Adventurer's Honeymoon

by Kevin L. O'Brien

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 kill 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.

  From "The Peril Gem"

  Eile Chica looked down past her feet at the pit of lava. It was maybe ten yards beneath them, but she knew they'd get a lot closer real soon. Looking up, she examined her restraints. Her wrists had been well lashed with a thick cord made of fibrous vines, and slipped over a hook that hung from a rope. The rope had been thrown over a cross-pole high above them, from which she and White-Lion dangled. She couldn't twist her body around far enough to see, but she heard the creak of the winch as it was turned, lowering them towards the lava at a tedious pace. She looked out in front of her. The tribe had gathered around the lip of the pit, and they danced, screamed, and gesticulated in a wild orgy of religious ecstasy, as others stood off behind the crowd pounding on hollow log drums.

  "Uhh, Braveheart, I think we're in trouble."

  Irritated by the inane comment, she scowled and gave White-Lion a dirty look. "Brilliant deduction, Sherlock," she growled in a sarcastic tone.

  White-Lion jerked her head around, her eyes and mouth opened in large startled O's. "Oh, my! What brought that on?"

  "Whaddya think, ya ditz?"

  "You sound upset."

  "Now, what makes you think that? A bunch of murderous savages want ta immolate us as a sacrifice to their god in punishment for trying ta steal their sacred jewel. Why the hell would I be upset?! Gaaah, sometimes you can be such a space-case!"

  "Well, getting mad at me won't help."

  White-Lion's words triggered an idea for how to escape. She realized it was a long shot, but she didn't see that they had any choice.

  "Geeze, get a c
lue, will ya? We wouldn't be in this mess if it wasn't for you and yer hair-brained schemes."

  "Hey! You can't blame this on me."

  "Oh, yeah? Whose idea was it ta steal the Eye of the Devourer?"

  "Well, it certainly wasn't my idea to sneak through the village at night."

  "Yer the one who set off the alarm!"

  "Only because you were about to step on that sleeping guard!"

  "Ya didn't have ta yell!"

  "How else was I supposed to get your attention? You were too far away to hear me whisper."

  "You were supposed ta be right behind me."

  "You were moving too fast!"

  "I was tryin' ta get through the village before we were discovered, ya bimbo! Why couldn't you keep up?"

  "I was trying to be stealthy!"

  "Dammit! I thought we agreed ta move fast!"

  "I didn't agree to anything, you decided for both of us!"

  "I thought it was the best thing ta do!"

  "I'm the senior partner, I'm the one who's supposed to make the decisions!"

  "Hah! You couldn't decide what shoes ta wear this morning, you idiot!"

  "I'm the idiot? You're the one who thought we could scare the natives with a simple trick!"

  "How was I ta know they'd seen matches before?!"

  By that time they were within ten feet of the lava. Eile could smell the foul gases and feel the heat rising up from the surface.

  "I knew yer obsession with adventure would get us killed some day, but I never thought we'd go out like this."

  "Son of a--stop blaming me!" 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 "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 bloodshot eyes, her stringy, lifeless hair ragged and unkempt as if she hadn't showered for several days. It wasn't simply a matter of letting herself go; they had seen that before. It seemed indicative of a failure of will, as if she didn't care anymore. Eile glanced at Sunny, and from the look on her face she could tell she understood just how bad a shape Differel was in.

  The aristocrat leaned back in her high-backed chair and rested her head against the padded leather. "What are you two doing here?" She looked and sounded weary, as if she had very little energy left.

  "We haven't seen much of you lately, except in the Dreamlands," Sunny said as she closed the door, trying to sound airy, "so we just decided to drop by."

  Eile decided to go along with her. "Yeah, Dracula was kind enough ta give us a lift."

  She closed her eyes, as if the effort to get irritated was too much for her. "You two never were good liars. Aelfraed sent for you."

  "Aw, cripes. Yeah, yer right, but he's worried about you. They all are, and now that we've seen you, so are we. Geezus, Diff, what's happened?"

  She opened her eyes a crack. "That's none of your business."

  Eile could feel herself getting angry, but she reflected that if she could a rise out of the blue-blood, that might snap her out of her malaise. "Like hell it is. We wanna help you."

  Differel leaned forward and removed a cigarillo from the desk's humidor. Eile knew she used smoking as a defense mechanism, so the fact that she was getting one seemed a good sign. But she didn't like the way her hands shook as she lit it with her father's lighter.

  "Everyone's been trying to help me." She stood in a slow, cautious manner. It was almost painful to watch.

  "I don't need help." She walked around the chair towards the back windows, pausing for a moment to steady herself. "I need understanding and acceptance," she concluded before continuing on.

  Sunny walked around the desk to be with her, and Eile followed. "That's what Eile meant," she said in a soothing tone.

  She turned to face them, her visage grim as death. "No, you're like the others. You won't believe me either. You'll just laugh, or feign sympathy as you plot to have me committed."

  Eile finally lost her temper. "Dammit, Differel, do we hafta spell it out, again?! We're yer friends! We're not gonna laugh at you, or question yer sanity; we will try ta help you anyway we can. But you hafta level with us. Now, come on, what's wrong?"

  She gave them a desperate look, as if she really wanted to believe them. "I...don't know--"

  A lilting, child-like voice wafted through the air. "Aw, go on, tell them." It was followed by a giggle.

  Sunny whipped her head around trying to locate the source of the voice, but Eile was more disturbed by Differel's reaction. She went rigid, as if having a seizure, and bit off the end of her cigarillo, which dropped on the marble floor in a small shower of sparks. She squeezed her eyes shut with a grimace and jammed her fists into each temple.

  "Who said that?"

  Differel snapped to attention and stared at Sunny in utter disbelief. "You...you heard that?!"

  "Wellllll, yeah, naturally," Sunny said, her eyes wide with wonder. "Who is she?"

  Differel charged straight at her and grabbed her by both arms. "You really heard her?!" She shook Sunny hard enough to whip her hair around her head.

  "Cut it out!" Eile said. "Let her go, we both heard it!"

  Differel threw Sunny at Eile and backed away from them. "How do I know you're not lying? How...how do I know you're even real!? Maybe you're just more hallucinations! Merciful God in Heaven, I may actually be going mad!! I can't live like this! Dear God, please, make it stop; make it stop--"

  Eile strode up to Differel and slapped her across the face so hard she turned her head and knocked off her glasses. The blue-blood glared a look of outrage and slugged her in the mouth. Eile flew back and Sunny caught her before she fell.

  "What the bloody hell did you do that for?!?"

  "You were wiggin' out!" Eile replied as Sunny put her on her feet. "I couldn't think of anything else ta do."

  Differel made an effort to calm herself, but still stared daggers at her. "Hmph. Well, it worked, but never do that again."

  Eile tested her jaw. "Don't worry, you've gotta a right cross that can fell an ox, lady. So what's going on anyways?"

  Differel took a moment to retrieve her glasses and head back to her desk. "It started a fortnight ago. I heard the voice for the first time as I was falling asleep. I awoke, but no one was in my room, and I assumed it was just a dream. But I heard it again, louder and clearer, the next night, and then the next night, and the night after that."

  She paused to select another cigarillo and light it; Eile noted her hands still shook. "It kept talking to me, night after night, incessant, more frequent and longer each time, until I could barely sleep. Meanwhile I started hearing it during the day. It would break in while I was on the phone, in a meeting, receiving a report; then when I was reading or exercising, or just trying to relax. I never know when I'll hear it, or for how long." She put her hands over her ears as if trying to deaden some cacophony. "And I cannot block it out; no matter what I try, it breaks through my thoughts and hammers at my brain like a pile driver."

  She dropped her hands and turned
to look at them. "That's when I told the others. I hoped Vlad had been aware of it and would vouch for me, but he denied knowing anything. They tried to be sympathetic, but they were convinced I was merely suffering from stress."

  She took a deep, rattling breath. "I almost believed them, but then I started seeing her! At first it was in my dreams, then I would catch glimpses of her in halls and rooms, just flashes out of the corners of my eyes. But then she started leering around corners and through windows, popping out from behind furniture, standing just inside when I opened doors--Vlad never saw a thing!"

  She took another rattled breath. "By then I was deteriorating rapidly and I was sure they would pack me away to a sanitarium any moment. I was becoming paranoid; thank God you two are here now, because I doubt I would have lasted another day."

  "What does she look like?" Sunny asked.

  Differel gave her a sharp look. "What?"

  "The girl you've been seeing; what does she look like?"

  "Like me," the voice said. Eile turned with the others and saw a girl fade in from nothing as she pirouetted across the room towards the desk. But Eile realized she wasn't a girl at all. She looked like a late-twentysomething woman who dressed and acted like a child. She was short and petite, which added to the illusion, but there was a maturity of face and figure that belied her playacting. She was dressed in what looked like a Sailor Moon senshi uniform like some kind of cosplayer, except over it she wore an open cape-like coat. She also looked fairly normal, except for the baroque style of the clothes and ornaments, and the fact that everything about her was in various shades of orange: costume, hair, eyes, lips, cosmetics, fingernails; even her skin had an orange tinge to it instead of pink.

  As she approached, she giggled, warbled, and bubbled laughter, until she came to a stop just in front of the desk and faced them, a huge grin on her face. She jammed the index fingers of both hands into her cheeks and cried, "Ain't I cute?!"

  She acted and sounded like a lunatic, which, Eile realized with shock, was exactly what she was.

  From "The Denver Walker"

  Seven F-15E Strike Eagles flew in a diamond wedge formation over eastern Colorado. They had departed Buckley Airforce Base in Aurora where they were temporarily stationed. They were headed due east towards the Kansas border, and their intended target. Each was armed with eight AIM-120 AMRAAM medium range air-to-air missiles, modified to deliver fragmentation warheads, and an AIM-54 Phoenix long range air-to-air missile, as well as their standard 20 mm M61A1 gatling guns.

  Approximately fifteen minutes behind them followed a single A-6E Intruder attack aircraft. It carried a single BGM-109 Tomahawk Land Attack Missile under its fuselage with a special warhead. The pilot was Lt. Col. Eile Chica. Her squadron, which included the Eagles, had been transferred from California a week before just