Al had frozen when the thing approached.

Stayed still and silent as the horrifying many legged being dragged it back through the door of the castle as its friends looked away, distracted by the arrival of Red.

Into the castle Al was dragged, silently and unseen, taken by a spider thing, and left with it in a dusty candle lit room.

But it would be fine, Al had a method of dealing with spiders. A method that had worked for years.

A simple process: Scream, then throw a shoe at it.

Al’s frozen brain stared in horror at the 3-meter behemoth in front of it, screamed and threw its trainer at the multi-limbed behemoth.

The spider cocked its head as the shoe bounced off its shimmering black skin and a deep creaking voice rang through the room in response. The spider’s inky maw twisted into a rough approximation of a mouth as it began to speak.

“What did you think that was going to do little Al? Did you seek to slay me with a piece of poorly aimed footwear?”

The voice echoed around the room, filled to the brim with perverse amusement as the spider began to chuckle.

The motion was one Al had seen many times, a distinctly human reaction so drastically at odds with the creature’s appearance that Al burst out laughing.

“I honestly have no idea –I just panicked!” Al paused, painfully aware that it was talking to a giant sentient spider thing.

“I don’t suppose you’d be willing to give me back my shoe?” Al suggested nervously.

A tense moment hung in the air for a second as Al tried to read any emotion in the creatures’ eyes, and then a scraping noise as the spider pushed the shoe towards Al with a foreleg.

Carefully Al pulled the shoe back on and focused on tying its laces as It spoke to its terrifying captor.

“So, err do you have a name? Or pronouns? You’re the first spider person I have ever met so it’s hard to know how to address you.”

The creature cocked its head and looked past Al into the middle distance as it responded in the same creaking voice.

“You’re the first to ask I think, or perhaps the first one I remember asking. But people call me spider, or monster, or It usually...”

Al frowned; the tone of the phrase had caught upon its ear in a familiar way, and it responded without thinking.

“People call you? No, that’s not how things work here – we go by who you actually are, not what others say. Let me start.”

Al paused and pushed back an idle thought, what happens to the enby who offends the giant spider and spoke frankly as it would have to any other person, desperately hoping the terror wouldn’t show in its voice as Al attempted not to stutter.

“I for example am Al, which is a shortening of the name my mother gave me – a name I want to use despite her wishes. I also use It/Its/Itself pronouns, not because people want to refer to me as a monster, but because It and its are the pronouns which fit best with my sense of self and identity. It/Its/itself are the pronouns I want people to use for me and no others.”

The spidery thing swayed for a second as it digested Al’s calm words and spoke again, a softer almost melancholy tone beneath its creaking voice.

“Once, long ago my mother named me Jack, a name for a king, she said. A name for he who would rule our world. No one has called me Jack in some time… I think… I think perhaps I am he who would like to be called Jack once again.”

Al forced a wary smile as it ran through its options. Just pretend this giant spider, I mean Jack is just a customer. Put on a brave face and make a dialogue and find out what it, I mean he wants.

Al turned back to Jack, forcing itself to adjust its prejudices and push down the primal fear that a giant spider inspired in a smaller enby.

“Well then Jack... Since it’s clear that you’re not a monster out to eat me… I have to ask…. Are you aware of where you are? Because it’s not your world. Wherever your world was, none of us are from here you, see? We just” Al waved its hands in a vague noncommittal gesture.

“Appeared.”

On key a distant sound filled the room. The rhythmic thud of footsteps and screeching metal as someone or something dragged a metal object towards the doorway from the other side.

The noises stopped at the door, the moment of silence followed by a rattling as the intruder tried the handle and the subsequent booming thud of metal on wood as they found it locked.

Jack reacted instantly, retreating as a spider would to the upper corner of the dimly lit room. Lying in wait? Or perhaps just doing his best to hide from the Intruder.

A second dull thump against the door and Al saw the rusty hinges beginning to give way. Panicked more by the sudden violence and already on edge from the strangely friendly Jack, it looked around frantically for a place to hide, and found in one corner, an ancient wooden wardrobe.

Al gulped and pushed the wardrobe door open as the intruder’s blow was answered by the squeal of failing metal, hide now, worry about the huge sentient spider later.

The room rang with the blows as the intruder swung once, twice, thrice. Again, and again something heavy and metallic collided with the wood of the door. Each sluggish blow a force that warped and bent the hinges further out of shape.

On the fifth blow the hinges gave out, and a figure stumbled in. They tripped as they entered, a loose metal pipe catching between their legs. In seconds Jack was upon them as he leaped from the ceiling in a blur of web and fangs, slashing at the off-balance intruder.

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Al huddled in its cupboard and peeked out at the figure, all but unseen and buried beneath Jack's enormous bulk. Al watched, unsure of what it could or should do, in such a situation.

Before it could think to react, to help or to hinder, the sound of torn cloth and the jangle of coins filled the room as a pocket tore. Jack flinched and small metal disks of metal ricochet across the room towards Al’s hiding spot. By reflex or luck, Al caught one as it hurtled towards the gap it peeked through.

In the flickering light it turned the coin over in its hand. No, not a coin, but a badge embossed with the lettering “She/Her”.

Al’s blood chilled and it burst from its hiding place, moving with speed born of desperation, it moved to tackle Jack as it yelled out.

“STOP!!!! JACK THIS A FRIEND, PLEASE DON’T HURT XEM!”

As Al collided with Jack the pair stopped, stunned, but unmoved as Al spoke breathlessly.

“Stop, stop, stop! This is all a misunderstanding, Biz, this is Jack – pronouns he/Him! And Jack, this is Biz, Xyr pronouns are variable, but xe uses Xe/Xem most of the time!”

The bloodied Biz pulled xemself to xyr feet, xyr alt punk dress torn to ribbons from Jacks attack and turned to look at Jack warily.

“The spider has a name and pronouns?” Xe asked Al, but it was Jack who responded, his low croaky voice filling the cool air.

“Yes, the spider does – and the spider would like you to use them….BIZ”.

Biz flinched and snatched the lead pipe from the floor, wielding its blunted end towards the imposing Jack.

“It can speak?!?!”

Jack emitted a thin hissing noise and moved a chitinous step toward Biz whilst Al mimed frantically for Biz to not antagonise the giant spider.

Biz caught xemself, “I mean he-you can speak? You, Jack can speak?!”

Al nodded enthusiastically and motioned for Biz to continue.

Biz, stammered onward. “Okay, so Jack nice to meet you, err thanks for letting me know your pronouns, as Al said mine vary. Today I’m actually she/her, you’ll be able to tell in future based on the badge I’m wearing” She tapped the torn fabric of her dress to find that her badge was missing.

“Well, when it’s not been knocked loose anyway….”.

She looked around abruptly annoyed by the scattered badges around her and began to gather them up, carefully keeping her back to the wall as she circled the gigantic spider.

The room was uneasily silent as she used the time to collect her thoughts, and Al let her, content to help gather the enamel badges whilst Jack watched from his perch on the upper side of the wall.

Biz counted through the two piles and nodded, satisfied that none of the valuable badges were missing and re-pinned the “She/Her” badge onto her dress as she slipped the remainder into one of her many pockets.

As she pulled herself up, Al cleared its throat intent to interject before the awkward silence could reclaim the room.

“I don’t suppose anyone else fancies a cuppa? This has all been pretty stressful. Jack, I don’t suppose there is any tea around here?”

Jack responded immediately, his arachnid form projecting outrage as he responded in his croaking inhuman voice.

“Of course, I have tea! I could hardly consider myself an Englishman if I didn’t have tea on hand for my guests now could I!

Biz smiled and suppressed a laugh at the unexpected and quintessentially British response from the giant spider.

Without further prompting, Jack moved past Biz and Al, skittering along the worn stone wall and out into the corridor, and paused briefly to motion for the duo to follow him.

Al mused to itself as it and Biz took after Jack. He gave them an impromptu tour as they walked, pointed out the assorted bathrooms (or has he said “water closets”), storage rooms and bedrooms. Al couldn’t help but notice that the Keep was pristine and dust free despite the size, but when asked Jack just shrugged it off as “simple enough”.

They even passed an enormous library, thousands of pristine leather-bound books stretching from floor to ceiling. Charlie was going to have a field day when he saw this!

Which reminded Al, it really should send everyone an update. They would be worried about Al and Biz by now. A quick text: “Biz and I are safe, getting a tour from a giant sentient spider. Quiet friendly. ---NOT A JOKE”

It noticed the typo moments after the text had been sent, but figured the meaning was obvious enough.

Whilst Al had been typing, Jack had led them through the medical styled corridors, his fibrous feet leaving no trace of passage as they moved past polished armour and oil paintings of enormous spiders – Jack's family? Until eventually he led them in a large fire-lit kitchen.

As Al and Biz sat on the uncomfortable wooden chairs arrayed about the place, the spider got to work. He scuttled from one side of the room to the other, extracting tea leaves from a clay jar on one shelf and placing them lovingly into a porcelain teapot from another.

It was fascinating to watch as he wielded his legs like pliers, using them in pairs to grip and lift whilst his remaining legs maneuverer his bulk around the room.

Al found Jack's twitchy movements deeply unsettling, and it had to chid itself about the harsh judgments he had made. Jack, a spider just did things differently, and besides it was not like he could choose to be any less of a spider than he was even if he wanted to.

A cast iron kettle out from a nook above the open fire and the contents poured into the kettle as Jack placed two cups and a shallow dish on the table.

“Do you have milk and sugar?”

Al nodded and asked for 3 spoons of sugar, whilst Biz shrugged and suggested she would have the same. It was clear she would have preferred earl grey.

In spite of, or perhaps because of this she shifted to a topic that had clearly been gnawing at her for some time, as Jack passed each of them the completed beverages.

“Well Jack, I can’t help but notice everything here is very low tech, you don’t have a single light that’s not a candle or oil lamp! I mean, does this keep not have electricity at all?”

Al looked around, and confirmed that as usual, Biz was right. Her sharp eyes had picked up on the key detail that Al had missed in its fascination with the archaic styling of the house

Jack gave a creaky wheezing chuckle in response.

“Of course not, just because I am a spider doesn’t mean I do such things! What do you take me for a necromancer?”

Biz and Al laughed politely at the strange joke, but Jack, confused, twisted his head to face them.

“Why are you laughing, its necromancy is no laughing matter – Are YOU necromancers? I hope not, that would be quite the disappointment to discover just as we are getting along so well. Such foul magic is a poor fit for ones so pure of intent.”

Jack twitched his head and bright, burning light began to swirl throughout the room. As Al and Biz watched it paused suspended in mid-air as it coalesced into a great web of flames arrayed around them.

Jack turned back to them; his tea forgotten as he looked at them with sad eyes.

“Tell me and I’ll make it quick. Are you the necromancer Biz, or perhaps it is you, Al?”

The cup slid out of Al’s hand as its grip slackened.

“What the shit dude?? Magic’s fucking REAL!?!”