Pathfinder's Way(55)

Nothing on the ground seemed amiss. There were no sounds she would  classify as overtly threatening either. No beast screams or growls or  soft, nearly silent movements in the dark.

So what was it? Why did she feel like she was missing something?

A thin almost barely perceptible glint of moonlight caught her  attention, and she looked up, noticing the fine, nearly invisible  threads spanning from one canyon wall to the next. She looked down,  suddenly able to see the anchors in the rocks and the bushes that seemed  to be bound in a filmy white.

"Spinners," she hissed.

Eamon curse was soft but heartfelt as he looked around seeing what she did now that he knew it was there.

Spinners were giant insects with broad flat heads that contained four  eyes and fang filled mouths under short snouts. With four legs and a set  of arms complete with hands, they spun webs that had a hallucinogenic  coating to make their prey euphoric and lethargic. This kept their prey  content and incapacitated enough to stay put in the web while the  spinner stopped by now and then to have a nibble. When breeding, they  laid eggs in their live food so the babies would have something to eat  immediately upon hatching.

"We won't be able to take the horses any further," he said darkly.

Shea swung her leg over and dismounted before leading her and Eamon's  horses back the way they'd come. She tethered them close to the mouth of  the canyon where there weren't as many webs. Hopefully, they'd be safe  here. At least until Eamon and Shea returned.

"Ready?" Eamon asked.

Shea blew out a breath. No, but that hadn't stopped her before.

They moved quickly and quietly down the canyon, taking turns watching  the cliffs for signs of spinners. Unlike the shadow beetle, spinners  didn't have the ability to completely blend in with their surroundings.

Would their quarry really have come this way? Especially in the day when the webs would be much easier to see?

Eamon held up a fist, his entire body going still as he scanned the  night. Shea braced, planting her feet while her senses tuned to any  sound or movement.

Eamon looked over his shoulder to make sure she was paying attention and  pointed off to the right. Shea squinted but couldn't see what had sent  him into high alert.         

     



 

The spinner webs were thicker here with entire sections of the canyon wall hidden by thick ropes of white.

Finally she heard what Eamon must have as a guttural groan reached her  ears. She tapped him on the shoulder to indicate she heard, and together  they crept across the ground strewn with huge boulders towering above  their heads. Shea's skin crawled just thinking of a spinner sitting  unseen on top of one as they lay in wait for unsuspecting prey.

The fourth time she stole a glance at the shadowy heights, she stumbled  nearly knocking Eamon down in the process. Hitting the ground with a  loud thump, she cringed, silently mouthing several choice words. When  nothing happened, she released a breath and heaved herself to her feet,  brushing the dirt from her stinging hands. She must have scraped them  when she fell.

Eamon waited, his silent presence still managing to radiate disbelief and humor despite being cast in shadow.

They made their way to where the webs were thickest, following the indistinct groaning.

So far no sign of spinners. Shea hoped it stayed that way.

The two split up to investigate the area. Eamon headed deeper into the canyon while Shea moved along the webs.

She stopped near where she thought the sounds originated and peered  closer at the way the webs strands crisscrossed in an intricate pattern  that might have been beautiful if it hadn't been so damn scary.

Seeing the dim shadow of a figure, she stepped closer and was able to  make out an arm that led to a slumped man, only the strands holding him  upright. His head lolled making it impossible to see his face.

"Eamon." Shea's excited whisper sounded like a shout after the tension filled quiet. "I found something."

He moved back to her as Shea tried to find a way to the man without  disturbing any of the spinner strands. The slightest brush would alert  their makers, much like a fly struggling in a spider's web would the  spider. That or she might become entangled and find it impossible to  escape.

As she slipped closer, she made out the slouched figures of two others in addition to the man she'd found.

"Shane," Eamon said in a low voice, tension threading into it. "I'm not sure you should get any closer."

Shea dipped beneath another complicated set of threads and straightened in front of her man.

"Is that them?" Eamon asked.

"Not sure, but who else could it be?" Shea whispered back.

The man groaned again, and Shea took a chance that he was conscious enough to understand her.

"Try to stay still," Shea warned. "The strands have a hallucinogenic that will get stronger the more you struggle."

She needed him semi-conscious so he could run when they freed him.

"Who're you?" the man asked, his voice hoarse with pain.

"Shane." As she tried to get closer to see some of the others, she kept  talking trying to keep him calm and awake. "I'm a scout. What's your  name?"

"Fallon."

Son of a bitch.

What was he even doing out here? He should be drawing up battle plans,  strategizing or whatever, safe in the confines of the encampment, not  caught in a spinner's web somewhere in the Lowland wilderness.

"I take it from your silence you know who I am."

That was a stupid statement considering she'd told him she was Trateri,  and every Trateri knew who Fallon Hawkvale was. Guess he was a little  more out of it than she thought.

Lifting her voice a bit, she said, "Eamon, we've found our quarry."

Damn it.

"Who is it?"

"Hawkvale." Her voice was flat and unemotional.

There was a moment of stunned silence and then a low, "Fuck."

That about summed it up.

"There are two others as well."

The other two men were set further back in the webs and didn't seem to  be moving. Neither stirred at Shane and Eamon's voices. She was afraid  to shout in case the noise attracted a spinner.

The venom coated on the webs had most likely already been absorbed into  their skin. It was amazing Fallon was as awake and alert as he was  considering the amount of web wrapped around him.

"Can you cut them out?" Eamon asked.

Shea observed the threads skeptically, not daring to touch them. "Not unless we want to attract the whole nest."

There was restrained cursing from Eamon. In any other situation it would have been funny given how quiet he was trying to be.

Shea's skin itched with the need to get out of there. They were entirely  too exposed. It was only a matter of time before their luck ran out.

She could always abandon Fallon and his men to their fate. Take Eamon  and run. No one had to know they found the Trateri's leader. That would  be the smart plan  –  the safe plan.         

     



 

Shea wasn't going to do that though. No, she was going to try to save  them just as soon as she figured out a semi decent strategy. She blamed  her mother for this overwhelming sense of duty and responsibility to  those who didn't always deserve either.

But the only plan she could come up with meant someone acting as a decoy.

"Shane, wait ten minutes and then start cutting. If you can't get the  other two to wake up, leave them and get Hawkvale away from here."

"I can't-"

"You can. I'll keep the spinners distracted while you work, but you won't have much time before they're on you."

"Wait, Eamon," Shea whispered as his shadow moved.

"Someone has to act as the decoy, boy." Eamon's voice was strong and  firm. "Don't worry about me. I'm Trateri. We're not so easy to kill as  you Lowlanders."

Knowing that arguing with him was useless, she dropped her head and  stared at the ground, wishing she could be honest with him about who she  was, that she could tell him that he was an amazing leader and an even  better friend.

Clearing her throat, she forced down words that might make her feel  better but were ultimately useless. "They're not overly fond of fire so  setting their webs aflame might give you enough time to get away."

She couldn't see it in the dim light, but she knew he nodded before his shadow disappeared.

She whispered, "Good luck and thanks for everything."

Her fingers found a loose thread at the bottom of her shirt and pulled nervously as the minutes crept by.

Seeing Fallon's head sag, Shea made her way over to him and said his name softly. When he didn't respond, she slapped him.

Fallon's head jerked when she slapped him again. She needed him awake. There was just no way she could carry him out of here.

He lifted his head and shot a glare her way. It wasn't very impressive  as his eyes were unfocused and slightly glazed, but she shrugged in  feigned sympathy just in case he did remember this later.

"Stay awake," she ordered. "I can't carry you so you'll have to walk out yourself."

He mumbled something indistinctly. Seeing that he was struggling to stay  awake, she moved on to the other two. The first one's form was small  and misshapen. Even with the poor light she could tell pieces of him  were missing, and there were black stains on the ground near his body.  He was dead or likely wished he was if he was still conscious. Still,  she reached out and felt his neck, flinching at the waxy feel of cold  flesh under her fingers.