Eye of the Wizard: A Fantasy Adventure (13 page)

Her nose leading her, Cobweb found a blackberry tree, clover growing between its roots, its trunk as twisted as her tongue. She climbed its branches, heart heavy, and began to pick berries into her pouch. Only Scruff, she thought, never raised an eyebrow when she spoke. He always listened attentively, as if she were the world's greatest orator. He made Cobweb feel smart and respected. He was her best friend here in this strange human world.
He's like me,
Cobweb thought. Whenever people looked at him, they saw a shaggy beast, a brute as dumb as an ox. Certainly his siblings treated him that way. But Cobweb could see past that. She knew that Scruff, like her, could be smart and thoughtful, if only people cared to look deeper. Suddenly Cobweb wanted to hug him. She promised herself she'd do so once she returned to the camp.

"I'm g-going to weawn to s-say his n-n-name," Cobweb vowed. More than anything, she wished she could say his name right. Whenever she spoke it, it sounded funny, like a baby speaking. "Scwuff."

One day I'm going to run up to him, say his name right, and make him smile.
Cobweb nodded. "One of dese d-days."

She climbed down the tree, her pouch full of blackberries. Her fingers were stained deep purple, and she licked them.
Yum.

Suddenly she heard a delicate song, and she froze, fingers in her mouth.

Who was singing? Cobweb couldn't see anybody. She saw oaks and birches rustling, mushrooms growing between fallen leaves, and cyclamens blooming around mossy boulders... but no people. And yet the song continued, a lilt that wafted like a flute song.

"Hewwo?" Cobweb said. She drew her stone dagger and held it before her, its spider runes glowing. She might be arrowless, but if need be, she could kill with this dagger, too. And yet... this song did not sound evil. She couldn't imagine a moldman singing such a beautiful tune. It sounded, if anything, like the song of a spiderling.

Cobweb walked through the forest, dagger in hand, following the song. It had no words, only a hum like a stream, and Cobweb became certain it was a spiderling song. Human tunes were simple, structured, catchy; this song flowed like wine from a jug, glittering and intoxicating. What spiderling dwelt here, so far from Spidersilk Forest?

The song led her to a bubbly stream lined with rushes, oaks and birches growing alongside it. The song was loud now. Fallow deer drank from the water, raising their eyes to watch Cobweb, but still she could see nobody singing.

"Is a-anyone dewe?" she asked.

The song died, and a voice spoke. "Come forward, spiderling of the wild. Cross the stream. Enter our realm."

Cobweb bit her lip. This was a spiderling speaking. Only spiderlings had voices as pure as diamonds—at least, all spiderlings other than her. Was this a ghost spiderling speaking? Cobweb could still see nobody.

Clutching her dagger, Cobweb stepped into the stream. The water rose to her knees, tickling her. She waded toward the opposite bank and stepped back onto earth, flowers caressing her bare feet.

"Welcome, Cobweb," said the voice.

Cobweb narrowed her eyes, and finally she saw the spiderling. She stood by an almond tree, her dress woven of cobwebs, a golden spider pendant resting upon her breast. Spiderlings were born mauve, turned lavender in youth, and ripened into deep purple as adults.
This
spiderling was indigo, the color of an elder, maybe centuries old; few spiderlings reached this age. Her face was unlined, and her hair seemed woven of starlight. Her eyes were glowing blue, the largest eyes Cobweb had ever seen.

She's beautiful,
Cobweb thought. But she was not flawless. A tear-shaped birthmark lay beneath her left eye. Cobweb had never seen this spiderling, but she knew all about her. Everyone did.

"Tangweweb," she whispered.

The ancient, banished spiderling smiled, teeth large and white. "Hello, Cobweb."

All spiderlings grew up hearing stories of Tangleweb, the spiderling banished a century ago because of her birthmark. The birthmark, shaped like a tear, prophesied her life of sadness. "Be perfect," spiderlings would encourage their children, "or you'll be banished like Tangleweb and humans will eat you." Cobweb shook her head, scarcely believing that this legendary outcast stood before her.

"D-dey towd us dat da humans a-ate you," Cobweb said, placing her dagger back into her belt.

Tangleweb smiled. "I assume you've discovered by now, child, that humans don't eat spiderlings. Many would, however, cage us for our beauty, enslave us, parade us as trophies or circus attractions. Spiderlings are right to fear humans, my child. But you need not fear me."

Cobweb took a step toward her, and it was like seeing a future vision of herself.
Will I be like this in a hundred years, an elder with indigo skin, saucer eyes, ethereal white hair? Will I live like her, wandering the forests?

"B-but humans awe n-n-nice," she said. "D-dey awe my fwiends—"

"A flawed spiderling has no friends," Tangleweb interrupted her, eyes glittering. Her silken hair flowed in the breeze, flowers blooming between its strands. "We are your only friends, we banished spiderlings. We are your family, Cobweb, the only ones who understand you, who will care for you."

"How d-do you know my n-name?" she asked, wondering if Tangleweb was right. Were humans truly cruel? Did Tangleweb understand her? Cobweb had never met another spiderling like this, like her, impure.

Tangleweb touched Cobweb's hand. "I know all banished spiderlings, child. Many follow me. I collect them from across the world. I lead them here in these woods, a sanctuary for us poor, flawed, banished beings. Come with me, Cobweb. I will show you our home."

Cobweb hesitated, torn. For the first time, she had met a creature like her, a flawed spiderling. And there were others, many others! One part of Cobweb ached to go with Tangleweb, to see this sanctuary. And yet....

"My fwiends are w-waiting fow me," she said. "I have to g-g-go."

Tangleweb took her hand, and her grasp was strong, not strong enough to hurt Cobweb, but almost. "Don't you want to take a quick look?" the elder spiderling asked. "All your life, Cobweb, you lived judged, a monster in the eyes of fellow spiderlings. But you're not a monster." Tangleweb's huge eyes glittered, endless stars floating inside them. "I know how you lived, how you ached, how still you hurt. We all do, I and the other flawed spiderlings, my followers. Come to us, to our sanctuary of banished spiderlings, to your true home."

Cobweb pursed her lips. Maybe it was the clutching, cold grasp of Tangleweb's hand. Maybe it was the intent, blue look in her eyes. Whatever it was, Cobweb suddenly wanted to flee... but Tangleweb's grasp would not let go.

"I g-guess I can t-t-take a quick wook," she said.
I'll go see this spiderling sanctuary, then run back to my friends, to the Bullies, to Scruff. If I don't see these spiderlings now, maybe I'll never meet them again.
A tear crept to her eye. After all, here were her true kin, the people who could truly understand her. She needed to see them, if only for a moment.

Holding Cobweb's hand, Tangleweb led her through the forest. They walked between pines, their boughs curved and lumpy, their needles sticky with sap. The forest seemed unnaturally silent. No birds chirped, no squirrels raced across the branches, no ants scuttled across the ground. The air felt cold, glistening with pollen and sun beams. Spiderwebs hung between the trees, glinting.

They walked for a long time; how long, Cobweb did not know, for time seemed to flow strangely in this forest. The pollen swirled around her, glittering in the sunbeams, and Cobweb felt her head spin. She wanted to curl up and sleep, or run through grass and laugh, or spread wings and fly. She felt drunk on the forest's moist, leafy air.

A glitter ahead caught her eyes, and Cobweb frowned. She looked carefully, but saw nothing. Then something sparkled somewhere else in the forest, and before she knew it, everything around her glittered.

"Gems," she whispered.

Tangleweb smiled a small, strange smile, her eyes glittering like the forest. "Gems," she agreed.

Countless gemstones glistened in the trees, growing like fruit. One tree glittered with sapphires. Another sprouted emeralds between its leaves. A third tree's branches hung heavy with clusters of rubies like grapes. All around Cobweb, the forest sparkled.

"This is our home," Tangleweb said, voice soft. "We live in these trees."

When her eyes adjusted to the glitter, Cobweb noticed that scaffolding covered the trees, rising from the ground to the highest boughs, each slat of wood bound with rope. Above in the canopy, rope bridges led from tree to tree, branch to branch. It was a hodgepodge city in the trees, as if some giant, mechanical spider had spun a web of wood and rope. Between the branches and gems high above, Cobweb glimpsed spiderlings scuttling about the rope bridges and ladders.

"It b-beautifuw," Cobweb said.

"And worth a fortune," Tangleweb said, nodding.

Fortune? Oh. Money.
Cobweb had only recently learned of money, a human invention. In Spidersilk Forest, spiderlings knew no such concept; they shared everything. To spiderlings, the world belonged to everyone; how could one own something, sell it for a piece of metal or stone?
Tangleweb should know better,
Cobweb thought.

Four spiderlings came walking forward, dressed in dusty gray robes, their feet bare and silent upon the forest floor. Their faces were dirty, their smiles strange. The four looked exactly alike, skin pale purple, eyes sunken. Cobweb could not tell them apart. They looked like ghosts, their lips blood red.

"Hello, friend," the four spoke to her in unison, eyes unblinking. "Will you join our sanctuary?"

Tangleweb touched Cobweb's hand. "We are happy here. You belong with us."

Cobweb opened her mouth to speak, then noticed that one spiderling was missing an eye. Another was missing two fingers. The third spiderling had a scar along her face, while the fourth was missing an entire arm.

Cobweb's breath died, and she stared wordlessly. These weren't birth defects. These were injuries. Somebody had hurt these spiderlings... deformed them to drive them out of Spidersilk Forest... to bring them here.

"I-I have t-to get g-going," Cobweb said.

Tangleweb held her hand—tightly. Painfully. "Don't you want to be happy with us, to frolic with us among the trees?"

Cobweb looked up to those trees. For the first time, she noticed that the spiderlings above were bound. Ropes were tied around their necks, connecting the workers in chain gangs. The spiderlings were moving along the rope bridges, eyes dead, collecting gems into baskets.

"Y-you did dis!" Cobweb said, eyes widening, taking a step back. "Y-you cowwected dese spidewwings. You h-huwt dem, defowmed dem, so dey'd wowk fow you." Her heart hammered and she panted.

Tangleweb sighed. "Honestly, sweetie, I can't understand a word you say. No matter. So long as you're good at picking treegems."

With that, the spiderlings leaped onto Cobweb, indigo eyes sucking in all light.

Cobweb tried to run, tried to scream, but had no time. One spiderling punched her head, and white light exploded. She felt herself hit the ground, pain bursting.

For a moment she blinked, dizzy, seeing only fuzzy shadows.
Am I unconscious? Am I dreaming?
She could not tell; her mind was too muzzy. When she came to, a rope was tied around her neck, and she was being hoisted up into the trees.

"Let me g-go," she mumbled, unable to talk any louder, her eyes blurry.

Hands grabbed her and pulled her to her feet, then splashed water onto her face. She blinked, her eyes finally clearing. She stood high in the boughs, her feet upon a rope bridge, gems glinting around her. Everything hurt, especially her head, and the rope chaffed her neck. When she peeked down, she saw the ground dozens of feet below, so distant her head swirled.

"Here you go, sweetheart," spoke a voice.

"W-wha—" she mumbled, blinking. At least twenty spiderlings stood before her, ropes around their necks.
They have us in a chain gang,
she realized. "Tangweweb?" she said, tears in her eyes.

The elder spiderling stood by her upon a branch, one fist on her hip. "Yes, darling, I am here." She shoved a basket into Cobweb's hands. "I hit you a little too hard, I think, but things will make sense soon. For now, it's time for you to pick gems."

With that, Tangleweb smiled and leaped onto a rope ladder, soon disappearing behind leaves and branches.

The spiderlings before her, all tied to one another with ropes around their necks, started walking along the rope bridge. Cobweb, the last spiderling in the chain gang, was pulled along. She had no choice but to walk with them; otherwise the rope would choke her.

I'll have to fight my way out of this,
Cobweb thought, reaching for her dagger. But the weapon was gone.
Tangleweb must have snatched it after punching me.
Cobweb felt like crying, screaming, or both. How had she gotten herself into this mess?

"Pick gems," spoke the spiderling before her, her hair long and glowing white. She turned to face Cobweb, revealing a scar that rifted her purple face. "Pick gems for Tangleweb."

The spiderlings all began picking gems into their baskets, branch by branch. All around Cobweb, she saw similar chain gangs, all moving between branches, cleaning out the trees. Cobweb tightened her lips. She would have expected tears to fill her eyes, but instead, she found only anger inside her. How could Tangleweb do this? How could these spiderlings follow her? Rarely given to violence, Cobweb now felt like throttling somebody.

"Why d-do you do dis?" she asked the spiderling before her, fists clenched.

The scarred spiderling was picking sapphires into a basket, her fingers chaffed. She spoke, not turning around to look at Cobweb. "We love our leader. She loves us. We'll do anything for our leader. Pick gems, spiderling. Pick gems for the leader who loves you."

The spiderlings took another step forward, moving in unison like mechanical soldiers. The rope yanked Cobweb's neck, and she had no choice but to step forward with the rest. She shook her head wildly, gasping. "Da weadew? You mean T-t-tangweweb? She d-doesn't wove us! She's e-enswaved us."