Gertrude helped me to my feet while her siblings continued to look on with rapt wonder. Some inched closer, but their eyes were not on me. Instead, they appeared to be fixated on the fallen corpse of their mother. Their fangs twitched in a way that looked familiar. The movements were much like when the ones I’d seen when I had when I’d been restrained. That was when Gertrude began showing signs of the insatiable hunger.

It was time to go. With as many babies and adolescents as there were, it wouldn’t take long for the mass of spiders to finish off their mother. I was safe for now, but there was no way to know what might happen once their food source had been devoured. With Gertrude no longer playing, I wouldn’t be sticking around to find out.

Then there was the matter of the remaining milk. Only a few drops remained within the grotto, and I was sure they wouldn’t last long.

I still needed two portions for the cat’s quest, one to replace what I’d given away and another to finish it off. I quickly retrieved the cap from the mound of silk where I’d been bound and then used the brood’s momentary distraction to obtain the last two portions. Once they were safely secured within my inventory, I cast one look back toward the throng and turned to leave.

Sneaking away like this was bittersweet. It wasn’t how I wanted to close this chapter, but it was probably for the best. I hadn’t expected to befriend a spider, but it had happened all the same.

I hadn’t gone but a few painful steps before I was startled to hear her familiar voice.

“I see you’ve gotten your milk for the kitty. With mother gone, I suspect you will be leaving now. Is that right, Miss Claudia?” Gertrude asked from somewhere right behind me.

Her sudden presence sent a shiver down my spine. It was a harsh reminder that the forest child I’d come to know, and trust, was changing. Growing. If she didn’t already, she would soon command the entire brood, and there was no telling how that might impact the rest of my time within the dungeon. I felt compelled to stay and attempt to guide them somehow. Surely, with Gertrude playing, I could have some sort of influence. Then again, I already had more on my plate than I’d bargained for.

Danger was coming. Not for them, but for me.

“Yes,” I answered, choosing truth over the ease of a gentle lie. “I’m afraid it’s time for me to go. I’ve got a lot to do before I can make it back home again, and it seems my actions here have upset some very powerful enemies. The last thing I’d want to do is to draw them here. It’s not your fight, and it would put you and your family in terrible danger.”

“I see,” she said, leaning down low until her forehead touched mine. “I will miss you. Terribly so, I’m afraid.”

“I will miss you, too.”

Nothing was said between us for what felt like an eternity. Then she let out a sigh and prepared to speak. When the words came, they were filled with genuine concern.

“You were injured when you were fighting my mother. Your skin is softer than ours, and the wound on your leg looks really bad. Infection might set in if you aren’t careful. Are you sure you will be alright?”

“I’m sure I’ll manage.” I laughed. “I have no other choice.”

“Yes, I’m sure you will. There’s just one last thing. Might I beg a simple favor before you leave?” she asked, taking a step back so she could look me directly in the eyes.

This was where things could get dangerous. To say yes might invite a quest, a quest I didn’t have time for. But this was Gertrude. She had risked her own life to save mine. She had even helped me slay her mother, and now she would have to take her place. That was no small task, and it would take far more responsibility than I had the right to ask.

“Anything.”

Gertrude pulled back another two steps. The newfound boldness and confidence she’d found after surviving our fight shattered, and her legs began to tremble in fear. She stood silent for a long moment, gazing intently into my eyes before she finally spoke.

“I will never forget you, Miss Claudia,” she said. “You are a magnificent warrior. You are fierce and kind and brave. One day, I’ll have a daughter, a very special daughter. I could think of no higher honor than if you would grant me permission to give her your name.”

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The wave of relief that came upon hearing her request was unexpected. This wasn’t a quest, which was cause enough to celebrate, but the feelings that threatened to overwhelm me now were so much more than I’d ever expected.

I couldn’t help but think of Ellis and the legacy he had left behind. My mind went to my own silent promise, the one I’d made on the bleakest of nights: to keep his namesake alive when I had children of my own, if life gave me the chance.

That was before I learned about the dungeons, and the terrible price I would pay.

It was strange, but the spider standing before me brought back so many other memories, too. Gertrude reminded me of myself in so many ways. I saw not a monster, but a young woman who was just starting to understand the pains that were an unfortunate part of living in the true reality of her world.

Deep down, I knew that Gertrude couldn’t be real. Still, our interactions felt just as genuine as any I’d experienced in real life. I felt my heart break for her and the sweet innocence she had been forced to lose. Life, wherever it was, could be unfathomably cruel.

I didn’t know what effect granting her wish might have, or how it would force the dungeon to change. In that moment, none of it mattered. I knew that my answer was the only one that I could ever give, and I felt it with every single fiber of my being.

“Yes, of course,” I exclaimed. The words burst out of me, seemingly of their own accord, and I felt myself close the distance and wrap my arms around her over-sized abdomen. “Nothing would honor me more.”

“Thank you, Miss Claudia,” she said, leaning into my embrace while wrapping me in a hug of her own with her forward-most legs.

We ended our embrace, and I wiped a fresh wave of tears from my cheeks.

“I hope that one day she will grow to be just as smart and fearless as you,” she continued. “But now you must leave. I’m afraid my family will grow restless soon. They will want to feed, but it is far too soon. I understand that now. I know why my mother created her music. This is why we dance. It is so we don’t descend. This is why I must return to my mother’s instrument. I must return, and then I must play.”

I nodded and took a slow step backward, wiping the tears from my cheeks. She was right. It was time for me to go. I no longer had just the tasks of getting the milk to the dungeon’s version of the Cheshire Cat and figuring out the deal with Absolem. I now had to contend with both the Red Queen and the Jabberwocky in the process.

If I leveled up by killing the Spider Matriarch, it only stood to reason that they would level up my killing the spiders here in the grotto as well. Leading the stronger mobs here would be a double-edged sword. Sure, I’d have help, but each spider that fell would decrease our odds of survival. And, just as with the Spider Matriarch, being unable to eat the cookies to grow would put me at a significant disadvantage. This place was always designed to be a death trap. Even though I wanted to stay here with Gertrude, it was better to leave as quickly as possible.

We both turned and went our separate ways. She skittered toward the harpsichord, while I limped back to the silk-covered corridor. It wasn’t long before I heard the sweet song as her legs began dancing across the keys.

While this might be goodbye, our parting wasn’t entirely sad. The feeling, much like the first time when she’d started to play, filled me with hope for better days. Hope that all of this was for a reason, that I would one day look back and understand, and that was the power of her song.

One day, this grotto would come to know a young spider named Claudia. She would be strong and brave, just as her mother had grown to be, and as for me, I would leave this place. I would leave it and the horrible memories behind. This one would stay with me. This one, I would keep. I would return home, I would continue to fight, and one day I would find what I was looking for.

These were promises that couldn’t be made. Not by song. Not by a spider. Certainly not by me. I knew better. There were a million or more ways to die before the end, but it gave me hope. And that was much more powerful than any weapon or armor upgrade I’d found so far.

I could have flown from the grotto, but I chose to walk. I chose to feel the pain of my injury with each agonizing step. It was the only way to keep the hope of Gertrude’s song from taking me. I had to find a way to remain realistic if I wanted to survive. Baseless hope could be a very dangerous thing.

This place was a nightmare of brilliant design, created or at least heavily influenced by an entity that sought to do me real and irreparable harm. If the Verbosity achievement was any indication, that entity had taken a very real and unwanted interest in me, and I couldn’t see how that might be a good thing. No matter how much hope I felt, it was important to remember that fact. It was also important to remember that I still had a long and arduous journey ahead.

Even with the change of leadership within the spider’s grove, I still took great care to avoid bumping into the random strings of silk. There was no telling what would happen if I tripped one now. I was sure that Gertrude wouldn’t mind, but I wasn’t exactly keen to find out. The more things I could control in this place, the better.

That last thought caught me off guard and I snorted aloud at the ridiculousness of it all. As if there were a way to actually control anything in a place like this. That was the rub. It was always important to remember that the closest thing to controlling the outcome of anything within these dungeons was nothing more than the mere illusion of control.