The Last Satyr: The Two Paths Part 2

The tunnels of driders are not like the tunnels of men. They are no more than cracks in the earth—some leading to the side and some leading straight down. Without the glowing light of the footstones to guide them, the boys couldn’t see the way ahead. It was always pitch-black in the rocky, twisted tunnel, so dark it was as if they had their eyes removed from their heads. There were no lights of any kind here. If not for Leradien leading them, they’d either be lost or have fallen into some bottomless black hole by now. Yet with her spider legs, Leradien easily handled every obstacle, scurrying up and down the sheerest walls, and even hanging upside down from the ceilings.

She also traveled much faster than the boys did. If she got too far ahead, she would stop and wait for them. Across numerous dangerous sections, she carried them. Many times, she could have “accidentally” dropped Ronthiel down some bottomless pit, but never did. Her grip on him remained unyielding.

At her pace, the boy realized that, if this tunnel led the same way as the military highway, they would actually reach the drow city before the others—assuming they were headed to the same place.

Their swift progress might prove necessary, for another problem might soon arise—food. There was none to be found here. For driders, this was not a problem. Leradien could go weeks without eating but not so the boys. Their backpacks, even though supplied by the Gray Elves and, therefore, being bigger on the inside than on the outside, would eventually either empty of food or their provisions spoil.

To help speed them, Leradien cast her fairy lights, the same as that one drow had done in the cemetery, to light their way. Otherwise, the boys couldn’t see their own hands in front of their faces, having to feel their way forward. But Leradien, being only half-drow, could only make it but once a day (although her demon blood produced much stronger light spells than ordinary drow), so she chose her times to cast it carefully and for as long as possible for them.

“We appreciate you can make those lights,” offered the boy in gratitude after one particularly difficult crossing.

“Don't be too glad,” she replied . “Other driders are ahead who can see a long way off—nearly twice as far as me. They can not only see my lights but also deduce the reason their casting. They serve no purpose to drow—only for surface dwellers to see by. They’ll know you’re here. You must stay close to me.”

“How likely are we to run into one?” asked the boy.

“Hard to say.” Leradien thought about it. “We might avoid them or encounter several. Maybe we can reason with them.”

“How long must we endure this filthy hole?” Ronthiel inquired of their confines. “The air never moves in here. Not a breath! It is forever night here but with no moon or stars—not even clouds. Just breathing in this place chokes me!”

“You are not alone in that opinion,” agreed the boy of their silent tomb. “For I too fear to enter a hole. I am no dwarf. Give me the wide-open spaces to this place any day!”

“Yet she handles it fine,” Ronthiel said of Leradien ahead. “It doesn’t seem to bother her at all. In fact, I think she likes it down here!”

“You are right,” she replied to that, hearing them. “It does not bother me at all. What bothers me is always having to listen to you!”

“Stop it!” ordered the boy. “Both of you! It is not Leradien’s fault that we do not like tunnels. We have no one to blame but ourselves! So let us move forward. The sooner we get to our destination, the sooner we get out of here!”

“True, but the faster we go, the faster we run into whatever creatures lie ahead,” noted Leradien. “And I fear one is close by.”

She now stopped and stared ahead, the two boys nearly running into her from behind.

“What is it?” asked the boy.

“Another drider,” she warned.

Another drider? The boy’s eyes widened, not knowing what expect. Leradien had warned them they might meet one. Yet she showed little fear on her part.

It couldn’t be too bad. After all, there were three of them to one of it, and one of them was a drider too.

Yet as the boys gazed ahead, fear seized them both. For even without torches, even without Leradien’s fairy light, they could see the other drider. A giantess, she loomed above them, her spider body huge beyond measure and covered with coarse, horrible hair. The boys had never seen or even dared imagine anything so big and terrifying.

The boys gripped each other in fear and wanted to flee in horror, but Leradien reached back and held them both fast.

“People,” the giantess drider observed of them. “You have little people.”

“They are mine,” Leradien informed her.

“But you have more than you need,” replied the giantess. “Can you not give me one?”

“They are both mine,” repeated Leradien, who then warned the boys. “Ronthiel, don’t let the boy look into her eyes! He is not immune to her spells like you and me.”

“Which one of them is yours?” asked the huge woman. “I shall take the other.”

“I said they are both mine,” repeated Leradien.

“It is not fair that you have two when I have none.”

The boy discerned the drider woman’s face quite clearly. For, at her size, it was difficult not to. She was a remarkably beautiful drow with strange purple eyes. Yet her spider body went beyond all description of horror. It was just monstrously huge and hairy.

“They are mine,” Leradien spoke with absolute certainty.

“I shall be nice to them,” the woman offered. “I shall not hurt them. Please let me have one.”

“I told you,” stated Leradien firmly. “They are mine.”

The boy wondered why the other drider did not simply reach down and take one of them. She was certainly big enough to do so. He cringed in that expectation, staring up at her huge eyes, seemingly lit by candles from within and yet so eerily lovely somehow.

“The satyr wants me,” she said, noticing him. “I can tell.”

“Do not look in her eyes,” Ronthiel warned the boy.

Already, the boy felt like he was in a dream. Although the other drider’s spider body was horrible beyond all imagination, the woman’s voice was pleasant and gentle, calling to him with offered love. Her eyes were all warm and kind.

“They are mine,” stated Leradien once again, more firmly.

“Not that one,” replied the woman. “He wants me. Come to me, my little satyr!”

The boy obediently started forward towards her, only for Leradien to suddenly yank him back.

“Release him from the spell of your eyes,” she warned the giantess, “or I shall release you from your life!”

The purple eyes smoldered in objection but reluctantly averted their gaze from the boy, who suddenly recovered his senses and recoiled from that gargantuan spider thing.

“See how the boy really sees you,” Leradien told her. “You shall have to find another. These two are taken. Now stand aside unless you dare stand in a black widow’s way!”

Amazingly, the gigantic drider stepped aside, even though she was many times larger than Leradien. Though her eyes were full of longing, she let them pass without following.

It left the boy amazed to witness it.

“I did not know driders could get anywhere near that big!” he breathed.

“She is what is called a terrorantula,” Leradien informed him. “They are the hugest of the huge, but they are not poisonous. Their terror is only in their appearance, for they are quite timid and docile. They are useless in battle. She might smother you with lonely love, for that is their madness, but she would certainly never fight for you. Not even against a single orc would she defend you. Trust me. You are better off with me.”

The boy hugged close beside her in obvious agreement.

They continued on in the darkness, often using their hands to crawl over the rock when necessary. Drow despise driders for failing Lolth and so gave them the worst ways to travel, but often the worst ways are the shortest. They were making good time. Wherever they arrived, they would do so well before the others. That’s when, in the far distance, a faint light glowed.

“A drow city,” said Leradien. “But it is still far off. We have much further to go.”

“Do you think we’ll meet any more driders?” asked the boy.

Even as he spoke another female voice challenged them from the darkness ahead.

“Who are you?” demanded the other. “And what do you bring?? Are those prisoners for Lolth?”

“What city lies ahead?” called Leradien.

“The city is Orlytlar,” was the reply. “Do you bring two prisoners to Lolth?”

“Does the highway from the Deep Hai also lead to Orlytlar?”

“It does. Are your prisoners for Lolth?”

They realized from her answer they were headed to the same drow city as the others of their company taking the messenger tunnels. This was welcome news, though the tone of the woman’s voice was not.

“They are mine,” answered Leradien, hoping to end the challenge.

Now the other drider came forward. The boy saw only the gleam of her eyes. From their height, though, she seemed smaller than Leradien.

“Give me your prisoners,” she insisted with a note of desperation in her voice.

“Why?” asked Leradien. “They are of no use to you.”

“If I brought Lolth your two prisoners,” said the other, “She would reward me by removing my curse.”

“No one can remove your curse.”

“What Lolth makes, she can also unmake.”

“She cannot make you new legs.” Leradien gazed at her. “Even if she could separate you from your demon spider, which she cannot, your legs would still be eaten off and you would only die in your own blood.”

“Lies!” argued the other. “If that were true, you would not be taking her the prisoners yourself! You have failed Lolth or she would not have punished you by making you into a drider! That’s why you’re taking her those prisoners now—in order to get her to remove your curse!”

“My curse cannot be removed,” stated Leradien. “Nor can yours.”

“If Lolth cannot remove your curse, why then do you take two prisoners to your enemy?”

“They are not prisoners,” Leradien's voice spoke with authority. “They are enemies of Lolth and I am granting them safe passage. Do not interfere! As you can see, they are armed. They shall kill you if you come near, as shall I.”

“If they are not your prisoners, then they shall become my prisoners!”

“Your mind deceives you,” Leradien softly told her. “You know you cannot defeat me. Look at me. Dare you oppose me? Cast off your insanity. You can still do so. Think of someone you love.”

“Me!” cried the other. “I think of me! I love me! I love myself enough to not want to be this thing I’ve become! I am not like you!”

“Do not think it a curse but a gift as I do.”

“A gift?!” the other exclaimed in disbelief. “How can you think that? You think it is a gift to be made an outcast? To be cursed, to be forever hideous and lonely?”

“I have two companions,” said Leradien, “so I am not lonely. And I am more beautiful than any woman born, so I am not hideous. Neither has anyone cast me out. Rather, I have cast the drow out. I welcome this body. You should do the same.”

“Hah!” cried the other. “You’re even more insane than I am to think that!”

Leradien was unmoved. “Join us against Lolth, the one who made you what you are now. She is your true enemy.”

“Go against Lolth? Have you seen her?” cried the other. “She would kill me in an instant, the same as you!”

“Not me,” said Leradien, “for I am a black widow, the same as she.”

The other paused and then whispered in sudden realization, “Two Lolths!”

Leradien nodded and issued her challenge. “Now either join us or stand aside! For you know I am poisonous when you are not.”

The only answer was stony silence. The boy heard Ronthiel place an arrow in his bow, and so he unslung his and did the same. He wondered what good they would do against a drider and especially when they couldn’t even see to aim. Yet Leradien had told the other drider they would fight her and so they made ready to do so.

“When I loose my third arrow, let yours fly at the same time,” whispered the elf. “I shall fire fast, so be ready.”

“How will you see to aim?” For the boy was blind.

“Watch Leradien and you will see. Aim well!”

That’s when a fireball erupted in the hands of Leradien—fairy fire, the boy remembered, raising his bow to the other drider.

As Leradien cast her fireball, the elf fired his first arrow at the other drider, now illuminated. By its light, the boy took aim. With an elf’s speed, Ronthiel had already loosed his second arrow as the illumination faded faster than expected, all opposing drow being resistant to such spells. The boy let fly his arrow at where the drider woman had stood as Ronthiel let go his third.

By the fading light of the fairy fire, they barely made out the drider woman. Three of their arrows had missed. How could that be? The boy gaped in amazement. The shots were not that difficult, and Ronthiel never missed. Yet a fourth arrow had hit, finding its mark in her drow’s lower abdomen and it had been driven deep, all the way into her spider demon’s self.

The boy was stunned to see that it was his arrow. How had he hit when Ronthiel had missed?

The drider looked shocked and surprised to see the arrow so deeply driven into herself and her front legs buckled from the blow. The wound, though, was not mortal, for their black demon blood makes a drider very hard to kill. She was already rising back up again when Leradien rushed forward to meet her in battle, a tangled sea of legs meeting. As the last of the fairy fire disappeared, they were all engulfed in total blackness again and surrounded by nothing but stone and the fury of battle.

The boy lost Ronthiel. Meanwhile, the two driders were fighting, claws flying and fangs biting—or so he imagined as he saw none of it. Yet they certainly created enough noise to fill in the details—and they were close.

And where was Ronthiel? He had been beside him a moment ago. No one was there now as the boy groped for him. Yet the battle raged on, unseen, multiple limbs flailing between the two driders locked in deadly combat. The clash of claws and the sounds of hisses filled the air.

He heard a muffled cry of protest and then a gurgling gasp followed by a body falling to the ground. Only one drider now stood in the stony silence. The boy heard someone panting in the dark for their breath.

There was an elf lantern in the shoulder strap pocket of his pack and the boy removed it and struck it against the floor. Bright white light immediately burst forth in his hand. For an elf, lantern uses no flame. It is a clear, crystal stone that gives off light when struck.

He came cautiously forward to find out who had won.