“Will you take us there?” Anakin asked again.
“I will lead you to the beginning of the deepest tunnel,” Sannah finally replied. “But I will not journey to its base. To do so means certain death. I am willing to risk my life for both of you,” San - nah said, looking from Anakin to Tahiri. “But facing the purella is not risking life, it is embracing death.”
Anakin and Tahiri rose to their feet and walked to the water’s edge. It was time to say good-bye to Lyric. They were determined to unravel the riddle that had held the Massassi children prisoner for thousands of years.
“You are leaving now,” Lyric said sadly as she floated on the surface of the water. “I know that you must return to the academy, but I don’t want you to leave.”
“Lyric, we’ll miss you,” Tahiri said softly.
“You are the two best friends I’ve ever had,” Lyric said in a voice like dropping tears. “I won’t forget you, and I’ll help to teach the Melodie children all that I learned at the academy. Perhaps someday you’ll come back to visit me?”
“I hope so,” Anakin said. He didn’t mention that there was a chance he and Tahiri might never leave Lyric’s mountain. A chance that they would be devoured by an enormous, red-bristled spider. “Good-bye, Lyric. May the Force be with you,” Anakin said.
“And both of you,” Lyric replied. Large salty tears dropped from her eyes and plinked sadly down. Then she dove beneath the surface of the crystal blue waters. The last Anakin and Tahiri saw of their friend was a flash of her glistening pink tail fin.
She was beside herself with hunger and rage. Her underbelly yawned and screamed for the sweet taste of a Melodie. She’d been so close. They hadn’t even seen her clinging to the top of the rocks overhead as they’d raced through the passageway with the changelings toward the crystal waters. She’d been ready to drop, to gouge the sharp pincers that lined her mouth into tender flesh. Then she would have flushed her prey with enough poison to immobilize, but not to kill. She liked her food alive. The agonizing scream of a raith as one of the Melodies ran the creature through with a spear broke her pleasant anticipation. She crept along the passageway to drink in the scene with glowing eyes. She’d never seen a Melodie kill so easily. And she’d experienced something she’d never felt before. Fear. She didn’t like it. Didn’t like it at all.
Her pincers clicked frantically as she remembered how she’d skittered back through the passageways, away from her prey, to the safety of the tunnel where she dwelled. The purella picked her way across her thick black web. The web she’d spun to ensnare a Melodie. Caught in its center was a small raith. She’d come across the black rodent in one of the middle tunnels, and dropped on it in hunger and frustration. Her pincers had plunged deep into the tender skin of its neck, filling the raith with enough venom to paralyze it so she could drag it back to her web by its thick green tail.
When the venom had worn off, the raith had struggled in the thick stickiness of the purella’s web. But the more it had writhed, the more the web had bound its body. Now it could only move its hard, black eyes. They rolled from side to side. She could taste the raith’s terror, just as she would soon taste its meat. The purella slowly moved toward the rodent, her eight legs picking through the web with care. She, too, could be caught if she allowed her bristly backside to touch its gummy strands. But that never happened. She moved with an eerie grace, never losing her balance. There was no need to rush once her prey was ensnared. There was no escape from a purella’s web.
She felt a slight tremor in the web, and fixed her eyes on the raith. He hadn’t moved. Couldn’t move. Another tremor, dancing along the strand on tiptoes. The purella skittered back to the edge of her web. A web that not only trapped her prey, but served as a perfectly tuned alarm system that picked up every movement and vibration. Something was traveling in the lower tunnel. The purella usually had to hunt for her prey in the mid-passages of Sistra, but once in a while a raith or reel would come down to the lower tunnel. When that happened, she was always ready. Orange eyes narrowed as she glanced at the ensnared raith.
Her belly ached, but it would have to wait. When she returned, she hoped, she’d have more food. That would be good, because she was hungry. Very hungry.
She slid her body through the crevice that led to her den. Hopping to the rocks, she began to move up the tunnel. A small stone was dislodged from above, and nervously she sprang onto the side wall of the passageway. She flattened her body against the rocks, a two-meter blot of red against the dark purple of the stones. Any creature looking would see her, but in her experience, her prey didn’t pay attention to what they couldn’t hear.