The Final Storm (28 page)

Robby stood among the tall trees and looked this way and that, frantically searching for movement—some sign of where they had gone. “Arrggh!” Robby yelled. He’d failed Trenna, dooming her to die agonizingly in the darkness of a spider’s lair.

“Never alone.”

“What?” Robby asked.

“You are never alone.”

“King Eliam, help me,” he whispered desperately.

An odd sense of calm descended upon Robby. He looked down at his feet, and his heart began to beat faster. There was a strand of web.
If I follow it . . .
Robby suddenly realized what he needed to do. “Thank you!” he uttered, and raced off.

Heedless of the briers and scratching limbs, Robby followed the thread through the forest as quickly as he could. He did not want to trip the wire until he was ready. At last, he found where the web disappeared under a thin ridge of earth. As Robby looked more closely, he recognized the outline of a wide circular trapdoor.

“This is gonna be close!” Robby said. He stood clear of the trapdoor and found a heavy dead limb. He tossed the limb in a high arc onto the web and waited with his broadsword. Quickly, the trapdoor launched upward. A hideous mass of black eyes, long segmented limbs, and dark brown leaped up from the hole. Robby swung his broadsword as hard as he could and felt it strike something solid. But it gave with a nauseating splatter and came through. Robby looked up and saw the gigantic spider drag its ruined body into the trees and then become still.

His plan had worked—he’d drawn out and killed the spider that had taken Trenna. Now all he had to do was get her out of the spider’s lair. He just hoped that Thrivenbard was right about the spiders taking their prey alive.

Robby went to work on the trapdoor, chopping and hacking with zeal. It was stronger than it had appeared, made of many alternating layers of spider silk, soil, and bracken. At last a vast dark hole gaped open in front of him. Robby stepped to the edge and peered warily inside. He saw a deep sloping tunnel lined with gray web.

“Trenna!” he called down into the hole. “Trenna, answer me!” There was no response at first, but Robby heard a strange clicking sound followed by a swish and a dull thud.

“Trenna, are you there?!” he called again.

At last there came a muffled cry. “Trenna!” Robby cried out. He took a deep breath and leaped down into the tunnel. It was farther down than he thought, and he landed awkwardly, the unfamiliar weight of his armor throwing him forward. He drew himself up and realized just how large the tunnel was. Ten feet high and at least that wide. Robby thought about the spider that he had killed a few moments earlier. It didn’t seem quite that large. Robby strained to look down the tunnel, but the light from the hole above traveled down the tunnel only a few yards. From that point on it was pitchdark.

“Trenna?” he called down the tunnel. There was no answer. Robby held his broadsword out in front and began to advance slowly. The web felt spongy under his feet, and the air was chilly and uncomfortable.

Robby walked down the left side of the tunnel so that he could let his left hand trail across the wall. Every few steps, he would stop and listen. Several times, he heard the same
click—swish—thud
noise again. It was an eerie, almost rhythmic sound, and Robby began to wonder if the spider he had killed was the only spider that lived in this burrow.

Suddenly, the wall on his left ended and he was reaching into darkness. “Trenna?!” No answer. No sound. It was as if his words had been swallowed up as soon as he spoke them. He reached out in all directions with his broadsword and found that the tunnel apparently opened up into a wide space or a chamber. Robby could see nothing, but he had the dreadful feeling that he was being watched.

I hope you’re with me, King Eliam,
Robby thought as he slowly moved forward.
Never alone, right?
Somewhere to his distant left, there came the
click—swish—thud
sound. Robby stared, but saw nothing. Then, the same sound, but to the right and not quite as far away. And this time, light glimmered briefly in some corner of the chamber.

What is that?
Robby wondered, and then he realized what it must be.
Trapdoors. More trapdoors—but then that would mean this is not the burrow of one single spider, but the den of many!

His heart hammering and sweat pouring down his back, he forced himself to move forward. A few more steps, and Robby had the distinct feeling that there was something in front of him. He pointed the broadsword forward, squeezing the haft in a death grip. He lunged forward just to test and heard an ominous scuttling. It sounded like the crunching of broken glass on pavement.

Robby stopped and stood very still. He stared straight ahead. His mind whirled with a million thoughts—chief among them was that coming into this burrow was quite possibly the dumbest thing he’d ever done in his life.

“Not dumb. Valiant.”

Robby smiled tentatively.
Okay, but I don’t feel very brave.

Suddenly, he heard the
click—swish—thud
sound. It came from far behind him, and there had been the briefest flash of light. It was enough at least to see what stood there in front of him—and to temporarily blind him. He’d seen long segmented legs, a pair of large sickle-shaped fangs, and eight black eyes. This spider was much larger than the other he’d seen earlier.

Robby carved the air in front of him. “Get back!” he yelled. He heard the creepy scuttling sound. Then,
click—swish—thud,
and the light flashed again. The spider had reared up. Its forelegs were high in the air and menacing, its sharp fangs and opening jaws fully visible—if but for a moment.

Robby backpedaled, keeping the sword moving. The light flashed again just as the spider pounced. He saw it coming at him in that momentary illumination. Screaming, he slammed the sword from low to high. He struck something so hard, it sent a tremor up his arms. There came an earsplitting chirping screech. And then something took hold of the end of his sword.

Click—swish—thud!
The light flashed again. The beastly spider had his sword somehow clenched in its mandibles. All went black again, and Robby wrenched his blade with all his might. But the spider wrenched back. It lurched quickly to the side, and Robby stumbled heavily to his knees. It heaved back the other way, jerking Robby off his feet entirely. He crashed to the ground and yelled. The pain was intense. It was all he could do to hold on to the sword, but he did. He knew to let go would mean the end.

Somehow he got back on his feet. Robby gave one more weak pull and was about to give up, when he had a desperate idea. With renewed strength, he planted his feet and yanked back on the sword. He strained so hard he felt the muscles of his arms and upper back begin to pull. As Robby expected, the spider pulled back on the sword, trying to rip it from Robby’s grasp. Robby put all of his body weight behind a fearsome thrust and drove the broadsword into the spider’s jaws and up to the hilt into the creature’s ghastly throat. The spider died in an instant, its legs spasming, curling, and becoming still.

Robby glanced to the right at the source of the light. One of the trapdoors had been flung open. Robby turned back, and in the shadowy light, he could finally see just how monstrously huge the spider was. Maybe it was a trick of the dim light, but something seemed to be moving on the spider’s abdomen.

“Sir Robby?!” a voice called. He thought it was Sir Rogan, but Robby did not answer. He stared at the now undulating abdomen of the spider.

“Sir Robby!” another voice called.

“I’m down here!” Robby called. He recognized Sir Oswyn’s voice, but his eyes were still fixed on the creature. There was something there. No, several things. Then one came out of the shadows and Robby understood. It was another spider—a baby—and yet still as large as a great cat and menacing. Another spider came into view. Then two more. A dozen or more crept up from the big spider’s abdomen.

Robby twisted his sword free at last from the dead spider’s jaws and began to back up. “Sir Rogan!” he cried, the warning evident in his tone. “Sir Oswyn, get down here!”

There seemed to be no end to the baby spiders, and they scuttled over the body and closed in on Robby.

A torch in hand, Oswyn and then Sir Rogan leaped into the spider’s den, and what they saw took their breath away. A gigantic spider lay dead in the center of the underground chamber, but dozens more had Robby cornered at a distant wall.

Then all at once, the spiders attacked. One leaped at Robby, but with a swipe of the broadsword, Robby cut it in half. Some pounced from the wall or leaped from the ceiling. Robby was covered with clawing, biting spiders. Each time he batted some off, others quickly replaced them.

Sir Rogan swung his battleaxe like a clock’s pendulum, dividing and dismembering spiders. Oswyn joined the fray, his narrow blade carving easily through the teeming spiders. Black blood splattered everywhere.

Finally, they reached Robby, knocking the last spiders off of him as he collapsed in their arms.

“He has been bitten,” Sir Oswyn said gravely.

Sir Rogan, with great effort, fended off the remaining baby spiders. “Will he live?!” he called back.

“I cannot say!” Oswyn yelled. “I think so, but we have to get him out of here!”

Then
CLICK—SWISH—THUD!
A flash of light brightened the chamber. Then another, and another. Sir Rogan turned and saw trapdoor after trapdoor open and large spiders coming into the den. “We are caught!” Sir Rogan exclaimed.

“No, not yet!” yelled Sir Oswyn. “A trapdoor, there!” He pointed over Sir Rogan’s shoulder, and indeed there was a faint outline of light.

“Trenna!” Robby whispered urgently. He struggled in Sir Oswyn’s grasp, attempting to stand.

“What?” asked Sir Oswyn. “Sir Robby, do not exert yourself !”

“No, I . . . I can stand!” yelled Robby. And to their amazement, he planted his feet and pushed himself up with his sword. “Trenna’s still down here . . . somewhere! I couldn’t find her.”

Sir Rogan turned, swept out his great axe, and cut the legs out from under an approaching spider. “We cannot wait!” he bellowed. “The spiders will overrun us!”

“We can’t just leave her!” Robby argued. He brandished his broadsword.

“Very well,” Sir Oswyn reluctantly conceded. He reached into a pouch on his belt and withdrew two tiny leaves. They were dark green with red fringes. “Eat these,” he said to Robby. “A crude remedy, but they will help your body fight the venom!”

Robby put both leaves in his mouth and chewed. His tongue began to sting as if he’d eaten a hot pepper, but his mind and vision seemed to clear almost instantly.

Then Sir Rogan turned to Sir Oswyn. “Do you have any of that powder you put to such use in the Blue Mountains?”

“I have enough!” Sir Oswyn said. “That is, if I guess your plan Sir Rogan.” He slid two long tubes from the belt at his side and handed them to Sir Rogan. “But you realize the web lining of this den—of all the tunnels . . .”

“I know,” Sir Rogan said. “That is what I am counting on. We may not have another opportunity to rid the forest of so many of them as this. Oswyn, we will find her if we can. But ten minutes only. If we do not emerge, torch this place!”

Sir Oswyn nodded. “Never alone!” he yelled, and then he clambered up through the trapdoor and out into the forest light.

Sir Rogan batted away a spider and Robby ran it through with his sword. They looked up and saw many more approaching rapidly. “We will split up,” Sir Rogan said. “We can cover more ground that way, and the spiders will divide their number to chase us.”

Robby nodded.

Sir Rogan handed Robby one of the tubes. “Uncork this, and pour out the powder as you search. This web should burn on its own, but if not, this powder will do the trick!”

Robby uncorked the tube and let a bit of the fine white powder spill out onto the floor of the den.

“We have ten minutes to find Trenna,” Sir Rogan yelled. “Ten minutes! Whether you find her or not, get out of the tunnels and back to the forest before that time is up!”

He looked up at Sir Rogan and nodded. The two of them sprinted off in opposite directions.

The spiders were on them almost immediately. Robby slashed a small spider out of his path with one hand. But a much larger creature loomed before him. Robby drove his sword into the monster’s cluster of eyes. It shrieked and flopped about hysterically. Robby started to run away but stumbled. He felt suddenly very light-headed. He swayed for a moment, then righted himself. He knew the spider venom was working on his system, but he would not let himself succumb.

He grabbed up the tube of fire powder and ran to another part of the underground chamber. He had no idea how much time had passed, but he hadn’t found Trenna, so it didn’t matter.

The tube of fire powder was empty, so Robby cast it aside and continued his search. After several dead ends and finishing off a handful of spiders, Robby ran down a long tunnel and came upon a trio of spiders at the tunnel’s end. Then he heard a voice and his heart soared.

“Get away from me, insects!” Trenna yelled. Her curved blade whistled through the air, and she hacked a foreleg off of one of the spiders.

“Trenna!” Robby yelled.

She looked up and saw Robby. “Sir Robby!” she exclaimed.

Robby went after the spiders with renewed vigor. He attacked one of them from behind. Before it could turn to face the new threat, Robby carved a mortal gash in its abdomen. Another, the largest of the three, was more clever. It sprang at Robby, knocking him off his feet. The creature scrabbled on top of Robby and sliced open Robby’s forehead with one of its claws. Robby yelled, but the spider was too close for him to swing his broadsword. So he kicked out with both of his legs, launching the spider into the air. Robby rolled and wheeled his broadsword around as the spider charged.

The spider reared and pounced, but Robby was too fast this time. He hacked off the creature’s fangs in one sweep of the sword. Then he leaped to the side and hacked at the spider’s exposed midsection.

Robby turned to Trenna, who had finished off the last spider. “Took you long enough!” she yelled, but she was not angry.