Book 3: Sound And Fury

  Chapter 35 Mellow Yellow

  From a thicket of scrubby pines on a steep, scree-covered hillside, two massive spiders looked down on a pleasant and permanent looking dwelling beside the road. The hominids were definitely sentient beings… Kylie was certain of that. Soft and squishy mammals of some kind, protected by clever carapace armor of their own artifice. The equine was definitely a magical familiar, bonded to one of the creatures through a local divinity.

  “I think they’re humans… Can’t really tell for certain. I’ve never seen one up close and they seem to be armored for battle.” She danced to her much larger companion, Thyla the tarantula rookie.

  “We can’t prey on them if they are sapients….!” The big gal stammered, faltering in her dance; stumbling over a combination of her backcountry accent and deep embarrassment at failing to suppress it.

  “Relax! This’ll be easy! You’ll pop out in a threat posture, while I lurk in the woods above them. They’ll flee right away, we’ll fail to hurt them and we didn’t disobey any orders…” Kylie soothed the big newbie. “We just come back all disappointed, saying stuff like: ‘Oh, shucks, good thing we are so lame at hunting, cause otherwise we’d all be up on some serious charges’… or something like that.”

  “You’re sure they’ll run away?” She mumbled, as she discreetly tucked away a small knot of web she’d lost control of, in her distress.

  “Positive. I told you, I’ve never seen a human up close; ‘cause they nope out right away whenever they see anything with more than four legs.” She chuckled in a quick tapdancing shuffle step. “They totally lose their shit, every time.”

  A few minutes later, Thyla leapt out onto the roadway a few dozen yards behind the party of hominids, her front pair of legs held aloft and her fangs on display, in a classic menacing spider stance…

  “They aren’t running, Kylie… You said they would run away!” Thyla boogied down desperately, as their well laid plan unravelled in an instant. The humanoids lined up to confront her, after falling into a tight formation that bristled with pointy things, very quickly…

  “They haven’t seen me yet, that’s all! Once they realize there’s two of us, they’ll flee for sure…”

  Kylie stalked the edge of the treeline, exposing herself only occasionally and always after a quick hop, to create the illusion that there were many more of her kind hidden in the sparse pines.

  Seconds after her first appearance, the leader barked a few commands in their strange, entirely vocal language. Most of the party turned to address her threat, while the leader and a red armored warrior advanced slowly on Thyla.

  Kylie had her own troubles, as three of the humanoids produced some kind of tubular weapon that almost silently flung tiny darts… The envenomed plumes were heralded by a soft, musical note as they puffed their weird ‘lungs’ to launch their weapons.

  She ducked and evaded, but in the trees, those fast flying darts were hard to escape. One after another, tiny feathered barbs rattled off her carapace segments, but they would get lucky, eventually. One of her legs was already going numb, suggesting that whatever venom they carried was potent…

  “Oh, Web Tangles!… They have envenomed darts…” Kylie gasped out through her harp, as a sudden, painful jolt stabbed into her abdomen.

  ‘Gotta put that in my research notes…’ She thought desperately, while her body became rigid, locked into the death-curl posture of her kind, by a fast spreading toxin.

  /

  Thyla darted from one copse of trees to another, fleeing desperately as those tiny darts flew at her from above. Only the thick hair coat and dense carapace plates the gods had gifted her with kept those awful stings from biting more often than they did.

  Two of her legs dragged behind her, useless and numb… Worse, she’d lost her harp, her voice in her flight! That was a shameful waste and an irreplaceable loss. She staggered back into her team’s temporary encampment above the rift, exhausted, wounded and terrified beyond the capacity for rational dance.

  “We were attacked… The humanoids are sentient and have gone hostile!” She gasped and stumbled on her numb legs.

  “Nonsense! The great lord Aclintherios has set this domain aside for our use! The visions I have seen prove it to be so!” The widow matron scoffed sharply. “You failed and were driven off by some primitive local life form… where is The scout?”

  “Hye too Kylie!” She stammered, tripping over her numb limbs in her haste.

  “Dance like you know the steps, hatchling! Your hinterland accent is already nearly impenetrable!” Lady Finli’tichintch scolded the giant hairy spider.

  “They took Kylie! I don’t know if she’s alive or not! They had some kind of venom throwing tubes! Look, stuck all over me! Weapons of sentient artifice!” She waved her backside and the small collection of colorful ornaments stuck in her long, spiky butt hairs and the few that had struck her joints and numbed her legs. “We must open a dialogue with them and recover lady Kylie!”

  “I am confident that no pack of primitive, hominid simpletons were able to subdue a veteran huntress jumper in this terrain. She will rejoin us before long. It is certain.”

  /

  “Be careful… secure each leg independently as well.” The leader urged his minions, commands barked in incomprehensible yips and grunts over the paralyzed spider. Kylie listened in, able to understand only a tiny fraction of their speech, as the humans swiftly and securely bound her legs, then they veiled her spinnerette and her fangs with tough, well woven spider silk… that was awkward indeed.

  She watched as they bustled about, working at their incomprehensible tasks with their odd tools and conversing with each other in a series of sounds that almost sounded like a proper, civilized language. It was all terribly fascinating!

  The beings assembled a conveyance machine of some kind from parts they produced from a nifty dimensional gift… The power that some of them wielded had to do with shadows, light and of all things… time. That was even more fascinating… She was shaken from her contemplations, when they carefully loaded her onto their conveyance and began trundling her inert form down a trail to their encampment, just off the road.

  /

  “She’s watching us… it’s pretty creepy…” Barry mumbled awkwardly as they walked. “I feel like we should be trying to communicate with her…”

  “You’re certain she’s smart, not just a giant bug?” Dannyl asked for the fifth time, still nervous about their prisoner.

  “Yes, uncle. She’s definitely smart. She was using a harp to communicate with her partner and she had a few other artifacts slung in a bag under her abdomen.” Barry explained gently. “We found another instrument in the woods, after the big one fled.”

  “A spider with a fanny pack… Hilarious.” Dannyl sighed at last. “All right… you can talk to her when the poison wears off. Tell Frankie and Maya to dart the shit out of her if she gets twitchy.”

  “Tarantula hawk-wasp venom doesn’t wear off, we have to give her the antidote. Using it on her again so soon would be dangerous, possibly fatal; that should be our last resort.” The lad reported dutifully.

  “You seem to be pretty concerned about the fate of the spider that attacked us.” Dannyl mumbled, peering at the lad from behind his inscrutable veil.

  “I’ve met some spiders…” The young warrior shrugged. “I’ve found them to be pretty reasonable, compared to most people… What I overheard of their conversation suggested they were hoping we’d run like hell and were at a loss when we didn’t.”

  “Then, no doubt they will approach us to seek their companion’s return, soon.” The older warrior replied firmly. “If she’s going to stay like that for a while, let’s let it ride that way. They make me nervous…”

  “You don’t say…” Barry sighed. “All right, but I really think I should just talk to her.”

  “Just like your dad, always trying to make friends…” Dannyl sighed. “You’d think he’d be better at it.”

  “Come on, uncle Dannyl… I understand. They can’t all be sweet and cute, like auntie Thirp.” The big lad patted his senior on the shoulder and led him inside the house.

  “They could at least try… at least a little.” The warrior sighed and gave up. “Contact your folks... maybe your spider uncle can come up here to negotiate…” He shook his head and moaned softly. “I haven’t felt this off balance since the first time I went adventuring with your dad. I’ll leave the prisoner to you, Barry. Just let me know before you let that thing start moving around again.”

  /

  “Explorer Kylie is tied up like prey, lady Finli’tichintch! Like prey! I think they intend to devour her!” Thyla scuttled in horror, appalled by the entire situation. “I found their encampment near the road thingie… Poor Kylie is just sitting there, trussed up inside their barrier of toxic thorny vegetation!”

  “I have sent a missive to the central committee, informing them of your claims of sentient hominids and requesting a search and recovery team for poor Kylie. We have done all we can to rescue her from her own incompetence, and your own…” The widow matron replied coldly.

  “This misadventure will reflect poorly on my expedition and thus on lord Aclintherios himself… Grace be upon his holy name.” She cocked her head at the young explorer and nodded.

  “Fortunately, we have been able to intercept their communications device. Though we were unable to decipher the message it contained…” She nodded to a web bundle containing the smashed remnants of a small, plump bird sculpted in clay.

  “Accept responsibility for this debacle with as much dignity as you can muster. If you are sufficiently humble, you may yet have a career in the Explorer’s guild… at some point in the future.”

  Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  “As you say, matron Finli’tichintch.” The big, hairy rookie turned and left, stepping very carefully indeed as she departed.

  /

  “Your friend has come back a few times, miss spider…” Lindsey mumbled to the paralyzed creature. “She’s worried about you, but won’t make contact with us. I think she’s afraid of us… which is pretty amazing.”

  “I don’t think she can understand our language.” Barry said with a sigh. “I sent my ocarina bird home to ask for help… I haven’t gotten an answer. That’s a little concerning too.”

  “Could it have been caught or destroyed?” She asked softly.

  “We’ve lost one here and there to predators and such, but they’re tough to actually destroy.” He shrugged and sighed. “Could be that they caught it, they are spiders after all… Catching flying things is kinda what they do.”

  “So now what? It’s been hours and her friend hasn’t approached us… Flash has smelled her a few times, skulking in the woods.” Lindsey mumbled, as she settled in beside Barry on a bench in the garden, where they could watch the prisoner.

  Not that there was much need, the tarantula hawk-wasp venom on Frankie’s darts was arachnid specific and super effective at halting voluntary movement, without killing the unfortunate victim. Harvesting the stuff was a challenge, since the gigantic, mindlessly predatory beasts were solitary, elusive and aggressive. The monstrous variants were damnably troublesome and provided copious quantities of venom, once brought down.

  The antidote was a collaborative effort by count Liam, Gary and the local sentient spider population, who found the wasps troubling in the extreme. Victims would be buried alive, to feed the wasp’s larvae, while remaining alert and conscious for entirely too much of the process.

  “Frankly, the wasps are pure nightmare fuel for the Arachneans, much as spiders are for most humans.” Barry explained, while his audience rapidly lost enthusiasm for the topic, starting shortly after he described the ‘paralyzed and buried alive’ part.

  “Thats… just super awful!” She groaned, when Bary finished his highly distressing lecture.

  “In any case, this has gone on too long.” He sighed, after a good long hug to ease Linsey’s heebie-jeebies. He tapped his ear cuff and murmured softly.

  “Uncle Dannyl, I’m gonna give her the antidote and try to talk to her…” He winced and dialed down the volume of his device. “Well, it’s been hours… I’m worried about her health, if we keep her like this too long.”

  After a few seconds of back and forth, the young Adventurer grinned at his partner. “He’s not happy, but that’s his trauma to work through.” Barry sighed, as he produced a small vial of some bright yellow liquid. “The venom works quickly, but the antidote takes some time. She should regain some mobility in an hour, though I expect she won’t be ready to talk until nightfall, or later.”

  “Do you have a lot of experience with… spiders?” Lindsey asked, while the lad carefully administered his drug to the immobile creature. He carefully misted the giant spider with the slightly acrid smelling solution, using a brass pump sprayer, coating her entirely.

  “My family has a close relationship with the local Arachnean tribes; since we’re blessed by lady Thirp, their patron goddess. It’s really weird and complicated, don’t ask.” He mumbled awkwardly, as he worked.

  “Well, now I have to ask!” She sniffed at her boy, delighting in his nervous twitches and the wild look in his eyes. “Tell me about it, we have time, while your new eight legged friend recovers.”

  “Oh, crap… You know how your horse thinks my dad is the cat-girl’s tits?” He asked, failing to notice the sharp look she shot at him, over his crude utterance.

  “The local spider folk are the same way… He’s been cursed by the entire divine realm for a while, and also blessed by a large number at the same time… which is pretty fucked up.” He smiled and shook his head. “Well, not Eponna’s, her curse was hilarious.”

  “Boys…!” She sighed fondly, while secretly remembering the troubles Flash had brought to Gary’s footwear.

  “Yeah, so Thirp, the Spinner in Darkness is really close with him… and the rest of us as well.” He mumbled. “Shit’s weird as can be around us… Sorry.”

  “Isn’t one of your uncles a god?” She asked wearily. “There’s so many it’s hard to keep track, but some of them stick out in my memory… Like the man who stepped out of the shadow of a tiny tree, then spread bat wings and flew away while I watched.”

  “Oh yeah, I keep forgetting you’ve met uncle Ward. He’s a lot, isn’t he?” Barry answered with a grin.

  /

  While the humans chattered on, Kylie struggled to glean any meaning from the interactions of the two beings. Their language was a mystery, as were their gestures and non verbal cues… there seemed to be some intimacy between them. Beyond that, who could say? The larger specimen produced a shiny tool of some kind and proceeded to spray her body with a foul smelling liquid that dried rapidly and stopped stinking just as quickly.

  The two humans appeared to be either two distinct subspecies or, dare she hope? A male and a female? She shuddered in her carapace, at the idea of observing a mated pair… Which would be even more intriguing.

  That shudder drew her attention again, as she realized her paralysis was fading. Slowly, as the minutes crawled by, she regained the tiniest bit of sensation and control of her body.

  /

  “Ah, she moved a little.” Barry murmured a while later, as Lindsey drifted on the edge of sleep, curled up against him on a garden bench. “I have to untie her now.” He slipped away, draping a blanket over the sleepy lass, who sat bolt upright in absolute terror a moment later, when his words seeped through the fog.

  “Untie?! No no! That’s a terrible idea!” She gasped, while Barry was already releasing the creature.

  “These cords couldn’t hold her anyway. We only tied her up so we wouldn’t damage her legs in transport.” He shrugged. “Spider silk is strong, but she’s a giant freaking spider.”

  “This feels incredibly dangerous.” Lindsey mumbled, as the arachnid began to uncurl from her death pose.

  “All the local spiders we’ve treated with the antidote were weak and sluggish for hours afterward. They all reported that their minds remained unclouded, so we should be perfectly safe…” He fell quiet, as she slowly rolled over and clambered shakily to her legs. “But I guess she’s pretty resilient…”

  He walked over to the wobbly behemoth and placed an object on the lawn in front of her. A strange harp or lyre of bones, hides and spider silk rested incongruously on the soft, green turf like a forgotten corpse.

  “I’m going to have a chat with her and it’s gonna get in the weeds, I think. I’ll give you a whole breakdown when we’re done; translating while having a conversation sucks. Sorry babe.”

  He pulled his favorite guitar from his strange storage gift and gave it a strum. “I’m afraid this won’t make much sense from your perspective… and you won’t need that.”

  Lindsey glanced around, wondering what he meant by that last wisecrack. It took her a few seconds to realize she was holding her new, no longer pink lance in her hand… Where it definitely hadn’t been before the spider started moving. “I didn’t bring this awful thing with me…” She mumbled, while still clinging to the weapon with a firm, fond grip.

  “Yeah, sorry about that. My dad forged another divine artifact… It’s becoming a real problem.” Barry sighed wearily, sounding like an old man.

  /

  “Gary, come upstairs… You’ve been down here for hours!” Becky shouted, dragging him out of the hyperfocused, nearly unthinking state he’d fallen into.

  “Hmm…?” The Fool asked through a huge yawn. “I must have zoned out down here…” He looked down at his workbench and sighed a long, gusty breath into the workshop’s suddenly still and quiet air.

  “Shai says you’d better wash up… and nothing eldritch or arcane upstairs. We have the count and countess coming over tonight.” Her dark eyes sparkled at that last, like a child anticipating Christmas morning.

  “Oh…! All my patience, suffering and hard work pays off… at last!” He sighed eagerly, while he stuffed unidentifiable ‘things’ into his Pockets! from his workbench.

  “I’d ask what that is… but I don’t wanna know.” The high priestess muttered at her mad brother from another world.

  “I am but a tool of the divine…” He intoned reverently, before letting out a wry and heretical chuckle. “When they can manage to finger puppet my butthole long enough to trick me into making stuff for them.”

  “Thats disgusting…! Why are you always so…? Never mind. Blasphemous and wicked to your core.” She sighed happily. “It’s good to see you being weird again, now it’s time for you to get out of this hole and do something in the fresh air.”

  “My transgressive behaviors and inappropriate outbursts caused chaos, concern and trouble in my old world too. I’m just awful at being compliant.” He purred warmly, as he finished tidying up with a dismissive wave of his hand.

  “I’ll be just a few minutes, kiddo. I’ve got… ivory dust in my hair and there’s a splinter of trans-dimensional conch shell jabbed under my fingernail.”

  “What the hell were you making, doofus?” Becky demanded, not really expecting an answer as he headed off for the baths.

  “Trouble.” He replied, as he disappeared into the bathing room.

  /

  Captain Skander, of the light’s templars, was way beyond any simple crisis of faith. He looked over his comrades, his subordinates, men who trusted his leadership, even though he had not a clue what was coming next… He’d been brought up in the temple knights, squired to the order by his parents at six; in lieu of two years' past due tithes.

  Like most of the templars, he was a third or fourth son of the noble houses, stripped of his name and title and sent to train, toil and make war at the command of the light.

  Now, his men looked to him for guidance, while he had precious little to give. That they were still alive, unmolested and being fed was beyond any expectations he, or any of the men held… Which was almost more disconcerting.

  All those thoughts and a messy tumble of stray impulses, crack-brained ideas and half cogent hopes swirled madly in his skull, as he marked forward to meet his fate.

  “Templar captain Skander, step forward! Your presence is commanded by the count!”

  “I’m captain Skander…” He announced to the large, yellow armored warrior at the gate to their ‘compound’ as the afternoon turned golden and the heat of the day eased. It was a slave pen, save for the addition of simple tents and humble bedding… They had actual latrines, received prompt medical care and were even taken to the public baths in small groups on a strictly maintained rotation.

  All in all, it was shaping up to be the least grueling captivity he could imagine…

  If only there were not literally scores of that same deranged witch… or men so alike as to be the same man, everywhere. They roamed around on their mysterious errands, as if their bizarre existence were anything wholesome or sane.

  “Come with me, Skander.” The man said. He had that same voice, the witch’s own voice, coming from inside that faceless yellow helmet. With that, he turned his back and began walking, assuming he would be obeyed… Skander wondered for a moment, why his traitorous feet had responded to the man’s command instantly.

  “I came to get you personally, because my kids don’t need to be exposed to your filthy cult any further…” He said, without turning to look at the templar, or slowing his brisk pace.

  “In my darker moments, I wonder why I didn’t slaughter your wretched legion and all you templar knights out of hand.”

  “It’s you… the witch from that sky display…” Skander mumbled softly as he stumbled over his own feet.

  “You guessed it right away, even with my clever costume change?” The lunatic asked cheerily, sounding amused. “I’m a terrible actor… I’m also unwilling to put up with any bullshit from you assholes, so tread carefully. Only my lord, count Kinnis stands between your cohort and my tender mercies.”

  “Oh, he’s in a scary mood!” The awful armored wasp monster chirped and buzzed, as she slipped out of her master’s collar, to hover behind him as they walked, addressing the battered, ragged, humiliated knight. “Don’t worry, I won’t let him kill you… I’ll make you one of my slaves first. He’s not allowed to kill my slaves!”

  “Do you have sugar wasps on your world?” The witch asked, conversationally, as if there were not a dangerous monster buzzing a few inches away from both of them.

  “Yes, though only in the deep wilds…” The knight mumbled, sounding sullen.

  “So you know what happens to those who get stung?” The witch asked sweetly.

  “Victims of the sugar wasp spend their lives in constant toil, enslaved to the monsters by their addictive sting.” He replied, while keeping a close eye on the insect monster.

  “A strong willed, determined sentient can resist the sweet call of the wasp venom and win freedom… but almost none do.” Kree informed the shaken knight.

  “Well, not my venom… I’m a daughter of the sugar wasp empress. The sting of a true royal wasp is of a far greater purity, even spirits, the dead and the undying cannot resist my venom and Will.” She sighed and landed on her master’s shoulder, sitting so she faced sir Skander. “Your pontiff demon would have been a marvelous slave, but my servant destroyed her entirely, while I was distracted.”

  “SugarBee… There’s no chance I’m letting you enslave a demon! That’s an incredibly dangerous idea.” The witch scolded his familiar gently, fondly, even. “She has a vengeful streak…” The witch murmured, as he scritched his awful pet between her wings with an armored pinkie finger.

  “You got hauled away from our last meeting, so let me spill the tea, just a little. The count gave me the cohort of lords and the slave overseers to ‘dispose of’ as I wish…” The armored man slowed a little, as they approached the main building.

  “I’m disposing of them by letting my little Kree enslave them, once I have a chat with each.” He chuckled at some fond memories and sighed with pleasure.

  “So far a dozen of your lords and clerics have become her pets. Each has been given an opportunity, and each has failed to impress upon me that they are worthy of compassion. I wonder how you would fare… in my exit interview.”

  “You gave them to… monsters?” Skander gasped, horrified at the idea.

  “No, I gave them to Kree, who is a spirit being of immense power. She sold them off to the local wasp queens for…” He turned to his tiny pet and cooed. “What did you get for cardinal Sourport, sweetie?”

  “Oh, it was a good deal! I got three pots of honey and a crock of royal jelly! So tasty… and for a useless slave like that old gasbag too!” She purred and nuzzled her master, then giggled with delight. “He is useful now! He gardens and grooms for hive queen Dirizziniz’s until his death!”

  “That was a good deal… Though, executing him would have been so satisfying.” The witch mumbled.

  “He’s getting a little murdery…” The insect sighed, as she drew her tiny golden dagger. With a careless flick of her wrist, the tiny, barbed blade sank into the man’s neck, through the mail of his chain coif.

  “Hey! You stung me! No fair!” He complained, his voice already sounding warmer and slower.

  “Just a little. Your wife will be mad if I let you kill any of these dirtbags. She’ll yell at me and hide the candy jar again, like when you cursed that slaver to haunt a toilet!” The wasp complained right back.

  “I’m sorry, HoneyBug… You’re right, I was about to slaughter him.” The witch sighed, as they entered the strange inn through a basement door and down two flights of steps, into an almost featureless room.

  /