tunnel intersecting the boulevard. It had been safe yesterday, and it was narrow enough she thought their crew could hold it if it came down to making a stand. She brought up her lantern and was glad to see the space looked empty.

  Jendara set her back to the wall and waited for the others. “What happened?”

  “Deep ones,” Vorrin gasped. “Lots of them.”

  “They came out of nowhere,” Glayn added. “We were in the library after we left the ulat-kini camp.”

  “There was no one at camp,” Zuna added. “The boats were all gone or scuttled—”

  “One of the scuttled boats was a longship,” Glayn interrupted.

  “And we thought you were gone,” Zuna finished.

  Vorrin pulled Jendara close. “I’m so glad you’re all right,” he whispered.

  She let herself press her face against his shoulder for one weak moment. Then she pulled back to face them all. “The ulat-kini have Kran,” she said. “And most of the village of Sorind.”

  “What?” Vorrin stared at her. “How?”

  “They have creatures that can control your mind,” she explained. “You’re like a watcher trapped be
hind your own eyes as they puppet you around.”

  “But … why?” Glayn shook his head. “I don’t understand.”

  Jendara hesitated, trying to remember what Yerka had said and put it together with what they’d gleaned from the ulat-kini. “The people of Leng are fighting a war against the spiders,” she began, “but they want more power, and more of these mind slaves.”

  Vorrin looked thoughtful. “They want the sleeping god to help them fight the spiders.”

  “Right.” Jendara leaned back against the wall. She had caught just a glimpse of the slithering thing down in that pit, but it had been enough. Enough to know that whatever slept beneath this island was huge and horrible and evil enough to make the stars themselves scream in fear. “The god, the ulat-kini, the black robes—they’re all evil.”

  “But why did they want the Sorinders?” Zuna asked. “Are they just the newest bunch of slaves?”

  “They’re going to be sacrificed,” Jendara explained. “As a treat to make the god behave. Like taming a feral dog.”

  “Merciful Desna,” Boruc whispered.

  Vorrin rubbed a palm over his face. He took a deep breath. “All right. What do we do now?”

  Tam frowned. “You said there was a big group of deep ones behind you. So how come it’s so quiet?”

  Vorrin frowned. “Zuna caught sight of them first. I just assumed they were after us, but maybe we were wrong. Maybe they’re just on the move—or organizing an attack on … someone else?”

  Jendara began moving back toward the boulevard, Fylga at her heels. “But attacking who?”

  * * *

  Out in the boulevard, nothing moved. The sun had sunk too low to penetrate the skylights, and now shadows ruled the great hallway. Jendara crept out behind a heap of rubble. The soft rumble of voices came from behind the closed doors of the Star Chapel.

  She fixed her gaze on them. The ulat-kini and denizens of Leng were already inside, preparing for the night’s terrible ritual. Vorrin hunkered down beside her and gave her hand a quick, nervous squeeze.

  Jendara glanced around. The boulevard was empty, but it was easy to imagine deep ones and pink-tentacled moon-beasts in every shadow.