Glistening threads of spider silk wove through the brambles and twigs overhead, bathing the world beneath in a wavering mix of ominous, shifting shadows and rainbow-hued light that shimmered and danced. Hovering above the ground to avoid becoming entangled in the mess, I pressed forward into the unknown of the oncoming gloom. The silk grew thicker, and the darkness felt heavier the further I went.

Still, I flew on, moving ever closer to the spiders’ den, stopping only long enough to evoke my illumination spell. The soft, glowing orb sprang to life and lit the way. It bobbed up and down like a twilight sprite. Meanwhile, soft murmurs of footsteps tip-tapped from countless hairy, spiny legs paddling and podling both this way and that from somewhere up ahead.

The endless sound of scurrying sent a shiver of revulsion crawling down the length of my spine.

“Milk of the Spider…” I grumbled. Quietly. To myself. Anything to create some sort of distraction from the noise. “Sure, why not? It’s not like this dungeon is ridiculous or anything. Alice in Wonderland, talking caterpillars, and ethereal cats… oof!”

Fluttering to the side at the last possible second, I narrowly avoided a silken thread. I hadn’t seen it while getting lost in my grumblings. That could have been bad. Really bad.

As far as I could tell, each of the gleaming threads weaving through the maze-like corridor of woven silk acted like a trigger on an alarm system. These threads, as innocuous as they seemed, reached all the way back to the main chamber. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that one tiny mistake would bring the whole den swarming toward me, and there was no way that was going to end well. Not as far as I was concerned, anyway. The spiders, on the other hand, would probably welcome the ready meal.

I swallowed the fear that was growing inside me, let out a measured and controlled breath to refocus, and then continued my flight forward. The eerie notes of an out-of-tune harpsichord suddenly punctuated my advance, all but drowning out the sound of the spiders scurrying.

The song was melancholy-sad, but carried a rhythm that made me want to dance. I felt myself moving back and forth, swishing in the air like a feather, drifting and falling, but never so much as touching the ground. The disjointed music lulled me into thoughts of tea parties and memories that I’d long forgotten. In that moment, I felt so very far away, but also very much alive. The whole thing was ludicrous, irrational; and yet I felt the magic of the place all the same.

Ahead, the narrow tunnel eventually widened, revealing a grotesque grotto of webbing and writhing bundles of silk. Milky balls of liquid the size of laundry baskets dappled the scene. The giant spiders skittered back and forth to the tune, their legs a flurry of practiced motion. Even the smallest of them, the Spiderlings, were as big as a horse.

It was a ball. A dance. An event of such magnitude that I stopped to take it all in. The scene before me was that of a grand spider ball of proportions so massive, I could scarcely process the entirety of it. There had to be thousands of spiders, if not tens of thousands. Their shiny, black bodies glinted in the soft iridescence as they danced.

Goosebumps covered my exposed skin.

I extinguished my light.

Sitting on a mass of bones in the center of the grotto, which I now took to be a ballroom of sorts, the Spider Matriarch struck the keys of the harpsichord with deadly precision. Despite the fact that each note was slightly wrong, off key due to the lack of tuning, the music was nothing short of magical.

In a pile to my left, there was a bunch of very large fallen acorns resting in the shadows. After drinking the contents of the bottle in the dungeon lobby, they were just about my size. I counted them. There were exactly five. The spot was suspiciously clear of webbing, and the number was far too perfect to be a coincidence.

I carefully removed the caps of the acorns and placed the overly large makeshift bowls into my inventory. Then I took the acorns, too. I was genuinely surprised the system let me do it. I had no idea what I might use them for, but clearing the area gave me a place to fight without the worry of triggering any of the nearby alarm threads.

With my camp established safely out of the way of the prancing mobs, I prepared to lure the first of the smaller spiders. This wasn’t as easy as I would have thought. The arachnids danced around the grotto, exchanging partners as they went. They moved in groups of two and three, sometimes four. Around and around they waltzed.

I watched the horrific and dizzying promenade, waiting for an opportunity to strike.

You cast Dazzle on the Spider Hatchling.

You have successfully Enchanted the Spider Hatchling.

Mentally pulling at the mob I now had under my control, I nudged it from the others and bid it to come closer. Both of my chackrams were ready. The enchantment wouldn’t last long, so I crouched low and prepared to strike.

The Hatchling drew near, weaving with stunning grace through the tangled threads of the nest. Each delicate footstep arched downward with an elegance I hadn’t expected. Eight beady eyes glistened as they held my gaze.

“Hello, Dear Miss,” the creature sang. The spider had the voice of a small girl. “Have you come to dance?”

This was not how Dazzle worked. Not under normal circumstances, at any rate. I thought back to the prompt when I’d first entered the dungeon. It hadn’t indicated that my magic would perform differently here. I looked down at my hands. They were still clenching the razor sharp circular blades. Swirls of Fae magic twisted and turned around the menacing weapons, enhancing their damage potential and threatening to evoke Deadly Strike against Dazzled targets.

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The spider's eyes followed mine. She took a quick step backward, inhaling as she reached one of her eight legs up to her gigantic, fanged mouth. Then she stretched another leg in front to defend herself against incoming attacks. The gestures appeared feeble, and strangely human, but just as natural coming from the gigantic mob.

I had no idea how that made any sense. It just did. My heart sank in my chest.

“Oh, Dear Miss. Please.” She quivered and shook. “I don’t wish to fight you. Wouldn’t you rather dance with me instead? Come. Mother is playing us a song.”

The dungeon was messing with me. Either that or it was the jukebox toying with my emotions. It had to be, but I had a decision to make. I needed more time to think this through. I was missing something. Something that felt very, very important.

“It’s okay,” the Hatchling said. “I promise I won’t bite. I drink milk, not blood. Don’t be afraid.”

I slipped my weapons back into their fitted sheaths and took a step backward to show the spider that I meant her no harm.

She took a tentative step forward and outstretched one of her massive legs, as if offering to hold my hand.

“Come,” she said. “Wouldn’t you like to dance?”

“Wait,” I said. “Just wait. I need to think.”

The theme of the world…

Staying Alive…

Think, Claudia. Think.

Just stay alive. Stay… alive.

That was it!

This dungeon was a fairytale, of sorts, but dying here had consequences. There were no do-overs, and there would be no going back to the real world if I didn’t make it out alive. But nothing had tried to kill me. Not yet, anyway.

The dots on the mini-map were red for some of the spiders, but gray for others. They were orange for the ants, and yellow for the slugs. Absolem’s was purple. This one was gray. That meant she might not be aggressive, but it also didn’t necessarily mean she wasn’t.

I took a breath and tried to decide.

The theme was to stay alive. I hadn’t killed anything yet, and I hadn’t gotten aggro from any of the mob. Nothing had died. If I fought the slugs and the ants around Absolem, I would be breaking that rule. The mobs would aggro and then they’d attack. It made sense. What made even more sense was the thought that came next.

The more mobs I killed, supposing I could kill them, the stronger the rest would get. And then once Absolem entered his cocoon, I would have to protect him from wave after wave until he finally hatched or emerged or whatever butterflies in this world did when they left their hardened shell.

The whole thing was coming together in my mind, and I was pretty sure I’d just figured it out. This was it. There was a chance I was wrong, but, as strange as it was, it made sense. If I was wrong about this spider… I would no longer be the one with the element of surprise.

“I’m afraid I only have two legs,” I said, performing another curtsy. This one was on purpose. “There’s no way I could dance as delicately as you.”

The spider did a little jig of happiness upon hearing the compliment. Then she covered her mouth with her front-most legs. A little giggle bubbled out as she bowed low.

“You do flatter me, Dear Miss,” she responded, her eyes still cast downward. “Mother says our feet are but instruments upon the web. We should let the music do the dancing. You can do it, I’m sure of it. I believe in you.”

She reached one leg toward me with slow and timid grace.

I extended a hand, causing her to pull back.

After a second, she offered her leg once more. This time, she allowed me to touch her. The outer shell of her arachnid appendage was as hard as steel and ended at a point that was sharp enough to inflict heavy damage if she changed her mind.

She did not, in fact, change her mind.

“I can’t believe it. We’re actually going to go dancing,” she squealed. Her fangs flexed in the air as she spoke, which I took as a sign of her growing excitement. “You won’t regret it. We’re going to be such great friends, you and me. My name is Gertrude. It is very nice to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you, too, Gertrude,” I said. “My name is Claudia.”

“Claudia,” Gertrude repeated. Her black eyes gleamed. “Oh, that is a very pretty name. I have many sisters. There is a Betsy and a Lucy, a Lovely and a Beauty, and so many more. It would take ages to tell you them all. None of them are a Claudia. It’s such a pretty name. Perhaps I’ll name one of my daughters Claudia. I mean, if you wouldn’t mind."

Gertrude was about to lead me back toward her siblings when I stopped short. She paused, turning to look at me.

“What’s wrong? Are you still afraid you won’t be able to dance?”

“No,” I said. “It’s not that. I actually came here for something. I’m supposed to retrieve some milk for a big kitty, but I don’t know where to find it. Do you think you could help me?”

“Milk? For a kitty?” she asked, her mood now a little more pensive. “My mother gives us milk. She places it on the ground for us to drink. Do you think that would do? You could take some if you would like. Just don’t let my older brothers and sisters catch you. They’ll get angry if they see.”

I looked out across the sea of prancing arachnids. It was clear she was talking about the Juvenile Spiders, and by the look of them I’d do well to heed her advice.

I nodded. “Okay.”

Gertrude pulled me gently toward the throng. With her bigger size, her strides were much larger than mine. She was so eager in her excitement to return to the dance that taking flight was the only way I could keep from tripping in the sticky silk that lined the floor.

The notes from the harpsichord seemed to grow louder around us. My heart was taken by the music and my feet fluttered in the air as I hovered behind the rushing spider.

We danced and danced. The entire grotto was illuminated with the light of distant fireflies. The orange glow ebbed and flowed as the bugs performed a mesmerizing waltz of their own above the web. Everything was so perfect. My heart raced and my mind began to wander for a time.

I thought of the days before all of this, before Bob and his Divebar inside the vacant hamburger joint. A time before the jukebox. A time before Ellis had…

I let it go and lost myself in the moment, lingering in a space between spaces for a long while. A really long while. It felt like an eternity before I finally clawed myself back from the edge of oblivion.

The notes of the harpsichord still played the sad and off-key melody. Around and around we went, dancing and laughing, weaving and swirling. Tears ran down my cheeks and my eyes burned with the release of months’ worth of sadness.

This dungeon wasn't a magical place. Not really. It certainly did feel magical, though. The grotto was a place of magical beauty, and that beauty could be deceiving. It was a part of the dungeon. I could die here.

Despite the magic and the enchantment of this place, my death here would be very real. It would have real-world consequences. The boys at the diner would hang their heads in memory. The song would level up again, and possibly more after that, but then someone would beat it and life would go on. It would go on without me. Just as it had gone on without my brother.

I thought of how Earl had cleared the dungeon after Ellis had died. My brother was trapped inside the jukebox. That thought shook me to my core. I wasn’t ready to let go. I had to save him, even if I didn’t know how to do it just yet. This was no time to give up and die. I had too much left to do.

I just… had… to… stay… alive…