And so Asenka returned her attention to battle, the spider's bite all but forgotten.
Makala and Haaken stood wrapped in webbing strong as steel, held captive by a pair of web mummies while crimson spiderlings crawled across their bodies, stinging whatever flesh remained exposed. The younglings' mother crouched in front of them, the tomb spider's fangs glistening with fluid as she prepared to inject them with her venom. The only reason the giant spider hadn't done so by now, Makala assumed, was because the arrival of Diran and his companions had distracted her. But now that the rest of the tomb spider's web mummies were attacking the intruders, evidently the mother was ready to return to the business at hand: namely preparing new hosts in which she could implant eggs.
The spiderlings' stings hurt, but Makala's undead physiology seemed unaffected by their venom. She wasn't certain what effect a full dose from an adult tomb spider might do, though. Haaken roared and struggled against his silken bonds as the spiderlings savaged his body, but Makala thought the wereshark reacted more out of rage and frustration than pain. While Haaken was a lycanthrope, he was still a living creature, and might well react more strongly to an injection of adult tomb spider venom.
Makala didn't care what happened to Haaken, nor did she care whether or not Nathifa succeeded in absorbing the magic of Paganus's hoard. Right now all she cared about was not becoming a repository for a clutch of tomb spider eggs.
As the tomb spider moved forward to bite Makala, the vampire transformed into mist. The arachnid's fangs passed through her insubstantial form harmlessly. The web mummy that had been holding onto her staggered backward as if in confusion, and the webbing that had encircled her, with nothing solid left to hold it up, fell to the crypt floor. The tomb spider scuttled backward and crouched low, wary. Its prey had vanished and its tiny spider mind was attempting to grasp what had happened and whether or not this strange development constituted a new threat.
Makala willed her mist-form to float upward and over the tomb spider, and then she transformed back into her humanoid shape. Makala dropped onto the tomb spider's back and, marshalling all her vampire's strength, she rammed her hands through the creature's body. There was a loud crunching sound as Makala penetrated the spider's outer shell, and then her hands were covered with thick warm fluid. Makala grasped hold of the slippery soft organs inside and pulled.
The tomb spider reared back in agony, front legs waving wildly in the air. Makala was thrown backward off the spider, the guts she held onto trailing out of the creature's back like streamers of bloody meat. She released the organs, transformed into a bat in midair, and swooped up toward the crypt's ceiling. Using a combination of both her bat and vampire senses, Makala was able to form a clear mental image of the battle occurring below.
She "saw" the tomb spider start to come back down on its forelegs. As it did, Haaken pulled free from the web mummy that held him and threw himself beneath one of the spider's legs. The claw on the leg's tip tore through the webbing wrapped about the wereshark's chest, in the process slicing a long wound down Haaken's chest and abdomen. But that didn't matter. Haaken would heal swiftly-and far more importantly, he was free.
Makala was impressed. She hadn't thought Haaken that intelligent.
Haaken let out an elated battle-roar and grabbed hold of the tomb spider's two front forelegs. The giant arachnid brought her mouth parts down in an attempt to sink her fangs into Haaken's broad shark-like head. But before she could strike, Haaken ripped the forelegs legs out of her body, and the tomb spider squealed in pain. She scuttled backward, gore spilling from the gaping wounds were her legs had been attached to her body, but Haaken had scented the blood of his prey, and the wereshark wasn't about to let the tomb spider escape. He leaped forward, claws outstretched, tooth-filled maw open wide, and as he landed atop the spider, he clamped his jaws down upon the spider's eyes and bit down with all his might. The tomb spider's shell cracked open like that of a steamed crab beneath the pressure of the wereshark's jaws and gore sprayed over Haaken. The tomb spider whipped about from side to side in a desperate attempt to dislodge her attacker, but Haaken held on tight with his clawed hands, biting, tearing, and rending.
Finally, the spider's body slumped to the floor of the crypt and its remaining legs curled inward, twitching feebly as the creature surrendered to death. Haaken, his shark's snout smeared with blood and viscera, continued ravaging the tomb spider's corpse, gulping down great mouthfuls of the thing's innards with mindless efficiency.
Leontis stood by, only half-listening while Diran explained his plan to the psiforged and the artificer. The priest watched with increasing frustration as the battle took place around him and, far worse, without him. He was Sir Leontis of the Order of Templars, and it wasn't in his nature to stand idly by while others risked their lives in the struggle against evil. He understood why Diran had asked him to stay back, though. If Nathifa was a powerful enough lich, it was possible that both priests would be needed to stop her, but Leontis knew another reason-perhaps the most important one-was that Diran didn't want to risk having Leontis lose control of his lupine side again so soon after what had happened in the forest when they'd fought the shadowclaws. The werewolf had helped the others against those monsters then, but what guarantee was there that the beast wouldn't turn on Leontis's companions this time? None at all.
Leontis recognized the logic in Diran's strategy and even agreed with it, but it still chafed. Diran had played upon their friendship to convince Leontis to come along on this quest, all for the sake of some dubious visions revealed by a demon desperate to make a deal to prevent being cast out of its young host body. Leontis had allowed himself to be convinced, telling himself that perhaps he could do one last bit of good before leaving this mortal plane and joining with the Silver Flame. But he'd contributed little to the group's efforts so far. He'd stopped a Fury-crazed Ghaji from slaying Diran, and he'd killed the flying creature that had been about to attack them as their longboat had approached the island, and that was all. The werewolf had done far more, killing numerous shadowclaws before being caught in the fireblast. It seemed that for all his vaunted training and priestly abilities, Leontis was of less use than the wild animal that shared his soul.
Why should he keep fighting the wolf inside him, then? Perhaps there was a reason he had been infected with the curse of lycanthropy. Perhaps it wasn't a curse, at least not in his case. Perhaps it was, instead, a weapon that he was meant to wield in his order's battle against evil. Evil against evil, fire against fire…
He shook his head. That was the werewolf talking, not the man. The beast would do anything to be free again, even attempt to persuade Leontis to believe that evil could be used as a tool for good when wielded by one of the Purified. But that was the sort of thinking that led to abuses of power. The ends did not justify the means, no matter what. The teachings of the priesthood were absolutely clear on this, and so Leontis vowed to continue fighting to keep the werewolf caged inside him.
But then he heard an animalistic roar, and the sound sent a strange fire surging up his spine and into his brain. Leontis trained his gaze upon a creature that appeared to be half-human and half-shark. In the confusion, Leontis hadn't taken much notice of the creature, but he knew instinctively that it was a fellow lycanthrope. The wereshark attacked the tomb spider, leaping upon the arachnid and biting huge hunks out of her.
Leontis felt the fire in his mind build into a raging inferno at the sight of the wereshark glutting itself on the spider's internal organs, and when the wolf came to the fore, there was nothing he could do to stop the beast from taking possession of his body. And as he felt his persona giving way to the werewolf's savagery, he was horrified to realize that not only did he like it, he welcomed it.