Chapter Three: Clackhissis’s Web

In the morning, the bodies had been secreted into several of Clackhissis’s cubby holes after she had drained and desiccated them. Cushing chortled as Clackhissis complained to herself in spider speech that they carried an odd taste that stayed with her long after she had finished eating. She tilted her body so that he knew she was looking at him.

“What do you find so humorous,” she asked in her stilted human voice.

He continued to pile stones up around the trapdoor that she had made, sealing it up. He clapped his hands together and stood up as he brushed them against one another to get the dirt off them.

“You,” he said with a wink. “You complain about the flavor of your food, and yet you still eat it anyway.”

Clackhissis drew back somewhat, “How do you know this?”

“I’m a Game Warden, and was handpicked by Kaali to help you, remember? I can speak monster if you want to term it as such. You do not need to converse with me in the human tongue. I know it is hard for you. Kaali has made it so that I can converse with any monster that I encounter. That doesn’t mean they’ll always listen, though. Just because you can talk to a blob doesn’t mean it cares what you have to say. They are too basic, too instinctual, to do more than act or react. So, while it’s a great ability to have, it doesn’t always help.”

A slight flash of anger coursed through the spider momentarily, but then she calmed herself. She had not asked if he could speak arachnid. She had merely assumed that he couldn’t. In a black-and-white world of kill or be killed, assumptions were very bad. She had underestimated the Cushing man. She idly wondered if she was getting sloppy. She had, after all, not taken into account that an outside influence could appear during their fight yesterday. Worse yet, she had risked herself to save the manling. She did not regret it too much now, but that was also a miscalculation. “They taste bad, that is true, but the other option is that I feed on you. Would that be preferable?”

Cushing’s eyes widened in shock, “What?”

She tried not to chitter as she threw his words from the previous night back at him, “Would you not “respawn”? You could always rejoin me in time to feed me when hunger strikes again.” She edged herself closer to him. This time, he drew back a hair’s length.

He threw up his hands, holding them out before him, “No, no. I take no umbrage in what you opt to eat for your breakfast.” The Game Warden backed up slowly but made no move to turn and run or draw his sword. Even if he knew she was joking, as he realized that she probably was, those actions could activate her most basic instincts and cause her to attack before the spider realized what she was doing. She was, she admitted to herself, still very young and had yet to gain complete control of her actions. Primal instinct was not erased from a meeting of but a few hours. “I would be happy to scrounge up a few rabbits for you so that you could wash that taste out of your mouth,” he said hopefully.

Clackhissis clicked her pedipalps together in a swift tap, tap, tap motion, “No,” she replied, “I think I can handle the flavor. I suspect that it may be an acquired taste.” Cushing stared at her as if he wondered whether she’d just made a joke. Clackhissis knew that something profound in his heart told him she hadn’t been kidding. Jest wasn’t in her nature.

“Can I ask you something,” he inquired as he scrunched up his face.

The arachnid did not move but replied in the affirmative by bobbing her body up and down.

“That thing you did last night, flying off into the air. How did you do that? Aren’t you too large to have the wind take you? As I recall, it wasn’t all that windy last night, anyway.”

She chittered. “Humans think we spiders float because our draglines are swept up in the wind. The wind does indeed carry us, but it does not let us float. Normal spiders release a slight electrostatic charge that provides the lift, so they do not need wind.” Her voice was forthright, as if she was lecturing a child, “I, myself, have an ability called Ballooning,” she readily amended, “I must fill my dragline with essence to achieve the same effect. I cannot do this for long, as it rapidly depletes my Essence reserves, but it is good for a quick escape or allowing to gain access somewhere I cannot crawl.” She raised her right foreleg to the sky, “I acted without thinking last night; I saw a way to defeat my foe without a prolonged battle. I . . . .improvised.”

Cushing nodded in approval. “Well, I have to admit, when I saw you go gusting off into the firmament, I thought that you’d been grabbed by the hand of Kaali himself. It was an amazing thing to see.”

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

Clackhissis bobbed in appreciation, “May I inquire something of you as well?”

A shocked look came over Cushing’s face as his jaw dropped open, “Sure,” he stated plainly.

“Your helmet,” she began, “You have a strange horn on it. What is that supposed to be?”

His eyes crossed as he looked up and stared at the foot-long blade jutting from his forehead. “It was the last tooth of the monster that I killed in my second trial,” he ran a gloved finger gently across the blade, “I didn’t need it in the forging of my sword, and I hated to see it go to waste. So, I figured that if I was ever unarmed, I would still have a ramming weapon on hand, more specifically, my head. It also makes things less likely to jump onto my noggin when I’m wearing it,” he laughed.

“Manling,” Clackhissis said bluntly, “You are strange, but I can respect your reasoning.”

----

Kaali watched the spider and his new Game Warden. He had managed to get his champion and his essence warrior together. He knew that taking Clackhissis away from watching over Sophia’s champion would upset her, but he had need of the arachnid now. Events were in motion that neither had foreseen, and the goddess of Order had her plate full dealing with the Icthyoid invaders. Their god was her concern. Even if she succeeded in stopping the whole invasion, it wouldn’t matter if he failed in his task. He fretted that the spider was not ready, nor was his would-be paladin the Game Warden. They were still cubs, barely blooded and of a level so low that they might not even survive long enough to begin his quest. It was a most dark and concerning time. He had no idea if Elgard would ever see light again. He could already feel the Icthyoid taint in the great tree’s roots, and by that measure, it was beginning to corrupt him as well.

Theirs was but a single threat that he faced. This world was so fragile, and his children, though plentiful, were constantly being butchered and driven out of territory that was rightfully theirs. He had long ago resigned to the eternal battle of the intelligent humanoids and his “monsters.” It was just the way of the world. He would never be able to change that immutable fact, but he could do something to stop the Icthyoid from infecting his work and remaking his children.

It was ironic, then, that the world had no idea just how much their fate was left in the trust of a monster. Clackhissis still had a lot of growing to do, so he had teamed Cushing up with her. Hopefully, the human would open her mind to different ways of thinking. Clackhissis was an apex spider. The problem was that thinking like a spider would ultimately lead to her and, thereby, his undoing. She needed to become more than what she was, and Cushing was an excellent instructor who could expand her mind in directions that she would never have seen with her eight eyes. Still, Kaali could also appreciate that the Game Warden wasn’t enough to do the job on his own.

Clackhissis would need something else to help her grow and mature. She needed another companion to provide her with an alternate point of view. She needed something that would not threaten her position of strength but would permit her to gain a perspective different from herself. She needed a non-predator. Something that was weak but was a survivor, something that was small compared to her size. The problem was he needed something that could get to the pair quickly, so it had to be in the area. He scratched his chin and considered what might be nearby that he could use. His consciousness spread around his chosen warriors, and he sought the perfect monster to help him in his new quest.

----

Cushing stopped walking and froze in place. His abrupt cessation of motion alarmed Clackhissis, “What is it,” she asked as she took her ready position, crouching low with her forelegs and pedipalps spread wide and her abdomen minimally raised. In this stance, she could defend or flee swiftly.

“Don’t you feel him?” Cushing lifted an arm out before him. “Kaali is among us. I can feel his presence as surely as I breathe air.”

The spider was dubious. “I feel nothing, but I see a fool. Are you going to do this the whole way to Hellsingville?” She was agitated that he had set her into a defensive mode so easily and eased down with a hiss of frustration.

“No, Clackhissis. I am his devoted Game Warden and know when he is near. Kaali is among us. By the way, you sound like someone letting the air out of an overinflated tire when you hiss like that.” He lowered his arm and looked about, “I wonder why I can feel the god’s presence, but he isn’t making himself known to us.”

Clackhissis noted that the manling’s eyes were glowing a soft yellow despite the bright sunlight that enveloped them. However, his face carried a sort of ecstatic tranquility; for the first time that she had seen. The Spider could indisputably sense a hint of monstrous nature within the man. Perhaps, she mused, he was no longer wholly human. It was obvious to her that the slightest trace of the god was enough to bring out his hidden self. She further wondered if he was aware that Kaali had made such changes to him.

The Game Warden’s eyes returned to normal, and the exaltation that had been present on his face vanished, “He’s gone,” he whispered. His hushed tones echoed softly through the air. His disappointment was evident in both his voice and his face. He had wanted to be in the presence of his god once more, and when the Lord of Monsters did not appear, he had taken it to heart. The man did not lie when he boasted of having been touched by Kaali. She could not bring herself to believe that a human would care for monsters more than his own people, and yet she could not deny the truth she now saw before her.

Perhaps this Cushing man could be given a chance. He was not brood, but then she could no more trust one of her sisters than she could a cocked and loaded crossbow aimed at her. To say that a spider’s loyalties were fickle was an understatement. Her people only recognized strength and power; anything less was ignored. Did this Cushing have the potential to be more than a man? Who knew? She couldn’t tell at this point, but she doubted she would ever respect a skin bag of human juice. No matter If Kaali chose to shackle her to him, then he was on his own. Spiders were not protectors. Kaali knew this and still placed the man at her side. It would be up to him to survive. She could handle herself.