" Is she so perverted?" asked Melira in what she considered a seductive voice. " Our cult allows free choice during each rejoicing. There are no permanent bonds. You are too attractive to merely sit on the sidelines and not take part."
" My vow is sacred. To me, to Inyx, to the earth."
Both Melira and Ehznoll sighed.
" So be it. A vow to the earth takes precedence."
It was Lan' s turn to sigh- with relief. The pair turned and rejoined the tiny band of pilgrims, already stripping and kneeling to throw dirt on one another before they started serious praying.
" Let' s get out of here. I don' t want to even be around when they start-" The man stopped and stared at his friend. Krek stood rigidly, claws buried in the hard flint rocks. His eyes had glazed over, and rigor mortis might have set in for all the animation he showed. " What' s the matter?"
" Big," came Krek' s tiny voice. " Never seen- felt- anything like it. Huge!"
The way the spider inflected the words caused Lan to whip out his sword and peer about. He personally sensed no magics; that left Krek' s vibration detection. Whatever so paralyzed the spider had to be dangerous.
" Is it the grey- clad soldiers? Has Kiska gotten loose and brought a company down on us?"
" No. Only one. But enormous!"
" Krek, tell me what it is. I: by the demons of the Lower Places!" Lan gasped and took an involuntary step backward. He craned his neck up- up- up- and saw only pincers emerging over a rock. Each pincer spanned almost four feet. His mare reared and kicked out futilely. Lan made no effort to calm her. In this battle the slightest inattention meant death.
More of the monster emerged. Lan irrationally thought back to the bog world where he' d saved Krek from wolves. He' d thought the eightfoot- tall spider to be a monster. The limpid dun- colored eyes, sometimes soft and forlorn, softened the image. Krek' s personality also took away from the idea of the spider being a monster.
The monster crawling over the rock to tower over them took away his breath. The scorpion- creature topped Krek' s eight feet by a sizable margin. Perhaps by as much as Lan' s height. The hard- shelled torso looked strong enough to fend off anything short of a battering ram. A tiny head perched on the abdomen, eyes of only hatred peering forth.
" The stinger, watch out for the stinger," cried Krek.
The long tail arced over the scorpion' s body, down past the head, and caught the mare squarely on the back. A loud snapping noise, the horse' s hysterical neighs, then the sound of blood spilling forth. Death had come quickly for the animal.
" How do we fight it?" gasped Lan. He looked at his fine steel sword. It might as well have been a toothpick against this beast.
Krek hopped away, bobbing and spinning a web. The spider fought his own battle. Seeing that Krek worked at a hunting web, Lan ducked and waved his sword high over his head in an attempt to distract the scorpion. If he won enough time for the spider to finish his sticky strands, they had a chance. Krek had once told him he' d caught and held a bear in those strands.
" Hey, hey, hey!" he called, jumping about as if he' d become quite insane. " This way." The scorpion' s head followed his movement, but the body didn' t stir. It needed a steady base for the proper use of the deadly stinger. Lan saw it coming. Reflexes saved his life. He parried with his sword at the last possible instant. Sparks leaped from his blade as the tail slid away harmlessly. But the impact had been so severe Lan' s entire arm went numb with shock.
He backpedalled quickly to stay out of the range of a second stinger attack.
" What' s wrong with you?" Lan demanded of Ehznoll. " Fight this damn thing. It' ll kill us all!"
" It is a creature of the earth. We will pray for it."
" It' ll kill you!"
" Our prayers to the godhead of earth will be answered. The planet will not allow us to die, not on this day of rejoicing, not under the awfulness of the empty sky. We are devout pilgrims; we will not be sacrificed in this manner."
Ehznoll and the others commenced praying. Lan stood in stunned silence and, one by one, they dropped to one knee, crossed wrists over their breasts, and began singing. The whine of a scorpion' s tail slashing through the air made him leap without even looking. He hit the ground hard, rolled into flint, felt tiny cuts opening all over his still- paralyzed arm. In a way, the injuries aided him. Feelingpain- came back to him more rapidly.
" Krek, hurry it up. This thing' s starting to look hungry."
He stared up at the monster, the stinger poised directly over its head. A single drop of green fluid beaded there. Lan didn' t have to be told this poison could immobilize any living creature. Scorpions of much smaller size paralyzed with the poison, then stored their meal away for future use.
As the stinger lashed downward again, a single wrist- thick strand of web- stuff rose to meet it. The sticky material clung but didn' t hold back the tail. Krek continued to bind the scorpion, one strand at a time, until a dozen thick cords partially contained it, holding it down on the rock. The enraged scorpion let out a bellow more appropriate to a mountain lion and shook itself all over.
Webs popped as if the spider had used only common twine. Still, Krek didn' t give up. More of his hunting web arched up to entangle the monster. It became a battle of technique. The scorpion was powerful enough to break all the bands- in time. Krek fought to put more on than the creature could burst at any given instant.
Lan watched in helpless fury. His friend fought the battle; he was little better than Ehznoll and his pilgrims. Still, even with feeling returned in his sword arm, what could he do? The most vital portions of the scorpion' s anatomy lay a full yard above his furthest reach. Even if he' d dared, he didn' t think a single sword capable of penetrating that exoskeleton.
" How long will he stay bound?" he called out to the spider.
" He breaks loose even as I spin the webs. Fleeing is out of the question. He moves too quickly to outrun."
" Keep him pinned down, Krek. I' ve got an idea."
The spider didn' t answer; his full attention lay in combatting the scorpion. Lan Martak raced for the edge of the ravine, clambered up the side, then began the arduous climb up the rock face of the cliff overlooking the area. Each finger grip seemed incapable of holding his weight. Rock broke loose and tumbled downward. His knees skinned and hands bloody, Lan fought to climb the sheer rock face. Once he turned and glanced at the scene below. He was easily thirty feet up now; the scorpion dwarfed all below. Krek appeared a toy in comparison and the band of praying pilgrims even smaller.
For an instant, Lan debated dropping from his vantage point, getting onto the creature' s back, and trying to find a soft spot in the thick armor. Between head and abdomen gave the best chance of stopping the scorpion. Then he saw the stinger arc over, aiming for the spider. Krek danced away- barely.
Lan Martak knew it was impossible to attack the scorpion by straddling its back. That tail would slice him in two. He kept climbing.
What seemed years later, he pulled himself onto the top of the cliff, bruised, bloodied, and out of the breath. Again he looked down, from more than forty feet up this time. Krek' s hunting web gleamed in the sunlight. The scorpion' s hard shell looked like burnished brass. And, over the sounds of the battling arachnids, came the steady, doleful chanting from Ehznoll' s people. Less than twenty feet from the titanic battle, they continued to pray.
Lan intended to do more than pray.
He used his sword. Thrusting it between two large boulders, he levered and bent his back. Hands slipping from the blood, muscles aching from exertion, lungs burning, sweat running into eyes and mouth, he pulled. Nothing happened at first, then he heard a deepthroated creaking.