Merlin snorted as he conjured up the light of his holly staff. “Did I not tell you?”
“You did, but this level of c-cold is beyond imagining.”
“Close your cloak and make sure all of your garments are cinched tightly. You’ll warm up soon enough.”
Leonard pulled his hands out of their mittens and tightened every strap, string, and belt of his clothing as quickly as he could. Even so, by the time he slipped the mittens back on, his fingers felt as though they were both on fire and numb from the wicked cold.
Sir Ronald, on the other hand, was so happy he moved like he was dancing at a midsummer night’s ball. “It worked, Merlin. I can’t believe it worked! I’m so glad I didn’t get lost in the void.”
“As am I, Sir Ronald. Now, I believe this cavern was inhabited by a rather large eight-legged beastie?”
Sir Ronald’s demeanor quickly changed, and he became quite serious. “Yes, the spider was up near the entrance when I first came through here. I can only guess it’s still there now.”
“It’s not there now,” said a raspy voice that sounded like it came from someone with a sore throat. “Or should I say she is not there now.”
Everyone froze, then, slowly, all eyes turned toward the front of the cavern.
Leonard saw Merlin pull the stone that carried Taddy out of his robes, but then think better of it and put the stone back in a short moment later. The wizard straightened himself and cleared his throat. “Ahem. Please forgive our poor manners for showing up unannounced like this, but we seek safe passage through your cavern so that we might continue our mission to aid the mighty Claws Crimson.”
There was a momentary pause. “Never heard of him,” said the raspy voice.
Merlin was slightly taken aback. “He’s the King of the Northern Lights. You know, Svartalfheim?”
“I’ve heard of Svartalfheim. It’s one of the nine worlds of Yggdrasil.”
Merlin smiled. “Yes, exactly!”
“If, as you say, this Claws Crimson is such a mighty king, why does he need your help?”
“Well, it’s a rather complicated story involving political intrigue, multiple betrayals—”
“I’m not interested in any of that,” said the voice.
“Nor should you be, ma’am,” said Merlin, bowing. “All we are hoping to do—”
“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t spear you with my forelegs and suck all the hot, delicious life out of you.”
Merlin blinked. “Uh, yes, well . . . I might not have that reason readily available, but I have someone with me who does.”
Leonard’s heart sank into the pit of his stomach as he pretty much knew the next words that were going to come out of the old man’s mouth.
“Please tell our hostess the reason why she shouldn’t spear us with her forelegs and suck all the hot, delicious life out of us.”
Leonard closed his eyes and sighed. Thanks for nothing, Merlin.
“Yes, tell me,” said the raspy voice, now tinged with hunger.
The young knight paused for a moment, but only for a moment, for he knew in his gut that if he took too long to say something the spider would interpret his silence as an inability to answer the question. He knew he was running out of time and was about to say something, anything, when the spider, which was exactly as Sir Ronald described her—humongous and covered with white fur—stepped into the light of Merlin’s staff. Leonard, Merlin, and even Sir Ronald gasped. This momentary spasm of pure fear did have a positive side effect, however, in that Leonard’s mouth started moving and words started coming out without Leonard giving permission to do so. And while this “feature” had gotten Leonard and his friends out of a few tight scrapes in the past, at those times he, at least, had some vague notion of what was expected of him. This time, however, he had absolutely no inkling of what words would keep him and Merlin from being speared by a giant spider’s forelegs and drained of their life essence. So . . . when the words, “That dope of a wizard does this to me all of the time,” came out, he was as surprised as anyone including the spider.
“He does?”
“Yes!” continued Leonard. “We’ll be in some horribly perilous situation and he’ll turn to me and say something stupid like ‘Oh, we’ve got Leonard with us, he’ll know what to do!’ Like I’m supposed to know the exact right thing to do.”
“In my defense, it usually works,” sniffed Merlin.
Leonard was on a roll as he stomped over to Merlin and stood face to face with him. “That’s entirely beside the point, you old scoundrel, and you know it!” Leonard looked up at the spider. “He claims I have some borderline magical gift for coming up with the right answer on the fly.”
“Well, do you?” asked the spider, clearly intrigued.
“I don’t know, maybe? Whenever this happens it feels like I’m winging it. So, with all due respect, I’m asking you to please not eat us. I’m sorry, but that’s all I got,” said Leonard, throwing up his hands and dropping himself on the ground.
The spider blinked all eight of her eyes and remained still for a moment. “All right, good enough. I’ll let you pass.”
Leonard looked up. “You will?”
“Why not? Truth be told, I ate recently so I’m not that hungry. The kill first and ask questions later thing is sort of a default position for us giant spiders. Why not mix things up a bit? And I sympathize with your plight of always being the one who comes up with ‘the plan.’ It was like that for me with my siblings . . . before I ate them all. So, yes, go ahead.”
Leonard glanced at Merlin and shook his head. “That is very nice of you . . . I’m sorry, what was your name?”
“Kónguló.”
“Well, Kónguló, allow me to thank you for your mercy and understanding. My name is Leonard, and I am the Lord of the Green Valley, which is in Midgard as I believe you know it,” he said with a bow.
“Hello, Leonard, Lord of the Green Valley in Midgard,” said Kónguló, extending one of her forelegs, causing Leonard to jump back. Kónguló laughed. “Oh no, this is not the prelude to an attack. It is how my kind greet each other. Extend your hand.”
Leonard cautiously did so and was surprised when the huge spider gently tapped it.
Leonard gestured toward Sir Ronald. “This is Sir Ronald of the Green Valley.”
“The same Green Valley you rule over?”
“Yes, ma’am. He is its former lord since he is deceased.”
Leonard could tell that Kónguló was slightly upset as she examined Sir Ronald. “I have seen you before, haven’t I?”
Sir Ronald nodded. “Yes, ma’am. I came through here a while ago.” He paused, brow furrowed. “Or was it recently? Time does behave strangely in Niflheim, doesn’t it? You were gracious enough to let me pass without any hindrance at all.”
“I’m not sure I could’ve stopped you if I wanted to,” said Kónguló. “You are literally nothing, are you not?”
“That is correct, ma’am. I am what is called a ghost or a shade, a being without form or substance,” said Sir Ronald as he extended his hand. “Little more than an echo of what I was during my lifetime—for now, anyway. When I reach Heaven—”