White-Lion kicked her legs in frustrated anger.
She smiled. That's it, she thought, get good and mad. "Who else am I gonna blame? It's no one's fault but yers!"
"Ooohhh! I can't believe I chose a poopy-skull like you to be my partner!"
"God, I can't believe I fell for a self-centered butthead such as you. I thought I had better sense!"
White-Lion screamed in rage as she twisted and bucked her body, but it soon turned into a guttural roar as light exploded from her eyes. It echoed through the jungle, scaring up flocks of birds and flushing animals out of hiding as they fled in terror.
Yes! Now we're getting somewhere. The only problem was, White-Lion's magical ability was erratic. Eile had no idea what would result. She could only hope it was something productive.
Read the rest of the story [https://www.goodreads.com/story/show/338142-the-peril-gem].
From "Gruff Tolls"
The three women paused as they topped the crest of the ridge. The other side of the pass ran down-slope to a narrow but deep cleft between the two mountain ranges. The sides of the ravine were sheer vertical rock walls some thirty feet apart, and even from where they stood they could hear the muted roar of the cataract deep inside the fissure.
Medb hErenn watched as Morgiana crouched and examined the vista with her experienced thief's eye.
"You were right," she remarked in a casual tone. She was addressing the Zoog Conaed, called Runt, who sat on one of the three pack yaks behind her. He was only about half the size of his race, but his verdigris-tinged bronze fur was darker and the tarnished silver facial stripes were bolder.
He declined to answer, but the former queen replied, "You should know by now he is very seldom wrong."
Morgiana gave the massive woman a look that mixed amusement and exasperation on her lovely Arabic face, then turned her attention back to the ravine while Medb followed her gaze. As Conaed had predicted, the gulf was spanned by a footbridge suspended from two pairs of rough-hewn stone spires, one on either side. The planks of the deck appeared to be made from ordinary wood, but the ropes that supported them did not look like hemp or metal wire or any other recognizable material. They almost seemed to resemble cobwebs.
Mephitis walked up to stand between them. Medb spared the apothecary a sidelong glance and saw her eye the bridge in a dubious manner. "Are you sure this is the only way through?"
"The Quarry of the Giants should be just a few miles west of here," Medb said. "From there the trail to Urg is clearly marked, with Inganok a day's march beyond."
Morgiana stood and gave her arms a languid stretch over her head. "We certainly cannot go back the way we came. The valleys are literally crawling with spiders. I wasn't aware they had penetrated this far."
"The spiders of Leng migrate out of their valleys every quarter-century," Conaed said. "The last such was a mere lustrum ago. In time they will starve as they consume all the available food, including each other, but for now they are a grave danger."
Mephitis threw him a sarcastic glance. "You have a talent for understatement, Master Zoog."
"We wouldn't be in this mess if you hadn't started this expedition," Morgiana said, though in a facetious manner rather than with reproach.
Mephitis made no reply, but she flashed an expression of remorse.
"It matters little." Medb had a slight smile on her lips. "We are both of us big girls--"
Morgiana laughed. "Speak for yourself, you voluptuary."
Medb raised on eyebrow at the thief's taunt, but made no remonstration. "My point is we made our own decision to accompany her."
Which was true. Mephitis had come to them a fortnight before, while they sat drinking in the Inn of the Quixotic Muse, and asked them to accompany her on a trip into the Northern Lands. She needed to collect several natural products from which she obtained the ingredients for a number of the medicines, potions, poisons, and other drugs she created, that could only be found in the mountains that formed the western border of the Plateau of Leng. Medb she needed as a bodyguard, pure and simple, but several of the plants, mosses, lichens, and fungi she sought grew on cliff faces and steep mountain sides inaccessible to all but a master thief. She offered each a handsome remuneration, as well as the opportunity to plunder the ruins that dotted the plateau and its barrier mountain chains, but she did tax Morgiana's talents and ingenuity to the utmost. Still, thanks largely to her expertise, they were able to collect large amounts of everything Mephitis needed, except spider venom.
"Of course, Your Majesty," Morgiana joked.
Medb formulated a retort, but forgot it when the bird Teehar'owan came flying up the slope towards the small group, his gaudy blue, green, red, and gold plumage unmistakable against the drab surroundings. He circled them a couple of times, then landed on the head of the lead yak, between the horns, flexing his crest and long tail.
"Mistress," he piped, "the bridge is guarded by a spider!"
All three women studied the structure. "I don't see anything," Mephitis said.
But Medb was able to look more closely. "Where is it?"
"In the shadow of the right-hand column."
She spotted it immediately. "Ach, yes. About the size of a bull, I would say." It looked like a normal orb-weaver spider, except for its size. Its abdomen was large and bulbous compared to its cephalothorax, and somewhat oblong, while its eight legs arched high over its body. A pair of pedipalps, almost like a fifth pair of legs, sprouted from either side of its "face". Its base color was a vivid hue of purple, but it appeared mottled by a bold lace-pattern of indigo that dyed its legs and bordered its lapis-lazuli eyes. There were four pairs of those, the front pair being the largest, with the other three arranged in a box-like pattern on its "head".
Morgiana shook her head. "I still don't see anything. I wish I had your hawk-eyes. So, a runt then." Her tone suggested disgust. The Zoog growled softly in reply, but the women ignored him. Medb knew it wasn't the creature's small size that disturbed the thief, but its implication. If anything, a runt was more dangerous than its larger colleagues, including the colossi that lived deep in the mountains and crevasses of the plateau.
"It's going to be fast and agile, perhaps even a jumper."
"And it will be smart," Mephitis added. Though all Leng spiders were intelligent, the runts were the most keen-witted of all. They had to be, to escape being eaten by their larger brethren. "It may even know magic."
Suddenly the significance of the bridge's rope construction material dawned on them all, but it was Morgiana who voiced their collective conclusion. She turned to confront Medb. "It built the bridge, from its webbing."
She nodded slowly, but with a sly smile. "And therein lays its greatest weakness."
"I don't understand," Mephitis said, also turning to face her.
Medb favored her companions with a wicked grin. "I have a plan. Attend, and offer your advice."
The spider peered around the rock pillar he clung to and focused his huge forward-staring eyes on the approaching traveler, while his other three pairs kept watch on his surroundings. He had seen the bird circling above earlier, which he guessed acted as a scout, so he had expected travelers to come his way. When he saw the three figures appear at the top of the ridge, he clicked the fangs of his chelicerae together in eager anticipation as he gently drummed the ground with his pedipalps. Despite his size, he was in fact an old spider, having survived three migrations, including the one he had participated in. Nor was he at all dissatisfied with his choice of where to settle down. There were few passes through the mountains that separated the plateau from the lands west of Urg and Inganok, and they were beset by brigands and monsters, as well as the occasional spider. By making his pass accessible to caravans and solitary merchants, and making it a safe passage by keeping it clear of marauders, he ensured that he would have access to a steady supply of prey without having to expose himself to danger by actively hunting. And as long as he facilitated commerce, he doubted the local inhabitants would try to kil
l him or drive him off.
Of course, if he ate everyone who tried to cross his bridge, it wouldn't have been long before no one would come at all. As such, the true genius of his conception, or so he thought, was not the bridge itself, but the tolls he charged. He would accept anything that he could either eat or barter with for food, and if a band had nothing to offer him, he would then be free to take one of its number. Lone travelers were almost certainly doomed if they did not have an acceptable payment, but he was willing to bargain, provided the traveler could offer a strong incentive.
He felt puzzled when only one of the three started down the slope towards him, but he mentally shrugged, consoling itself with the realization that he could collect more than one toll. So he watched him approach until he came within a spear's throw of the threshold. He then jumped off the column and emerged from its shadow to place himself on the path. The traveler hesitated when he saw him, but after a moment tugged on his yak in resignation and trudged on forward.
Read the rest of the story [https://www.goodreads.com/story/show/345275-gruff-tolls].
From "Rhapsody in Orange"
The sight of Differel looking up from her desk stopped them in their tracks. She sat hunched over, leaning on her arms braced against the desktop. For a moment she almost looked like a zombie. She was haggard and disheveled, with heavy bags under her
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