Venom and Song (17 page)

“WAAAAaaaaaaaa!” And Tommy was gone.

Jimmy went next. Then Kiri Lee, Johnny, and Autumn.

“C'mon, Kat!” said Jett. “Ladies first.”

“No, you go. If there are any Gwar down there, beat them up for me!”

Jett laughed. “You got it.” He secured his hook to the line and teetered a minute on the edge, staring hard at the tree trunk behind them.

“What?” Kat asked, but the sudden clamor made any answer impossible.

SCREEE!

Three larger Warspiders, four to six feet in diameter, came around the bend. Mr. Wallace killed two, but the other got by him and lunged forward.

Kat slashed it with her short sword, but it leaped . . . right onto Jett. Grappling with the spider, its massive curling fangs inches from his face, Jett fell backward off the flet. His harness cinched tightly around him as he and the spider were whisked away.

“JETT!” Kat screamed, but there was nothing she could do.

“AAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaa—Mmph!”
A fat paw of foliage smacked Tommy across the face, filling his open mouth with bitter-tasting leaves. He spat them out, shut his mouth tight, and strained against the wind in his eyes to see Goldarrow racing ahead. Full branches
whoosh
ed by above and below. Forest sounds—frogs, insects, birds, wind—all melded together in an undulating rush of sound. There was a curious high ringing, too. Tommy realized the creepy tone came from the friction of the hook on the chute line as he blasted through the treetops. It was like being shot through a green tunnel, and Tommy constantly ducked or raised his feet, trying to avoid another blow.

There she is!
He saw her, just a shadow among shadows up ahead. His eyes were watering profusely. He tried to call out to her, but it felt like a powerful, invisible hand had grabbed his words and thrown them hundreds of miles behind him.
What is she doing?
Blinking constantly, he watched the Sentinel start to swing out sideways.
Oh no
.

Piercing the green in the distance, great gray fangs of stone rose up among the trees on either side. Some were fat and mountainous with gaping caves and ruinous jagged ridges. Others were narrower like monstrous stalagmites. It occurred to Tommy that they looked like the jaws of some colossal undersea beast . . . and he was heading straight for them.

Mr. Wallace joined Kat at the edge of the flet. “The spider went with Jett!” she cried out. “Do something.”

“I cannot. I have no bow,” he replied.

SCREEE!

More spiders were coming. A lot more.

Kat raced to the chute line and clicked the latch. “Get your line, Mr. Wallace, hurry!”

Mr. Wallace ran to the chest, looked into it, and then stood up. “It's empty,” he said. “Go on without me.”

“No . . . I can't leave you,” she said, pulling at the leather straps.

“You must,” he replied, trying desperately not to think of what he had in mind—lest she read his mind.

“No,” said Kat. “I won't. This harness, it's made of leather . . . or something. It's very strong. It can hold us both.”

SCREEE!

“Come on!” she demanded, working at the harness.

There came the sounds of spiders again, closer now, and then the voice of one very angry Elven commander. “LORDS, GET THEE GONE!” Grimwarden shouted.

Mr. Wallace and Kat had tried several methods to get into the harness but found the only way was for them both to put their legs through the straps. But they immediately realized that their upper bodies had no support from the harness. They'd have to cling to the strap that descended from the attached hook.

“Ready?” Mr. Wallace asked.

Kat nodded. She glanced back over her shoulder at the Sentinel. He smiled back, and they stepped off the platform.

Screee!
All fangs and mandibles, the Warspider gnashed at Jett and, with all eight legs, clung to his body with astounding strength.

“Get off me!” Jett yelled. “You nasty . . .
uhg
. . . thing!” He used his powerful upper body and arm strength to push against the critical joints of the spider's midsection, all the while kicking at the creature's segmented legs, but it would not let go. Tangled with each other and swaying violently, they sped down the chute line. The pair crashed through tree limbs, the wood slapping their bodies with enough force to break an average man's back.

“Ah! Grrr . . . ah!”
Jett grunted. The Warspider still would not let go. He tried a different tactic: pushing with both his legs at the spider's underside, but that met with far worse results. The creature raised its abdomen and its twitching spinnerets and sprayed tendrils of gray web on Jett's legs. He soon found his legs webbed together as if bound with steel cords.

Wriggling and twisting at the waist, Jett could only use his abdominal muscles to distance himself from the underside of the spider. All at once, the creature began contracting its legs. Jett felt himself being pressed inexorably toward the spider's gaping jaws. If it pierced him with those fangs . . . He had to kill the spider. He had to do it now.

Flexing his triceps and chest muscles, Jett pressed the creature just far enough away. With reflexes faster than man or Elf, Jett released the spider's torso and grabbed its fangs, one in each hand.
Screee!
The beast's eight legs crushed Jett up against it, but Jett did not let go of the fangs. Instead, he began to pull them outward.

The spider shrieked and fought, slamming its forelegs against Jett's back. Jett just pulled even harder. Its fangs were strong, rooted deep in its maw just beneath a cluster of black eyes. But without the threat of venom, the fangs were no match for Jett's lordly power. Wider and wider he pulled them, the spider beginning to flail, its grip loosening. Jett didn't stop. He pulled as if he was using the posthole digger in the backyard in North Carolina. He could feel the internal membranes begin to snap. He growled, a deep roar turning into a violent yell. Two horrific cracks and the fangs ripped free, spattering Jett with something dark and hot. He flipped the spikes around, and then jammed them back into the spider's face, venom filling its head. In a trembling seizure, the spider let go and fell away.

“See ya, Spidey!” Jett yelled, exultant. But he felt something pull sharply at his legs.
Oh no. The web
.

The spider had wrapped up Jett's legs and was swinging like an enormous anchor beneath him. Jett screamed. The pain was immense. And then Jett saw it: a rocky cleft jutting into the path of the chute line.

Rocketing down the chute line, Tommy felt his insides quaking as he narrowly missed the first protruding stony ridge. He kept his eyes glued to Goldarrow to try to mimic her movements. She rocked to the left. Tommy did likewise. She swung back to the right to miss an outstretched limb. Tommy followed suit. It wasn't that hard actually . . . just a matter of twisting your hips until a little momentum got you swinging back and forth. The trick was controlling the sway so that he wouldn't swing the wrong way at the wrong time.
If I miss, I'll be smashed on the side of a cliff like a bug on a windshield,
Tommy thought just as—
WHACK!
—something slammed into Tommy's feet and he was spinning out of control. He felt the harness tighten on his legs and chest as he spun 'round and 'round. Speeding down the chute line, being squeezed by the harness, and rotating too fast to see, Tommy yelled for help. All he heard in reply was the roar of forest sounds and wind.

Exposed rocky ridges were coming up fast. It looked to Jett like there were some big trees reaching out into his path as well.
The dead Warspider must weigh three hundred pounds,
thought Jett. The first cliff came up fast. Too fast.

Jett could do nothing. He closed his eyes, feeling a heavy difference in the wind as if the air pressure had suddenly changed. He started to rotate a little, but twenty seconds later he opened his eyes to realize he'd missed the rock face.

But there were more ahead. Jett knew he would be at the mercy of anything in his path as long as the spider's corpse was attached.
But maybe
. . . if he could just get his legs close enough to one of the branches or a sharp edge of stone, maybe it would saw through the webs and free his legs.
Or maybe it would tear my legs clean off,
thought Jett despondently.
I heal fast, but not that fast
.