Tanis the shadow years (d2-3) (11 page)

There were моrе screams from the humans as Tanis scrambled back to the top of the barricade. The half-elf recoiled from the scene below. A giant spider, with scabrous, long legs and an eager mandible, was turning the humans in its path into masses of slashed and bleeding flesh. The human reflections of those who were killed or injured took on the same bloody countenance as the originals, so scores seemed to fall in agony. The creature killed silently, but the din of the victims was deafening. Brandella turned from the sight with a horrified cry; many of the elves reacted in the same way. It wasn't long before the very sight of the hideous creature sent the real soldiers into a headlong retreat, their duplicates instantly following. Those humans who were farther away, however, nocked their arrows and sent them flying in the direction of the gigantic spider.

A rain of wildly aimed arrows filled the air, and, perhaps fearing that they might kill the creature, Kishpa continued jabbering away in a long-forgotten tongue, murmuring sounds that Tanis suspected only Raistlin would have known and understood.

Kishpa, with what Tanis realized was a fine sense of justice, used the same duplication'spell as had his human counterparts. As the mage's words became more intense, the screams from below grew to a soul-shattering extreme as the humans suddenly found themselves facing a growing army of giant spiders.

Spiders will avoid a fight unless they feel threatened and sense that they have no choice. With the barricades behind them, they had only one direction in which they could easily go. And from that direction came painful arrows and thousands of swarming humans.

With the spiders constantly churning their scaly legs in a field of men, it became virtually impossible to tell which of the spiders was the original and which were the magic duplicates. Slaying the right spider might have ended the humans' ordeal, but they had to fight all of them at the same time. Arrows from the elven barricades made the trial that more hellish for the soldiers.

The human army, both real and unreal, fled as one. They turned like ships on a stormy sea, twisting in one wave and then tacking as if with the wind. Feasting on human blood, the real spider followed after them, hungry for more. And the rest of the duplicate monsters followed in a macabre dance of dozens of thin, long, sharp-edged legs that skittered across the open meadow like so many nightmares. The humans were routed.

The elves on the barricades cried with joy at their deliverance. The chant of "Kishpa!" went up among them, echoing into the morning sky.

For his own part, the mage stood slumped against Brandella's shoulder, exhausted. Supporting her lover, the weaver sent Tanis a look that seemed to say, "See? I told you he would need me," and Tanis nodded shortly. A handful of grateful villagers rushed up to their mage and carried him down on their shoulders, Brandella following. The rest of the elves danced on the barricades, showing little of their notorious elven reserve.

"We must have a feast!" cried Canpho, the healer, rushing around the main square on his stubby legs.

"Yes, a feast!" echoed the elves, rushing down from the battlements.

"We must send for the women to come home to us!" shouted Canpho. "We have been saved by great magic!"

The cheering thundered, and Kishpa, his face etched with weariness, nonetheless glowed in their praise. No wonder, Tanis thought, that the mage would remember this moment in all its detail years later.

"Come, we will build bonfires on the beach!" declared Canpho. "Let everyone find whatever food they can spare. We will share our meager stores in victory."

The barricades emptied, and the elves of the village carried Kishpa along in a daze of happiness.

Scowarr stayed behind with Tanis. The slender human had switched back into yesterday's rags-minus the bandages-no doubt to preserve his new finery.

"Why aren't you going with them?" the half-elf asked.

"Yesterday I was their hero," he complained, sulking.

Tanis smiled at his all-too-human friend. "Elves are not as fickle as humans, Scowarr. They won't forget what you did. But right now Kishpa deserves his praise. Don't be jealous of him."

"Who said I was jealous?" Little Shoulders demanded defiantly.

Tanis didn't answer. A strange, loud scratching had captured his attention. It seemed to be coming from somewhere behind him. He looked over his shoulder and staggered back in horror at the sight. A long, thin, bloody spider's leg was looping over the barricade wall!

"I'm not jealous at all," Scowarr went on petulantly. "I'm surprised you would actually think-"

Tanis reached out and grabbed Little Shoulders by the collar and spun him around.

Scowarr paled as he watched another leg appear. "It's not possible," said the human in tremulous disbelief.

Another leg came over the wall. Then another. The barricade shifted under the weight, groaning as if in anticipation of the horror to come, as the spider pressed down on its forward legs. The grotesque body of the creature suddenly came into view, its back legs swinging forward, as it steadied itself on the top of the battlement.

A moment later, long, bloodsoaked, razor-sharp spider legs began appearing all along the barricade walls. On every side, the legs appeared, clawing, reaching, climbing. Up they came, the duplicate spiders following their master, a vision of death that moved inexorably down the barricades.

"I feel like a fly," Scowarr mumbled.

"You'll taste like one, too," Tanis answered.

"Now he makes jokes."

The half-elf drew his enchanted sword, the blade glowing red. Scowarr began to follow suit, pulling his own broadsword from its scabbard. "No," said Tanis, stopping the human before the sword was free of its sheath. "Go for help. I have my eye on the real spider, and if I can keep it at bay, the duplicates will not go forward."

"You can't fight it alone," Scowarr insisted.

Tanis was moved, even as he prepared to fight. "You have broad shoulders, my friend," he said. "Don't ever let anyone tell you otherwise. But you can help me best by doing as I ask. Get Kishpa now. The spider will not wait while we debate."

Still Scowarr wavered. "I don't know if I should go."

Tanis swung around, putting the tip of his blade at Scowarr's throat. "Now do you know7"

Scowarr blinked. "Uh… yes."

'Then go!"

The human did as Tanis ordered, scampering as fast as his legs would carry him in the direction in which the villagers had gone.

The massive spider, touched by magic, sensed the presence of Kishpa's magic in the glowing red metal of Tanis's sword; this was danger. The spider rubbed its horrific legs, and a screeching, scratching sound pierced the air. It was a call, Tanis realized, to its duplicates to form a protective circle around it. They rushed toward their master in a flurry of skittering legs.

Tanis, trying desperately not to lose sight of the only real spider in this army of gigantic grotesques, charged among them, his sword raised and ready.

Racing into this web of monsters, Tanis's first thought was that he was committing suicide. The spiders towered over him and he questioned what good even an enchanted sword would do when all he could attack were the creatures' legs. Still, he hacked at the limb of the first monster that blocked his way. He sliced off a hunk of one leg; the beast sprayed blood, proving that while it was a duplicate, it was no mirage. It could kill and be killed. And what happened to one duplicate happened to all: blood spewed from numerous severed legs.

Wounded, the creatures flew into a killing rage. Those closest to Tanis tried to slash him with their sharp-edged legs. However, Tanis had a faster, sharper blade. His glowing broadsword, an extension of his arm, was a blur of color, whipping first left, then right, cutting off pieces of spider leg as if he were a mad woodchopper.

Blood ran in the street like water from a spring mountain thaw. But the runoff was neither cool nor refreshing for Tanis; his battle gear was splatterd with the hot liquid that made the cobblestones slippery underfoot. He had to get to higher ground, he thought, as he fought to keep his balance in the streams of flowing blood. As he slashed with every step, the spiders moved fearfully out of his way until he reached the barricades. It was here that the real spider waited, its army of protectors decimated and bleeding. The real spider suffered none of the wounds of the others.

Tanis rubbed his face to wipe off the blood that had nearly blinded him. The seemingly endless attack of the spiders had eased, many of the creatures hobbling away from him on uneven stumps.

But from off to his left, a huge spider, massive and untouched, began spinning a web. With a jerky movement of one thin leg, it threw the mass toward the half-elf, who tried unsuccessfully to outrun the sticky substance. The glutinous webbing caught the warrior, who fought uselessly to free himself, beating back the panic that he felt rising in his chest. With two of its forelegs, the spider pulled, knocking Tanis down. The half-elf tumbled off the barricade and fell into the bloody street below, his sword slipping out of his hand and becoming tangled in the spider's web near his feet.

The spider drew the thin, white cocoon closer. The half-elf, stunned from the fall and disoriented, rolled over onto his back. The behemoth, seemingly sure of its kill, brought yet another leg to bear in dragging Tanis closer. When Tanis was nearly underneath it, the beast began lowering its massive body, its maw dripping.

A dark shadow blotted out the sun. A horrible smell made Tanis want to wretch. A scent like rotting meat shocked him out of his state of semi-consciousness.

Tanis opened his eyes and saw through a hazy white webbing the dripping mandible of the spider.

He began to lift his hand, but the broadsword was not in his grip. He reached around frantically, trying to find the blade. But it was no use.

Time had rim out for him. With no sword, he could not defend himself. Trapped in the webbing, he watched in silent terror as the spider prepared to devour him.

The beast screamed. The roar, so close to Tanis, echoed painfully. Then the spider suddenly turned away from him, releasing its hold. Struggling against the sticky webbing, Tanis twisted to see what had happened. Looking through the spider's spindly legs, Tanis saw a most unlikely looking savior. It was Mertwig! The old dwarf had come up behind the creature and had crushed the bottom of one of its legs with his battle-axe. And now the monster focused its hate on a new enemy.

Mertwig cursed himself for a fool. What good could he do except get himself killed along with the half-elf 7 Yet he had to do something to help the noble soul who had saved his Yeblidod.

The dwarf had mindlessly dropped the heavy leather bag that he had carried out of the alley attacking the monster with the hope that he could divert its attention away from Tanis. In this he had been successful. But now who was going to save him from the deadly creature's wrath7

Mertwig cursed again, loud and richly profane. There was much battle experience in his aged heart, and Mertwig knew that one did not fenter a contest of war with the expectation of getting help from anything except the weapons carried in one's hands. Those weapons-his axe and a knife with a long, curved blade-were not going to be enough against this hovering monstrosity. Nonetheless, Mertwig stood his ground, spinning his axe in a wide arc over his head. He intended to throw it at the spot where the spider's legs joined, hoping to strike one of its bulging eyes, blinding it. Perhaps then he would have a chance to pick up the heavy bag and run. It was his only chance.

The spider appeared to see no threat from the axe whipping in a tight circle around the dwarf's head. It lunged forward with three legs, its body dipping low. Just then the dwarf let go of his axe. The weapon soared upward, cutting through the air on an angle that took it high over the spider's head. It struck nothing except the barricade behind the behemoth.

"Reorx!" Mertwig bellowed, and dove to the ground behind the massive, leather bag.

As soon as Mertwig had distracted the spider, Tanis tried once again to find his broadsword by feeling his way along the edges of the imprisoning web. He couldn't locate it. He wanted to raise his head, but the restraining cocoon around his body made that impossible. Frustrated, he kicked at the lower end of the webbing with his boots, hoping to tear it.

It did not tear or rip. His leg motion, however, caused something caught in the webbing near his right foot to rattle and scrape against the ground. Tanis heard the sound and rejoiced. He had found his sword.

Tanis quickly rolled over on to his right side. Curling up as much as the glutinous webbing would allow, he used his right foot to push the blade higher while he bent downward to reach with his right hand.

His fingertips touched the edge of the broadsword's handle.

Tanis stretched as far as he could. He gained another inch but could not quite grip the sword. His muscles felt as if they were going to snap from the strain, but he pushed them even farther. This time, his fingers were able to wrap around the end of the handle. Then he gave the handle a little tug, and it jumped up into his palm.'

The sword glowed crimson.

Tanis lifted the blade, and it easily sliced through the webbing. He was free.

Scrambling to his feet, the half-elf saw Mertwig's danger as the dwarf dove behind the sack. Even as Mertwig leaped through the air, Tanis was dashing up the side of the nearby battlement with long, loping strides. At the top, he saw that the dwarf had briefly avoided the spider's sharp-edged legs. The monster would not miss the next time.

The half-elf had to kill it outright, or die in the attempt. Gauging the distance, Tanis ran along the top of the barricade toward the spider's body, and then jumped out into open space. He flew through the air until he landed on the monster's back, his sword his anchor, digging it deep into the spider's body.

The spider reared up in shock and pain, trying frantically to throw Tanis off its back. Tanis slid off to the right but kept both hands firmly wrapped round the handle of his broadsword. The sheer weight of the half-elf's body caused the blade to slowly slice downward, gutting the creature.

The spider tried to get at Tanis with its flailing legs, but the angle was impossible. Then it rammed its side against the barricade, nearly crushing Tanis. The half-elf anticipated the impact and jumped free, pulling the sword out of the spider. But before the monster could right itself, Tanis leaped up yet again. With one swift and powerful stroke, the sword came down on the center of the creature's body, where its nerves and all its senses met. In that moment, all the wounded duplicates vanished. And the one, lone, vanquished spider curled and crumpled heavily to the ground, dead.

Tanis fell with the creature, landing at the foot of the barricade.

Mertwig hurried to the half-elf, kneeling at his side. "Are you hurt?" The dwarf shook uncontrollably, his face ashen.

Tanis, breathless from the fall, could not answer at first. He pulled himself into a seated position, but his head whirled.

Mertwig shoved the half-elf's swimming head down between his knees. "Yeblidod makes people do this when they feel faint. Stay there, and breathe slowly. I'll fetch the healer," the dwarf ordered. But Tanis reached out for Mertwig's arm and held him there. After a few moments, Tanis was able to speak. He lifted his head. "I'm all right," he wheezed. "Help me up."

With the dwarf's assistance, Tanis got to his feet. Despite some wooziness, he was relieved to find that he was still in one piece. Which was more than could be said of the spider.

"I've never seen anything like it-" Mertwig began.

Tanis would not let him finish. Instead, the half-elf said, "If not for you…" He fought back another wave of dizziness, then continued. "I owe you my life, Mertwig. If there is anything I can ever do-" This time Mertwig cut him off, looking up with an insulted expression. "It is I who owed you a great debt for saving my Yebbie." But then he paused as the two heard the distant sound of people storming up the street. "But now that you mention it," Mertwig hurriedly amended, "there is something you can do. I beg of you, tell no one I was here. You never saw me. Never. What you did, you did alone. May I have your word?"

Tanis was bewildered. "But why…?"

"Please. I must have your word!" insisted the dwarf.

"Of course, but-"

"Then it's a solemn oath," said Mertwig. With that, he dashed over to the heavy sack he had dropped earlier, hoisted it over his shoulder, and then ran down a dark alley. He was already out of sight when Scowarr, Kishpa, and Brandella turned a corner, leading hundreds of elves in the half-elf's direction.

Scowarr and the others slowed and then stopped. The sight of Tanis standing alone near the fallen spider filled them all with a sense of awe.

Kishpa studied the half-elf.

"I feared to find you dead and the spiders rampaging through the village," said the mage, visibly relieved.

Brandella's reaction surprised everyone-especially Kishpa, it seemed. After stopping and taking in the scene, she suddenly dashed ahead of them all and wrapped her arms around the half-elf, hugging him close.

Eyebrows were raised over numerous pairs of almond- shaped eyes, but no one spoke except Kishpa, who, when he reached Tanis, said with considerable restraint, "We are grateful for what you have done for Ankatavaka." And then he gently but inexorably pulled Brandella away from the bloodstained half-elf.

'Tell us how you did it," Scowarr asked excitedly, mindless of Kishpa's jealousy and the embarrassment of the rest of the elves. Tanis, taken aback by Brandella's uninhibited approval, tried to minimize his actions, saying, "I could not have survived if not for the spell Kishpa cast over my sword. Beyond that, I simply had much luck."

"And much bravery," added Scowarr, proud of his friend.

Kishpa's eyes narrowed. He seemed to be battling several emotions-discomfiture with Brandella's reaction to Tanis, respect for his bravery, and perhaps jealousy over sharing the spotlight with a half-elf who increasingly appeared to be his rival. Tanis, watching, wondered which sentiment would emerge victorious.

He got his answer when the red-robed mage turned to face the crowd. "We have yet another victory to celebrate today," the wizard cried. "To the feast!"