Windwalker - Elaine Cunningham [54]
The spider's beaked mouth stabbed down. Fyodor thrust his sword between the two mouthparts and twisted himself to one side. The spider flipped onto its furred back. Eight furious legs beat the air as it tried to right itself.
The Rashemi leaped to his feet and leaned in, sword leading. One of the spider's legs curled around the weapon while another encircled Fyodor's wrist. A single powerful tug tore the weapon from his hand and sent it spinning away.
A silvery streak dived toward the spider, and one of Liriel's knives buried itself up to the jeweled hilt. The creature hissed but continued the struggle to regain its footing. The missile had missed a vital spot.
Liriel bit her lip. She was far from being a master of dark elf swordplay, but her aim with thrown weapons was as good as that of any drow she knew. She hadn't missed a target since before her blooding ceremony!
She was not certain which troubled her more: the knowledge of this failure or her suspicion that she hadn't really missed at all.
Fyodor made good use of the weapon she gave him. Gripping the dagger with both hands, he pulled it savagely across the furred body. The flailing limbs stilled, and the rounded body deflated like a broken wineskin. Hundreds of tiny spiders skittered away from the corpse, infants freed by their mother's death.
The warrior rose and wiped his face. He looked to toward Liriel. To her surprise, there was no accusation in his face, no sense of betrayal.
"In my land, there are many troublesome and mischievous creatures," he said softly. "The Rashemi might well be better without them, but not one among us would lift a sword to them. It is not our way."
For a moment she gazed down at him, moved beyond speech. She had seen many marvels since leaving her homeland but none so wondrous as this man's ability to see into her heart. Shortly after they'd met, he'd given her a priceless jewel, an ancient spider trapped in amber. Though he'd assured her that such things were common in his land and not at all costly, Liriel knew that her pendant would be the envy of every priestess in Menzoberranzan. How could he know this? How could he understand things he had never seen?
The drow nodded her thanks and floated down to his side. She glanced down the tunnel ahead, and her golden eyes widened. "I've never killed a spider, but I might not have a choice," she murmured. "Look."
She snapped her fingers, and a small globe of blue light appeared. A gesture of one hand sent the magical thing floating down the stone corridor.
Thousands of delicate strands glowed in the azure light. Fyodor caught his breath and let it out on a Rashemaar oath.
Layers upon layers of webs blocked the tunnels. In them lurked the infant spiders, already the size of ravens and growing fast.
Liriel squeezed her eyes shut for a moment. She drew her sword with one hand and conjured a firebolt in the other.
Fyodor caught her wrist before she could hurl the flaming weapon. "Look at the webs. See how they glisten?"
She considered his words. Spider webs, even natural ones, were incredibly strong and resilient. These were no natural spiders, and no doubt the webs were preternaturally strong. A fire large enough to destroy their new-spun webs would most likely suck the air from the tunnel.
A smaller fire spell might do some damage, but the lethal babies were fleet of foot. Most of them would scamper away from the small blaze and bide their time. Liriel glanced at Fyodor and weighed their chances against the hundreds of lurking monsters.
A small, grim smile curved her lips as a solution presented itself. "Climb up on that boulder," she told Fyodor, nodding toward a pile of rocks that rose well above the damp floor. "Whatever comes, don't touch the wall."
She slammed her sword back into its sheath and let the fire-bolt fall to the floor. It sizzled out in a scum-covered puddle, unheeded by the drow who had summoned it.
Again Liriel summoned her levitation magic. Floating, she