One of the soldiers heard the sound, and turned and screamed and drew his sword and quickly the others did likewise. They advanced towards it, a tight line. Then three of them stood still, while one edged forward. The spider spat silk in his face and, as he drew his hands upwards, it spewed its quietus, knocking him askew with one leg. Six legs spread wide, it leapt forward over the other men and shoved them onto the ground with their weapons collapsing around them. Like a leaking wound, the spider oozed silk onto their pain-stricken faces, till soon their desperate movements diminished to a helpless twitching. Then nothing.
So simple, so quick.
It gathered up the first victim, then lined them all up, and for a moment it did nothing but simply watch them, and sense for any reactions.
There were none.
As it was seeing to their transportation, by hauling the bodies around the corner, another figure in similar uniform came by. Savagely it lashed out at the newcomer with its jaws, ripping his torso down the middle. Blood surged across the cobbles as it nudged the corpse behind some piles of waste food.
The spider lugged the bodies one by one up to the roof, then considered the problem of carrying this extra weight. It spent a while spinning more balloons, then bound them together, like giant frogspawn.
Deep night drew across Villiren. Clouds gathered momentum, overpowering starlight. The sound of the tide lapping the harbour walls and up against Port Nostalgia. Gentle sparks of snow drifted down, bringing with them a strange sense of calm.
And as the spider ascended, it sensed that in one of the side streets below, some hybrid human wrapped in black was coughing and retching into a gutter, a silent scream on his lips. But it did not have the time to ascertain what it might be.
*
Brynd kicked the sword away and sent it skittering across the cobbles past Nelum's feet. His lieutenant looked up startled, but at the moment Brynd didn't care. A distance had grown between them anyway, a barrier caused by red-hot secrets and speculations.
Right now, Brynd's concern was for what was happening out on the streets of Villiren. Already his day was ruined. Dawn was some minutes away, the horizon barely any lighter than the cityscape, and here he was, witnessing a scene where yet more soldiers had vanished. Those swords lying on the ground were imperial blades all right, the runework was there for all to see.
The man who had summoned them was a rubicund, elderly type, clothed in thick layers of ragged cloth, with a manic look in his eyes as if he was possessed.
'Just here, right here, yes,' the man muttered, rubbing his hands over and over again. 'I's asleep at first, in the refuse – nice and warm it is there – and then when I hear screams and such, and afterwards I get up and… like I said, at the end I wanted to be getting away from that one over there.' His outstretched hand was directed towards a slender man standing hunched against the wall, his collar turned up, emitting tendrils of smoke from a roll-up, and there was something distinctly civilized about his appearance.
'He responsible?' Brynd asked.
'Ha! Not him, like, but he can vouch for me.'
Brynd glanced at Nelum and they both stepped over to the stranger.
'You have a name?' Brynd demanded.
Dressed entirely in black and with traces of musk about him, the man regarded Brynd with an almost alien detachment. Although vaguely familiar, his pale face looked distinctly unhealthy, and there was something febrile about his mannerisms.
'Dannan,' he replied.
Suddenly the name rang a bell, and Brynd relaxed. 'You're the leader of a gang, aren't you? I didn't recognize you out here, my apologies. Could you tell me what the hell happened here?'
'Spider,' Dannan announced, then went on to describe the creature in terse whispers. This was a different man from the coxcomb gang leader he had seen across a table. Illness seemed to plague him now. 'Twice as tall as a man at least.'
Brynd could hardly believe what he was hearing. 'Why were you here – some gang business?'
'I was merely enjoying the night. Felt that something was going to happen, is all. Happens to me sometimes.'
'And you, what, just came here to watch this performance? I don't understand why.'
With a disturbing smile, the man nodded. 'I can always sense death, but can do nothing about it.' And he gestured with a wave of his hand towards the corner where he had vomited.
The old man edged into the conversation, though hunching fearfully away from Dannan. 'BanHe, this one – likes death, so the word on the street goes. You have your witch women in Villjamur, doncha? Well this is a male one.'
Brynd was used to the eccentricities on the streets of Villjamur, but back in his home city it was easy to comprehend which were merely wild stories.
Out here, he didn't know what to believe.
*
Eventually the rumel investigator arrived, his hat tipped aslant across his eyes. He was clutching a pastry and, with his mouth half-full he mumbled, 'I got your damn message. You realize what time it is?'
'Four more,' Brynd announced. That message had been sent ages ago, and yet the investigator had stopped off at a bakery to fill his gut even more. 'Four soldiers gone tonight, and these two men here are actual witnesses.'
Information was exchanged between them until Jeryd was fully briefed. He then examined the scene, noted the remnants of a giant trilobite, the discarded swords, the precise location. Now and then he'd nod as if what he was seeing confirmed some hunch. At one point he took a blade from his boot, and scraped some residue off the cobbles. As he returned he grumbled, 'Spider, eh?' The rumel suddenly seemed on edge.
'That's what they claim,' Brynd admitted. 'But I'm doubtful something of such a size could remain concealed in a city as populous as this. Someone would be bound to spot something sooner or later.'
'Don't be so sure. You can stay hidden very easily, when you don't want to be seen.' Jeryd held out his blade from which drooped strands of some substance.
Brynd was astounded. 'Looks consistent with what these witnesses have claimed.'
'Doesn't it just,' Jeryd observed. 'And, yeah, I've seen this before, smeared across various rooftops. I was wondering what could produce such a substance, and now with two witnesses claiming to have seen a giant… arachnid-'
'Bigger than giant, like!' the old man protested. 'Monstrous!'
'I'll fucking second that,' the so-called banHe cooed. There was an androgynous air to the way he inhaled his roll-up.
'Well, issues of scale aside,' Jeryd continued nervously, 'we have at least got ourselves something to go on.'
'Please share that with us, investigator,' Brynd encouraged him sarcastically.
'It isn't an exact science, this job.' Jeryd wiped his brow. 'Some days you find yourself just chasing your tail – if you have one, that is – and you end up getting nowhere. This might easily be one of those days. But I've seen this substance more than once and I'll tell you this: it's nothing natural. If these guys say you got a… giant spider picking people off, I'm inclined to believe them.' A pause as he screwed up his face. 'Even this banHe guy – met a lot of his female kin in Villjamur. Good sorts, when you dust away the weirdness, so you can rely on what he says.'
'Oh, I'm sooo fucking thankful,' piped the banHe, reminding Brynd fondly of Kym, a man he knew in Villjamur.
'What do you suggest,' Nelum added, 'in terms of making progress? I have to say, it is rather a shame this spider thing isn't our ally. I once read of how silk was used for treating battle wounds, in the past. It doesn't cause any allergic reactions, being quite inert.'
'Tell you one thing,' Jeryd said, 'if any soldier lived long enough to set eyes on whatever the hell produced this' – he indicated the excessive gossamer strands – 'then he'd probably be damn well frightened to death on the spot. I know I would…'
