“I am not getting on one of them,” Sil said as resolutely as she could. “I’ll remain here before I even consider it.”

Three Leuki spiders waited at the end of the bridge, their white bodies bathed in the rainbow hues of the crystal spire. The Grefe day was barely beginning.

“The Kin will move swift across the Lair,” Luna said, speaking slowly as if to a child. “You are no burden. It is our wish to carry you.”

“I don’t want to be carried,” Sil insisted, feeling an eye begin to twitch. She’d gone past her revulsion for the spiders, made peace with her primal fear of the eight-legged shape, and could even be near one of the great white monsters without cringing like a babe.

But to ride one?!

No bloody way! Not even if the Goddess herself demands it of me under threat of immolation.

“Do I need to tweak your ears too?” Tallah asked as she landed nearby. She slit open a rend and drew out a vial from inside. “Catch!”

Sil did and then scowled at what she held. “I am not drinking this. I don’t need it.”

“Drink up and act like a big girl. Vergil’s watching.”

“I refuse to ride a spider.” She looked down at the Leuki and shuddered. “I mean no offence, but…”

The spider rolled its red eyes up at her. It shook, as if it was equally disgusted by the prospect. “We take no offence. We offer help. Please accept. It will be easiest.”

“Drink the Wail, Sil,” Tallah insisted. She climbed onto the back of her own spider, sitting down cross-legged on its middle segment. A thick cord of white web was fashioned like a kind of strap to hold her in place as the creature moved. “Can you carry two of us?” she asked it.

“If we must, yes,” it answered, seeming nonplussed by the prospect. It did a little shuffle to better seat the sorceress. “We would move slower, but it is possible.”

Tallah gave Sil the most obnoxious shit-eating grin she was likely capable of. She patted her knees. “Well, then. Hop on. I’ll hold you in my arms like the child you are.”

The Banshee’s Wail went down kicking as Sil downed the vial. She held Tallah’s gaze until the entire bottle drained. She would have asked for a second, but that would likely knock her out entirely.

Vergil passed her on the back of another spider, looking equally uncomfortable. He, like she, could remember facing Erisa flanked by two of these, and how easily one of them nearly disembowelled him. Most of the Leuki in the city hadn’t been mindless puppets as it turned out, but creatures suppressed by Erisa’s titanic power of will.

Now that they were free, Sil found them even more terrifying.

“Bugger you, Tallah,” she spat between clenched teeth as the drink bloomed in her stomach, filling her with uncomfortable heat. She bit the inside of her cheek and climbed atop the spider.

It was cold to the touch, nearly chilling. As before, it was covered in a thin layer of flesh-like soft shell, a lot more yielding than she would’ve expected at first glance.

She sat down to spite Tallah’s grinning.

“That wasn’t so hard, now was it?” the sorceress asked.

“Get bent and buggered,” Sil wished her.

“Saviours, we will remember what you did for us,” the Oldest said as it skittered past them across the bridge.

“I can see that,” Tallah commented. She inclined her head towards the side of the chasm and drew Sil’s attention to the monument.

Spiders were busy at work on something. Glittering webs rose on a lone pedestal attached to the bridge, shaped into place with cut rocks and gems. Initially, Sil had believed it some kind of nest. But now that they were crossing the bridge towards the labyrinth, she understood.

It was a sculpture of them, made of light and shadow. As their perspective shifted, she found herself staring at a representation of herself, made out of the intertwining shadows clustering around the thick curtain of shadows.

Her mouth hung slack at the display.

“You will be forever remembered here,” the Oldest went on. “A remembrance of our saviours, and of our mistakes. You have given us back a chance to be. It will not be wasted.”

“Thank you,” Sil found herself saying, unable to tear her eyes from the thing.

As they progressed the play of shadow and light morphed into Vergil’s figure, complete with horned helmet and axe in hand. At the end of the bridge, there was Tallah, wreathed in red light.

“They would command such wonder in Aztroa and Valen,” she mused as the Leuki formed up in front of the labyrinth’s gates.

“They would, yes,” Tallah said. “Never seen anything like that. Interesting to see their idea of what art is. I want to come back here.” She got a far-away look in her eyes. “Maybe we’ll manage. Later.”

Sil was already considering how to improve the sap tonic. Working with Anna, she was certain she could crack the poison of the Crags and nullify it. Part of her wished to take up Panacea’s invitation and present her ideas to the goddess herself.

But Mertle came first.

How she wished she could immortalise this sight somehow and show it to her beloved. She’d done a good thing here, she was certain of it… and it was something to be proud of. The thought darkened her mood as Dreea rose to the surface of her thoughts.

One good thing achieved in a lifetime of shite. How proud you must be.

Sil shook her head and banished the memory of her old life back into its hateful little corner.

Two black spiders caught up to them. They carried blood-stained cocoons of web, the hooves of some forest animal protruding out from one of them. The spiders went ahead into the lair.

“What is a customary saying for departure?” the Oldest asked.

“May you travel in good health,” Tallah answered. “And good bye.”

“May you travel in good health, saviours,” the spider repeated. “Good bye. For now.”

“You catch on quick,” the sorceress said as she donned the bent and abused Ikosmenia. “Sil, don’t forget to purge your illum.”

Vergil waved his good bye. Luna bundled closer on his shoulder, visibly trembling. With excitement or fear, it was hard to say.

Sil still stared at the tribute as they passed past the doors and into the guardian’s domain.

The Leuki started slowly, then quickened their pace. The mist parted for them as they rushed down passages and across stone bridges, Tallah’s mount leading the way in utter silence.

They hadn’t taken any torches this time. They were useless to the spiders, and just holding the things would be difficult. Facing the misty dark was bowel-loosening terrifying, knowing the beast was there, somewhere, stalking the labyrinth.

“We feed the old one,” the Leuki beneath her said in its sing-song voice. “We did it before. We do so again. It will be pleased of the bounty.”

“Why?” Sil asked. She hadn’t heard of anything of the sort before… but she also hadn’t asked after the guardian.

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

“It is of the Makers. It is trapped. It hungers.” The spider made a soft noise, like a person sighing. “We understand hunger. We help. Now we understand compassion. It is good.”

They ran on through the dark, as sure-footed as if they were back in their own city. Sil cried out when the spiders leapt for the first time, something she hadn’t expected. They sailed smoothly through the air, legs splayed out, landed without breaking stride, and kept going at a pace that had her breaking out in cold sweat.

“Scream louder. It may not have heard you the first time,” Tallah called back to her. “Maybe make a sprite and wave it about. We could do with some excitement.”

“Bugger off,” Sil shot back, the Wail in her stomach bubbling up into her head, fanning her belligerence. “I didn’t want to do this in the first place.”

“Get off and walk then.”

“Can we please not get into a stupid bloody row right now?” Vergil asked between them, the unlikely voice of reason. “You two can peck one another after we get out.”

Sil scoffed, meant to produce some invective for the boy as well, but was interrupted by the spider.

“Is the world above… endless?” it asked, searching for the words.

“It’s wide. I can’t say if it’s endless,” she answered, quite taken aback by the question. She’d discussed elements of the surface with the Mother, but not with any other spider. “I can’t say I’m that well travelled. I’ve only seen parts of this continent.”

“What is a continent?”

She explained. The spider kept asking questions. How many people? How many animals? What kinds of animals? What was magic? What was healing? Where did they all come from? Where had the Makers gone?

The last two stumped her. Of course they’d wondered if all the inhabitants of Grefe had perished in the same cataclysm, but none of the books held any answers or suggestion that they’d spread anywhere else. The only conclusion Tallah and Christina had reached was that Grefe had been built as a safeguard against a great threat. All proof pointed to Panacea, but without getting the crystal screens to reveal their secrets it all remained as theory.

“Far as I know, there are no creatures like your Makers,” she said, pensive. “We’ve never heard of them before we came here.”

This had the spider slowing slightly, then picking up speed again. It remained thoughtful. Sil waited for it to say anything more, but nothing more was forthcoming.

Vergil sounded like he was talking to his mount as well. He was doing a piss-poor job of explaining where he had come from and how his world had looked. That poor creature would be left utterly confused once it returned to Grefe.

Heartbeats stretched into bell strikes, then into half of a day of progress before the spiders stopped. They required no rest, but their riders did.

“My butt’s gonna fall off,” Sil complained as they shared a small meal. “Not complaining, mind you. We’ve been going up, right?”

“We have,” Tallah confirmed. She’d lit a torch just for this stop, using old-fashioned flint picked off Ludwig’s corpse. “If I were to guess, we’re about to break into the upper level. A few more bells and we may be out.”

“It’s nice that we get the easy way this time.” Vergil talked as he chewed on some of their last dried meat from Valen. “I was terrified we’d need to cross this place again on our own.” He gestured with the piece of meat at the misty dark surrounding them. A winged, headless statue loomed out of the mist and stared down at them. “It’s a shame we never figured out what’s with this place.”

It was a shame, yes. Would solving the mysteries of Grefe have changed something for any of them? Sil doubted it, even in Vergil’s case. He might have been connected in some way to the city’s past, but he was far from the first Other to have appeared on Edana. If the previous ones hadn’t set the world aflame by their existence alone, she doubted the boy would.

“I trust I’ll learn more when I graft Erisa,” Tallah said. “She knew more than she got to tell. We’ll pick her brains clean when we get her into the fold.”

“Lovely,” Sil said drily. “I can’t bloody wait for my sister.”

Even as she spoke, she felt something else crumbling inside her head, another one of Aliana’s precautions unravelling. But the newly opened path led nowhere, into an empty space where echoes whispered.

Echoes of a sister. A real one. Blood and flesh and bone. Sil chocked and sputtered trying to drink from the canteen.

“What’s gotten into you?” Tallah asked. “Can’t drink properly for fear?”

“Went down the wrong way,” she lied.

She… had a sister? No, that wasn’t right. She didn’t have one. But that was wrong.

Sil shook her head and rubbed at her eyes, fatigue setting in. While the others ate and traded impressions of the ride, she paced the narrow sphere of light, still trying to shake out whatever this new feeling was. One eyelid trembled and her fingers wouldn’t sit still, closing into fists and opening into claws.

She had a sister?! That couldn’t be right.

“You are in distress?” one of the spiders asked, moving closer to her.

“No,” she lied. “No, I’m fine. Just restless.”

It wasn’t enough that she remembered Dreea and now had a face to put to the horrid words that she remembered whispering in her ear forever. No, that was wrong too. It wasn’t a constant companion voice since she remembered, but only since Sil remembered.

She turned in place and nearly collided with Vergil.

“You alright, Sil?” he asked. She couldn’t see his face, just his outline in the torch light. A look over his shoulder showed Tallah talking to the other two spiders.

“I’m fine.”

His outline stared at her, only his eyes reflecting some lingering light, and he spoke softly, “And if we assume for a moment that I’m not a complete idiot, and you stopped lying to my face, how would you say you were?”

She raised a finger at him, thought better of it, deflated with a sigh. “I’m fine, Vergil. Restless, that’s all. Grefe shook me more than I care to admit.” That, at least, wasn’t a lie. Omission wasn’t lying.

Vergil nodded softly, just the bobbing of his head to show it. “We weren’t villains, at least,” he said. To her confusion, he went on, “Back in Valen, you said you and Tallah were villains. I think we did good here. Well, there, back there. You understand.”

She did understand. They had saved the wretches and, in a terribly cruel way, gotten the missing girl out. What they’d done, even if not all intentional, mattered to Grefe’s children.

“I guess that wasn’t very villainous of us,” she admitted finally.

A soft scraping of rock drew their attention but nothing moved in the mist. The Leuki turned to regard the dark, but none of them looked to be alarmed. If anything, they looked bored as they waited for the humans to climb back into place and be lead out.

At the pace they’d been going, they’d sleep all the way out on the other side. Sil had her tonics ready, but it didn’t seem like they’d be needed. Both Tallah and Vergil had taken one look at the vials and concluded they’d rather fall asleep on their feet.

“It feels good,” Vergil went on once the guardian didn’t materialise from the depth of the labyrinth. “It’s fine to be proud of what we did, right?”

That’s a silly notion. But it was likely the first time he had an accomplishment to his name. The Wail build up something spiteful to answer, but Sil swallowed it and instead nodded. “Yes, Vergil, it’s something to be proud of. You’re now one of only three people that know of Grefe, been there, and come out.”

“I was looking at that thing they did for us. It… felt really good.”

“As it should.”

“Do you think we’ll get a chance to help more people?”

Again, she looked over his shoulder at Tallah. “I doubt it. Tallah’s wanted. You have no idea exactly how wanted she is, especially after the stupidity in Valen.”

She bit off the words as realisation dawned, but it was too late. Vergil cringed at the mention of Valen. If something had happened to Mertle, Sil expected the boy to combust in self loathing.

Serves him right, the cruel part of her said. She pushed it away, though it kept niggling.

“But never knows, right? Maybe at the end, we’ll have some people of the empire hailing us as liberators.” Her attempt at softening the earlier mishap had little effect as Vergil remained slumped.

“You two, quit lollygagging. Up up!” Tallah interrupted. “Let’s move and see if we can’t get out by day’s end. I’ve had enough of this place to last me a lifetime.”

Vergil reluctantly mounted his spider, and Sil hated herself for how easily she now got atop hers. The long run recommenced. Her arse would hurt for days after how the spider jolted her on this leg of the journey, constantly hopping on and off paths, never slackening the pace. All three were synchronised in their pursuits. Each jump was executed precisely, and each landing jolted Sil’s bones.

But they were making astonishing progress. She remembered the slow, crawling pace they’d had when coming in. Lifetimes separated that moment from this.

It would have been a perfect, easy trip. They were almost out. She recognized the early passages and the ruins, but not the light. It shone from beneath the shattered path, an eerie cyan glow that cast their shadows into the mist.

The spiders skidded to a halt and then shuddered in warning.

At the end of the shattered path, the guardian awaited. Sil witnessed it for the first time in the light as it occupied the entire passage.

An eyeless, elongated head sat atop a short, stubby neck, and that atop a sinuous mass of corded muscle. Its top half was an amalgamation of human and reptilian features. Two long arms knuckled at the ground, talons as long as Sil’s arm glittering on each of its massive fingers.

Its lower half was snake-like, coiled around the path, twitching.

The guardian swung its drake-like head towards them and opened impossible jaws. She witnessed row upon row of long, thick fangs, wet with drool and the blood of the spiders’ offerings.

That terrifying head morphed before their very eyes. Bones cracked. The jaw retreated. A human-like visage appeared, featureless but for a fang-filled mouth. It slurred some alien sound as the process drew to an end.

Tallah was already halfway up off the spider’s back. Vergil had drawn his axe.

“Wait,” the Guardian hissed at them. “Please. Listen. While I am muh… muh… myself.”