At Water Crossing, the grand bridge spanning the east-west tributary that split plainsland from foothills, a storm fell upon them. Elliot was drenched. He walked beside the rear wagon and tugged Willow the horse through the deluge. His poor animal desperately wished to stop, based on her occasional yank of his reins, and Elliot sympathised. The rear end of the wagon ahead was all he could see through the rainfall.
Water soaked his hair and his clothes. It spattered angrily at his ears and filled his boots. Could rainfall be so intense that it drowned him? It felt to Elliot like it was giving a good go of it. He’d never been out in a storm like this, had always witnessed downpour from the safety of Layman’s walls. This shelter-less, flat road was no doubt conflating the effect of the rainfall, making it seem unnatural.
But what if it was unnatural? A familiar spike of anxiety struck Elliot in the chest as he remembered the convoy’s proximity to the Old Saint’s Dungeon. Jayce’s map had them stopping on the far side of Water Crossing for one last evening, then setting out for a final day of travel that would see them, late in the afternoon, reaching their destination. So close now. Close enough to touch.
Was it madness to consider that the Demon Sorceress had sent this storm to delay them? Perhaps not Elliot and Sam specifically, but interfering humans like them? The Layman contingent marching in their wake would suffer just as Elliot was, weakening their combat ability. And considering the water rushing against his body as something eldritch, something unnatural, chilled his spirit just as his bones were chilled.
Elliot plodded on, gripping Willow’s reins tight. No much to do about the Demon Sorceress save continue to put one foot in front of the other. Worrying did nothing. Anxiety did nothing. Just keep walking…
The hand on his shoulder made him jump. Sasha’s padded armour looked heavy indeed under the veil of rain, and Elliot could barely identify the green of her uniform. But somehow, she had found the energy to smile under her helmet.
“We’re not crossing today!” she bellowed through the deluge. “There’s an old hostel on the south bank! We’re gonna shelter there for the night!”
Elliot nodded, his heart overflowing with relief. Not just shelter for the night, but a delay! More time before he had to confront destiny! What a relief!
The hostel was, as best as Elliot could tell, a two-storey structure of oak, reinforced at the base with raw stone. It was a wide building, its windows suggesting some five or six rooms on each level, though those windows were covered with wooden shutters. Before stepping into the shadow of the building, Elliot caught a glimpse of a tiled roof. The roof’s silhouette was oddly slanted at its near end, from Elliot’s perspective, as if shorter on one side. He wasn’t sure what that meant.
With Sasha’s help, Elliot parked the wagons beside the building. The hostel had a covered stand for horses, but neither of them felt comfortable leaving Willow and Chartreuse out in the rain. When Jayce emerged from within and suggested taking them inside, strange as that sounded, Elliot was happy to take the suggestion. He coaxed the pair through the hostel’s main doors and into the main thoroughfare.
“Oh,” he said.
The hostel had been abandoned. The wooden floors were cracked and dirty, and stray beams and planks had been piled in the corner of the main chamber where repairs had been started and then given up on. Those shuttered windows had in fact been boarded up, and the glass had long ago been broken into shards. A shocking net of cobwebs hung from the ceiling and filled the corners. Hooks for lanterns on the chamber ceiling were bare, their cargo stolen. It was cold, and the heavy patter on the ceiling suggested the roof had given way and was spilling water into the upper storey.
“Oh indeed.” Sam was shivering beside the chamber entrance. She’d wrapped a towel around her shoulders, and her lovely, ginger hair was soaked. “This serves me right for looking forward to a hot meal and comfortable bed, if only for a moment.”
Elliot laughed, and Sam offered him a chilly smile in return.
Jayce tore down the planks covering the window on the far side of the room, and he and Sasha began passing supplies through from the wagons outside to keep them from ruin. Meanwhile, Elliot and Sam did their best to tidy the room in preparation for sleep. Some of the flooring was riddled with damp, so they swept the dirt and broken glass to these spots they wouldn’t be using. Then they spread out thick sheets from their supply and weighed them down with their own lit lanterns. And with the horses resting in a cosy corner, the four travellers took their ease.
“I got a look at the bridge,” said Jayce. He’d shed his armour down to his smallclothes and was lying on his back on their makeshift carpet. “Technically, it’s still above the waterline. But I wouldn’t want to cross in this. Feels like we might get swept away in the wind.”
“Is this sort of weather usual for the region?” asked Elliot, hugging his wet knees.
“I’m afraid I’m not sure. This isn’t an area I’m familiar with. Why, you think this is Sorceress magic at work?”
Elliot shrugged. It sounded childish when he said it like that.
“Can’t imagine she’d be quite so cavalier with the weather,” said a stretching Sasha with a chuckle. “Those poor goblins from Ailey are going to have to travel through anything she conjures up, not just humans.”
“I’ve heard of weather charms that travellers can carry to reduce local rainfall,” said Elliot.” Maybe she gave them-… O-Oh, sorry.”
“Hm? Why?” asked Sasha. She dropped her shed clothing onto the wood. Above her padded breeches, she was topless. Elliot yanked his eyes off her pert nipples.
“Welcome to the road, Elliot,” laughed Jayce. “It’s amazing we haven’t all seen each other’s unmentionables yet. I might as well…” he added, tucking his thumbs into his shorts.
“Do excuse me.” Sam shot to her feet. “I would like to change, but this place is large enough that I can find privacy.”
She stormed off into the main corridor, leaving Jayce and Sasha’s laughing voices behind. Elliot smiled along, even as Sasha stepped out of her breeches and left herself nude. He tried not to stare as she crossed the floor to retrieve sleeping clothes from their belongings. She was a fit woman, tight with muscle and powerful in gait. The scar she wore on her lip had its kin on her right shoulder blade and her left thigh, just below her bum. She was a picture of physical strength and battle experience. But however fascinating, Elliot tried not to stare.
“I’ll take first watch tonight,” said Jayce. He’d sat up and was combing his long hair with his fingers. “You should get some sleep, Elliot. Big day tomorrow.”
Elliot sighed. Big day indeed. And Sasha’s naked body was only so distracting.
As Jayce and Sasha shared memories of storms from their past, Elliot dressed for bed. He didn’t mind having the two guards present, since he and Jayce had been sharing a wagon anyway and Sasha evidently didn’t care. He would have minded if Sam had been there. Elliot’s cotton outfit held the chill at bay admirably, and when he snuggled into his bedroll on the rug, he was positively toasty.
“This is fun,” said Sasha. She was now wearing her own thick sleeping shift, thankfully. “This reminds me of when I’d stay with my friends when I was a girl.”
“Sharing stories, making gossip,” said Jayce with his own wistful smile. “Trading secrets not right for the daytime. Good memories. We didn’t need this place ready to receive us after all.”
“Why do you think it was abandoned?” Elliot asked from under his blanket.
“Same reason the Demon Sorceress found a whole fort with nobody protecting it. Argany couldn’t keep up maintenance so they let the thing fallow. Whoever owned the building must’ve gotten sick of having to pay for their own defence and trade.”
“Or their customers did when they hiked up the price,” said Sasha, lying back on the rug with her hands behind her head.
“So it’s just been sitting here without anyone using it?”
“Oh, I’ll bet folk have been using it,” Sasha remarked. “The sort of folk who are quite happy with just a roof over their heads. Folk like us.”
“Travellers?”
“Sure. And bandits and things. Criminals, ne’er-do-wells, vagrants…”
Elliot looked towards the closed door of their little bastion of lanternlight. “We should let Sam know.”
“I didn’t see sign of anyone here right now,” said Jayce. He rolled onto his side and cast Elliot a reassuring smile. “I’ll be patrolling the main corridors tonight anyway. You should focus on sleep.”
But Elliot’s anxious heart didn’t relax until Sam rejoined them minutes later. Her sleeping outfit was a long nightdress, reinforced against the cold with wool arm warmers. When she passed him, Elliot spied leggings made of the same material under her skirt.
“Ready for bed, Princess?” asked Sasha. The guard had spread out her bedroll near Elliot’s, and she was lying on her front, resting her chin on her hands. Her feisty grin, decorated by that scar on her lip, shone in the firelight.
“I intend to remain awake for a little longer yet,” Sam replied. She knelt beside their pile of supplies and retrieved her writing belt, tossing it over one shoulder. “Do not wait for me.”
“You’re going back out there?”
“Yes, Elliot. Is that well with you?”
Her folded arms and stern frown failed to faze him, even lying at her feet as he was. “We might not be alone here,” he said.
“I can shout if I am assaulted, and provided I do not slay my attacker first. And I shan’t be going far. But I require solitude as I prepare for tomorrow. It is an important day.”
Elliot rolled to face away as his heart once more began to patter. It was an important day tomorrow. Should he have been staying up too?
“But thank you for the warning. I shall remain vigilant.”
Sam padded across the rug and left the room. She didn’t look back.
Beside Elliot, Sasha had rolled onto her back. Beyond, Jayce was stretching in preparation for his patrol, and he had a short blade strapped ludicrously over his undershorts. But Sasha’s mischievous laughter drew Elliot’s attention back to her.
“She’s adorable,” said the guard, then winked. And Elliot, unsure how to respond, simply smiled.
* * *
Dear Marie,
It feels so long since I last saw you. Just when I had begun taking the High Tower bells for granted, I am without them. It is a wonder I arrive on time for anything.
I have much to tell you. This journey has not progressed as I had envisioned. I have met monsters, Marie. And I do not simply mean the oafish boy I have been cursed to escort.
Sam let a cheeky chuckle play across her lips. She dipped her quill in the little inkwell and continued.
You would agree that Elliot of Layman is too much a child to be of any help in a formal negotiation. He is passive in a way I know would cause you to tear your hair out. He believes that all people, and indeed all monsters, will come to us in friendship if we grant them space to do so. And a pair of fraught encounters on the road have not dissuaded him. So stubborn.
I would much rather you were here with me instead. When you read this, our time with the Demon Sorceress will be well over, and I will be on my way home to you. But I wish our reunion was sooner. I miss you.
Sam paused. She reread her last paragraph, and she clicked her teeth. Growling her frustration, she shoved the draft letter away from where she was sitting and let it play upon the still air of the empty upper-storey hostel room.
Why was this so difficult? She spoke to Marie every day during their studies in High Tower. They practically lived together. So why was she struggling to pen a simple missive to her dear friend? Why was it that resonating with that friendship through written discourse turned her language so… so…?
Sam stood quickly to her feet, and she began to pace. Her own shadow, conjured by the light of her single lantern, stretched large across the wooden wall of the little room, lurching back and forth like a swooping blade of night.
She thought of Ailey and its invaders, their tight bodices and lusty eyes. Their ideological worship of the female form. And Ana, the bandit queen, naked beneath Elliot’s coat. Sasha’s broad smile when she described the own feminine company she kept. All images that clouded her mind when she tried to write a perfectly platonic letter to her friend Marie. Jayce’s confident grin and toned body, Elliot’s marvellous cracked-gemstone eyes, were left as afterthoughts.
Sam’s pacing brought her too close to the boarded window and the edge of the room, and her bare foot brushed through a nest of cobweb. When she shuddered and flicked out her ankle to rid herself of the detritus, she noticed more webbing coating the hem of her shift. She pulled up her clothing and angrily batted away the fibres. Her leggings kept her warm and modest as she did.
This predicament was likely down simply to neglect. She hadn’t been able to take care of herself at night as she usually did, not sleeping so close to Sasha in the wagon bed. She wouldn’t be able to do so tonight either. She could take that time here and now, if only this place wasn’t so filthy. Sam was aroused, but she had standards, unlike her travelling partners. Leaping into bed with anything that had a hole to exploit.
Sam did not usually think of her friend Marie when she handled herself in the moonlight. That wasn’t the nature of their friendship. She thought of boys. Lovers past, even the faceless phantom whose touch she recalled from her apprentice days. The one she’d never been able to fully remember. And celebrated local boys too, like the younger prince of High Tower. He had a renowned appetite, and Sam would have willingly fed him if he gave her the chance. And those pictures served her well in the tempering of her libido.
But Sam would have to clear her mind if she was to write to Marie without unintentionally making her tone romantic. Perhaps she could afford to sit down in the cobwebs and bring herself to climax, since her need was so great. She could think of Jayce, since he was so handsome. Looming over her bedroll downstairs and taking sweet care of her. Or maybe Elliot, if she was truly desperate. He did… He did have nice eyes.
She knelt down on the floor and snuck her hand up her skirt and into her leggings. Yes, Elliot would do, since she really was desperate. In her imagination, Sam imagined pinning him down and teaching him something new about the female form. His eyes would look lovely, widely staring up at her. Worshipful, perhaps. Yes, that would be perfect.
His hands on her waist, handling her in the dark. Bracing herself against the shelves to keep herself from toppling under his unrelenting thrusts…
Sam slipped off her knees as her mind bounced suddenly in this novel direction, and she was forced to catch herself on the dusty wall with one hand. That fantasy hadn’t been about Elliot. That had been a memory of her mystery partner, the one she’d met as an apprentice. The face that never materialised. Nothing to do with Elliot at all…
Unless…
She slipped again. Sam turned with alarm as her wrist was yanked up the wall. The tight force was powerful enough to almost bring her up to her feet. When Sam tugged against the cord holding her in place, another around her ankle snapped up and pulled her off the floor entirely.
Sam shot upwards. She was held in place by numerous threads around her limbs and her waist, and the strength of her ascent left no room for argument. She opened her mouth to scream. But just before she hit the ceiling, a heavy, warm body fell against her rising back. Sharp, rigid limbs encased her all along her frame and hugged her tight. And around her shoulders, a more familiar, fleshy pair of hands, covering her mouth.
“Shh!” purred a voice beside her ear, wetting her skin with condensation. “No words! Stay silent, and come with me!”
Sam writhed. She shook and tore and against her captor, but their many-legged grip was unrelenting. The voice giggled, a girlish sound, as its owner pressed itself more closely against her.
“Struggle is pointless!” she insisted. “You are mine now! I will take good, good care of you, if you only stay silent and listen!”
Sam was yanked through a hole in the ceiling that hadn’t been there when she’d entered. She found herself in the chill of the hostel’s attic. Beyond the angled walls, dire rainfall cascaded against the tile and masked the sounds of her struggle. She could feel her heart giving out, and tears marked the corners of her eyes.
“Shh…” The insect began to turn her about in its grip. Sam’s legs became tangled in a new, thick strand of sticky webbing that held tight around her. “Shh… This will be simple, if you let it be.”
The face of her captor was revealed in the lamplight of the room below, and Sam did everything she could to scream. She was a young woman, perhaps in her early twenties as Sam was, with thick, raven-black hair braided into ornate order in a cascade down one side of her face. She wore a white gown, little more than a sheet with a hole cut out for her head, which was tied under her arms and bust with the same cord that had trussed Sam. Her cheeks were round, and her lips were a charming shade of purple like an exotic paint. She was quite lovely.
But that was ignoring her eyes. The woman had four eyes, two on each side, which were black as jet and without a visible iris. Long eyes with folded tips, narrow and pretty but unmistakably alien. And her canine teeth were long and thick enough to push open her mouth into a permanent smile and lisp her sing-song voice.
The arachnid winked two of her eyes at Sam as she continued to turn her about in her many legs. She spun Sam around at speed, her palms over her mouth at every available opportunity. And soon, Sam was a bundle of web at the spider’s mercy.
“There.” The monster lowered her down to the floor of the attic on her line. Under the hem of her gown, Sam saw black fur coating a giant, arachnid abdomen, the source of her long legs. Two smaller legs, bent like hands at prayer, were fixed at her waist, and these manipulated the line that had captured her.
The spider loomed over her. When she landed on the wood atop Sam, her fall was graceful, marked by six clicks as her sharp limbs made contact.
“I am going to let you speak,” giggled the spider. “Do not call for help yet. I do not want to kill you, but I will if you put me in danger. Is that well?”
Sam stifled the sob caught in her throat. Blinking her wet eyes, she nodded.
“Very good!”
Her human hands left Sam’s lips. For an instant, Sam considered shouting for Jayce, who would be patrolling nearby. But then she recalled the click of the spider’s legs on the wood. Sharp, strong. More than enough to puncture her chest. She whimpered in the dark, but she said nothing.
The spider reached down and brushed at her tears. “This will be over soon,” she whispered. “All I need is food. I am very hungry. Once I have fed, I will leave you alone.”
“P-Please,” Sam spluttered. “Please d-don’t eat me. I d-don’t want to die.”
Spider’s thumb paused on Sam’s cheek. “Eat… you? Why would I eat you?”
“B-Because… you are a monster! A-A predator!”
“But I don’t eat humans. We’re too alike for my stomach, see?”
The spider grabbed the hem of her robe and lifted, flashing Sam her breasts. As if that proved anything. They were nice, though, their roundness complementing the flat plain of her tight stomach.
“Your friends have food downstairs, and I want some,” said Spider, returning to modesty. “When I know you will behave, you will call down to the boy I can sense marching about the corridors. He will see that I can kill you, and he will collect food for me. Then I will eat, still holding you prisoner. Then I leave. Easy, you see?”
Sam tried to keep her manic laughter under control. At least she wasn’t going to be eaten herself. That was a wonderful relief. And it did sound like a suitable deal. If a bit of jerky, which Sam didn’t even like anyway, was all they had to pay to go on their way, then…
Hold on. Hadn’t Sam been here before?
“You don’t like the plan?” asked Spider with a tilt of her head.
But Sam wasn’t listening. She was thinking of Ilvarith Forest, the Mercury Fang. They had needed food too, and Elliot had negotiated a clean transaction between government and vagrant. One that hadn’t needed any of them to act as hostage.
And if Elliot of Layman could do something like that… then surely Sam could do even better!
Sam sniffed deeply to rid her nose of snot. She tossed her head to remove some stray, red hairs that had drifted into her vision. And when she set her eyes on Spider anew, the creature leant up and away from her, seeing the difference in her eyes.
“You wish to negotiate?” Sam asked in a low voice. “I acknowledge your opening offer. But I will not engage in trade with a partner who refuses to view me as an equal.”
Spider’s smile faltered. She began kneading her hands together in front of her chest.
“If you wish to talk plans for my freedom and your feeding, then you must first let me down. And may I remind you,” she added when Spider made to interject, “I have the power to help or destroy you. Both here and now, and when I meet your Demon Sorceress on the morrow. You are better off trusting me.”
“B-But…! I am hungry!”
“And I will help you. But first, you must let me free.”
Sam was lowered slowly back into the hostel chamber. Spider’s purple lips were pursed with uncertainty as she untied her victim and helped her back to her feet, even brushing down her nightdress for her.
“Thank you.” Sam stood straight and tall. She denied the shaking of her legs. Spider still towered over her, and her sharp legs shone metallically in the lamplight.
But still, so nervous! Sam had only needed to bluff a little, to quote the name of the Demon Sorceress, and the tables had neatly turned. It was perhaps not as much a surprise as it felt, since Sam was an educated and skilled negotiator. But still a shock, to see this massive monster, now blushing and fidgeting, brought to heel.
Sam stuck out her hand. “I am Sam of High Tower,” she said. “May I have your name?”
Spider took her hand gingerly. “I am called Tomi.”
“Very good. And thus, we are now on equal footing. We may begin properly.”
Tomi frowned across all four of her eyes, and she began stroking at her long braids of black hair. “Does this mean you will give me food, or no?”
“I may. I can travel downstairs and collect some for you from our supply. Then I can-…”
“N-No, you can’t leave!” Tomi said, stamping one arachnid foot on the wood. “If you go, you will call for help and your friends will kill me!”
Sam folded her arms. “You will simply have to trust me.”
“No! This is a bad negotiation! You can’t just go away!”
“Even if you can sense me through your threads, the way you are sensing Jayce? Very well,” Sam amended, raising her hands when Tomi’s pouting escalated. “I was being ambitious, clearly. You are right. What if I were to leave something here as collateral?”
“Collatal?”
“So that if I don’t come back, I will have lost something precious. My belt and writing set will suffice for that.”
Tomi glowered down at Sam’s little stack of parchment, her portable quill and inkwell. “It’s precious?”
“Very. It was a gift from a dear friend. I would hate to lose it.”
The smile Marie had given her on handing her that belt, however, had been the real gift. How Sam’s heart had fluttered.
“Fine. Yes. I will keep the tools here, and you will go and get me some food. And!” Tomi lunged a point at Sam’s face as if worried she would instantly vanish. “And! You will stay here and eat with me until I am full! You won’t go while I eat! Or you might get your friends to kill me!”
She wasn’t likely to sleep anyway. Not with the Demon Sorceress coming with the sunrise. Sam nodded.
“A fair deal, Tomi. May we shake on it?”
“You will really stay?”
Sam laughed. It was hard not to, but poor Tomi blushed under the teasing.
“If we shake on it, my honour demands that I follow through,” she said.
Tomi took her hand once more and shook, this time more firmly. She even managed to smile again with her fanged mouth.
“Come back soon!” she said.
“I shall. And Tomi?” Sam asked at the chamber door. “What sort of food do you eat? What should I be fetching?”
Tomi beamed. “I like sugar!” she said.
* * *
“Can’t sleep?”
Elliot’s mind snapped back from another waking nightmare. In this one, the Demon Sorceress had realised he’d put his shirt on back to front and was laughing at him, laughing as she set the world on fire. With a hiss of breath, he rolled onto his side.
Sasha was facing him from her own bedroll, resting her head on her arm. The two of them were alone in the dark. Jayce was out on patrol, and Sam was working on their strategy for tomorrow, or something. And the two horses in the corner didn’t count. Elliot’s eyes, now well used to the gloom, picked up the scar-accented smile of Sasha, her bright eyes and uneven spikes of blonde hair. The shape of her collarbone above the neckline of her shift.
When Elliot didn’t respond right away, Sasha began wriggling closer towards him like a sideways worm. She didn’t stop where Elliot had anticipated she would, even overlapping her blanket with his. When she settled herself again and let out a breath, Elliot felt it as warmth on his face.
“Because of tomorrow?” asked Sasha. Despite their isolation, she kept her voice low in obedience to the night.
“I still don’t think we’re ready,” he replied in the end. He knew Sasha, and the night made them co-conspirators, forcing their intimacy. “I don’t even know what I’m supposed to say to this Demon Sorceress, if she’ll even give us the time of day. We need more preparation. We need to know more about what’s waiting for us.”
He rolled onto his back and sighed up at the ceiling. “At this rate, the Accord is doomed.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t say that,” Sasha chuckled. “You’ve let the princess get into your head. Yes, what we’re doing is important. But if you can’t get a stubborn megalomaniac to surrender to the Accord, and we end up in another Demon Lord’s War, that won’t be on you. There’s only so much we can do, you know? After us, there’s soldiers and that to carry on the fight.”
“But maybe this isn’t about the Accord,” Elliot continued. “Maybe our role tomorrow is to talk down a scared woman with nowhere left to turn. Maybe we’re the last hope she has at redemption. And that is on us.”
“Hey.” Sasha slipped her hand out of her bedroll and rested it on Elliot’s chest. “That’s such a weird thing to say. Do you know that?”
“What?”
“Seeking reconciliation with the Demon Sorceress. At best, she’s a woman you don’t know. And on top of that, she’s the daughter of the fucking Demon Lord. And you want to be friends with her?”
Elliot met her big, bright eyes. “Y-You don’t?”
“It’d be nice,” said Sasha, shrugging her shoulders. “But I wasn’t even considering it before you said that. You’ve got a seriously weird view of the world, Elliot of Layman. And that’s without ever setting foot outside the city before now.”
He could feel heat in his cheeks, so he turned away again, and Sasha chuckled. She stroked her hand soothingly over his chest.
“It’s why the castellan was so sure about including you on this quest. It’s also why I’m not worried about what happens at the Dungeon tomorrow. ‘Cos if anyone can bring the Demon Sorceress around, it’s you. Not Sam, though I have no doubt she’ll help. But you can do it. And if she doesn’t listen, that’s on her.”
Elliot let out a breath from his lungs. Her confidence was warm and cosy like a good bedroll. But the pressure to prove her right was a weight on his chest that he wished he could shift.
“You wanna know what I do when I can’t sleep?”
He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. Sasha slowly retracted her hand from him, and her smile curved into something coy and feline. Elliot gulped.
“I think I can guess,” he said.
Sasha laughed. She slapped his arm. “Get out of the gutter, boy! I was gonna say breathing. Look at me.”
Elliot turned his head. When this made his neck ache, he rolled onto his side so he was facing her.
Sasha took a deep breath. She placed both hands on her chest and demonstrated the inflation of her lungs. Elliot watched, enrapt.
“Deep, steady breaths are like spells you cast on your own body,” she said. Her voice was low and peaceful, devoid of the mischief of earlier. “You visualise the sigil and fill it with breath. And your body makes it come alive. Here. Imagine a box.”
Elliot closed his eyes and did as he was told.
“I want you to run your eyes over one edge of the box,” Sasha coaxed. “And as you do, breathe in. Don’t stop until you reach the corner.”
He did. When his lungs began to tickle, unused to being so full, he pushed through.
“Now move down the side and breathe out. It’s the same length, so it should take just as long.”
Elliot obeyed. He tried not to get distracted when his breath gusted over Sasha’s face and made her giggle.
“Along the bottom edge… Now up the side…”
Elliot’s mind wandered. Inside the box of his imagination, he thought of home. The city of Layman-upon-Waters. The box in which he existed, until leaving for the Dungeon. As he took his long, regular breaths, he thought of the Office of Municipal Integration. How was it getting on without his oversight? Was Madam Lantern keeping an eye on things? And his father, Thaddeus. Was he planning on joining the march north, or was he staying at home? Elliot hoped the latter. He was an old man, no longer a famous crusader. He should be wrapped up warm in the Castle walls.
So many people he had left behind. People he missed. People who were counting on him to return…
He opened his eyes. Sasha’s face was close, and her smile was warm.
“How was that?” she asked.
Elliot smiled back. “I kept thinking about other stuff. It didn’t really work.”
“Yeah, it takes practice. But keep it up, and you’ll be knocking yourself out on command in no time.”
“Thanks, Sasha,” said Elliot. “I’m glad you’re here.”
She said nothing to this. She met his eyes, and she chewed her tongue. Then, attention fixed on him, she wriggled closer towards him.
“Since that didn’t work,” she whispered, “and since you really should be sleeping… why don’t we try the other thing I do when I can’t nod off?”
Her nose brushed his. He could taste her breath on his lips.
“I think you know what I’m talking about,” said Sasha.
Light from a lantern washed over them. Elliot jumped out of his skin, but when the panic cleared from his vision, he saw Sasha calmly leaning on one hand under her bedroll. Her smile suggested nothing was amiss.
“Welcome back, Princess,” she said.
Elliot turned onto his stomach to watch Sam cross the chamber. Her gait was stiffer than he remembered. But if she’d been working, maybe sitting on the wooden floor, some muscle ache was no surprise. Fortunately, Sam paid the two of them, their scandalous proximity, no heed. She crouched beside their supplies and began digging around in the foodstuffs.
“Midnight snack?” teased Sasha.
“Oh, um. Y-Yes.” Sam held two bundles of sugary travel biscuit and some dried fruit under her arm. It was quite a hefty ‘snack’. “Yes,” she said, “my preparation needs more time. I shall be back before long.”
“Are you taking care of yourself?” asked Sasha as the auditor made to leave again. This time, the guard wasn’t smiling. “You really should be sleeping.”
“And I shall. In my own time. Thank you for your concern.”
Sam paused at the open doorway. She turned, then cast a sudden glower down at Elliot.
“You should heed your own advice,” said Sam. “This is the time for sleep. Nothing else. Understand?”
Sasha laughed. She rolled onto her back and put her hands on her stomach. “Aye-aye, Princess.”
She was still chuckling when Sam closed the door behind her. Elliot let the music of her laughter echo about the dark corners of the room. He let himself grow drunk on her light-hearted mirth, so at odds with the hammering of his heart. Eventually, Sasha sighed, then fell silent. The silence was heavy with tension.
“So,” whispered Elliot. “Wh-What were you saying?”
“Huh? Oh, nothing.” Sasha rolled over and faced away from him. “Too intense a workout for you, I think. And Sam’s right. You should just go to sleep.”
Elliot blood pumped. “A-And if I can’t?”
“Then tough. Good night, Elliot.”
His cock was throbbing. His mind was whirling. But he wasn’t thinking about the Demon Sorceress anymore.
“Good night, Sasha,” he whispered. “Thank you.”
This time, his imagination was a lot more pleasant.
* * *
Dear Marie,
You will not believe what is currently occurring in my vicinity. I honestly have not the words to describe it to you.
Sam’s eyelids fluttered as Tomi’s fingers dug through her hair. The woman truly was a marvel. Her human hands eased out the tangles in her ginger locks and smoothed them luxuriously into order. Then she fed them through the sharp pair of arachnid limbs by her waist which, by the feel of it, were braiding her hair into an ornate pattern to match the spider’s. It felt remarkable, and Sam was sure she’d look lovely when the spider was done.
Tomi’s two huge front legs were arched over Sam’s shoulders. Without letting up her pampering, Tomi stretched out one leg and stabbed it into a dried fig lying on the open packet. The spider retracted her leg with graceful dexterity, and Sam heard satisfied chewing behind her shoulders. With a fond smile, she returned to her letter.
I shall have to explain all of this on my return to High Tower. For now, let me suffice to say that my grandmother was wrong to teach me that all creatures that dwelt in dark were our enemies. Some of them are rather charming.
Tomorrow, I head out to meet with the Demon Sorceress, and I can only hope that she is this hospitable. If so, our quest will be at an end before we know it. Then I can return to you, to share all that I have learnt while away from you. I look forward to another of our long nights together, wrapped up warm in the dormitory living room as if the only two girls in all the
Sam grunted her frustration and let her head fall slack at her shoulders. Fortunately, Tomi released a measure of her hair from her four limbs to allow the motion, and it didn’t tug at all. Sam balled up another of her failed letters and tossed it into the corner of the room. She’d gotten distracted, and the wording had once more descended into romantic nonsense. She’d not be done by sunrise at this rate.
“Don’t worry, Sam,” said Tomi, resting a hand on her shoulder. “I understand. Words are hard, but you will overcome them.”
“Thank you.” Sam pulled another of her dwindling sheets out of the compartment on her shed belt and smoothed it out in front of her. “Do you have many friends, Tomi?” she asked as she began again.
“Oh, no. I was the last of my brood to open my eyes. All of my siblings were already gone. Mother was old, and she died when I was still young.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It was long ago,” said Tomi with her fingers once more in her hair. “She taught me all I needed before she died. And she said, ‘Tomi, you must go and find a male to lie with you!’ So, off I went.”
So earnest. Sam held back her snigger and asked, “Have you found any males yet?”
“Only two, and…” Tomi’s shiver could be felt all the way up the strands of Sam’s hair. “They were unpleasant. Small, spiteful boys. I didn’t enjoy lying with them.”
Sam chuckled. “Sounds enough to put a woman off men for good.”
“Hm. I would still like to find a good one. A good male would be a lot of fun. Do you know any good ones, Sam?”
“I shall let you know. Is that why you seek the Demon Sorceress? You believe she will have recruited males of your species?”
Tomi’s hands slowed. “I don’t know. But I feel a pull to go north over the river. Even if there are no men with the Demon Sorceress, I have to see what waits of me.”
Ana of the Mercury Fang had said the same thing. Sam wondered what this phantom tug felt like, for it to pull so inexorably.
“Why are you asking about males, Sam?” asked Tomi. “Is it because your Marie is a male?”
Sam turned to regard the sitting spider over her shoulder, and Tomi flinched backwards.
“You read my letters?”
“W-Well, you were gone for a long time.”
Sam narrowed her eyes. “And why do you think Marie is male?”
“Oh, I-I don’t know.”
“Tomi.”
The spider wriggled back and forth on her huge abdomen. “You talk to him like a lover. I-I assumed.”
Sam sighed. So, she’d picked up on it too. “Marie is a girl. I am attempting to write her a platonic message, but I seem to be in the wrong headspace. As you correctly deduced, my wording is overly romantic for speaking with a friend. That is why I am struggling.”
Tomi dragged herself forward with her big front legs until her warm body was pressed against Sam’s back. Resting her hands on Sam’s shoulders, she stretched out one leg and skewered one of the scrapped drafts from the edges of the room, then opened it up over Sam’s head.
“It’s cute!” said the spider.
“I am not intending to be cute. I wish to be platonic.”
“Hm. Why?”
“Why? Because I am not… a-attracted to Marie. I would hate to give her the wrong impression.”
Tomi stroked Sam’s hair with one hand, leaning her head forward and resting her chin on her opposite shoulder. “Are you sure?”
She could feel her face heating. “I believe I would know if I was… interested in women.”
“But if you keep writing to Marie like a lover,” said the spider, “then maybe your heart sees her like a lover.”
“My heart is wrong.”
“The heart is never wrong. Sam…”
Tomi leaned in and nuzzled Sam’s neck. The tickling made her smile, but she still tried to push the spider away.
“Sam, if you like women, it isn’t a bad thing,” said Tomi. “Women are very nice. I think so. There are many reasons to like them. Why not try and like Marie as a lover? See if it fits you.”
She swallowed the anxious lump in her throat. “I… don’t know how to do that.”
It was very warm in Tomi’s embrace. The touch of her fingers drew Sam out of herself. And she remembered sitting under the bedsheets with Marie on a summer night in High Tower, sharing her secrets with her. Revealing the vulnerability of her desires for the future. And Marie’s hand, holding hers, had made her feel strong. Her gorgeous eyes had witnessed her without judgement. If she had kissed Sam in that moment, Sam wouldn’t have pushed her away.
“Sam…” whispered Tomi against her ear. “We can try it, if you like.”
“Try what?” she murmured.
“Try to be lovers. You and me. And you can see if you like it. I want to.” Tomi’s sharp arachnid forearms clamped around Sam’s hips. “You are very beautiful. I want to try with you.”
Tomi looped her arms around Sam’s shoulders, and she kissed her neck. A moan escaped Sam’s lips as she was squeezed and licked by the spider. She could feel the sharp points of Tomi’s fangs on her skin, insistently pushing but never breaking the skin.
“I want to…” Tomi repeated, and she began to trail her human hands across Sam’s collar.
Sam reached up and took her wrists. Tomi paused her stroking, but only for a moment. When she tugged gently against Sam’s weak restraint, Sam let her go. And before she could think to resist further, Tomi’s hands were on her breasts.
“A-Ahh…”
The spider’s fingers teased her nipples through her nightshirt, and Sam wriggled her in many-legged embrace. When her bare feet slipped on the wood, her thighs rolled together and exacerbated the sensitive flesh between them. She felt moisture beading her sex and staining her clothing.
The heart is never wrong… She was right to say so. Sam drowned in the warm embrace of the spider. When she played Tomi’s body across her imagination, her strong legs and gorgeous hair, her shining eyes and the teasing mounds of her chest, she knew she was too far gone to resist any longer.
Sam wanted her. She wanted Tomi to touch her more. She wanted the intimate attention of a fellow woman. And the wave of relief that overcame her on giving in to her heart was so strong, so intense, that she didn’t even consider that Tomi wasn’t human.
Sam held to Tomi’s hand over her breast, and she gave herself up to the woman’s pleasuring. With her other hand, she held herself up on her seat on the floor. And that left Tomi free to snake her fingers down to the hem of her skirt, to wriggle inside her leggings and stroke the sensitive flesh of her thighs.
A cry broke from Sam’s lips as Tomi made contact with her wet slit. She was grateful when the spider transferred the groping hand on her chest to her mouth to keep her silent. Best the others didn’t discover what she was doing. Sam anchored herself in Tomi’s arms, held tight to her partner with her hands, and rode her fingers for all she was worth.
She was remarkable. The same care that Tomi had used to braid her hair was now being used to seek her clitoris and draw lighting from within. When Sam moaned out a rhythm beneath her palm, Tomi pressed her fanged lips to her shoulder and matched the rhythm with her own sighs. And when Sam bucked her hips against Tomi’s touch, Tomi plunged her fingers inside and began to handle her at pace.
Sam danced around the edge of unconsciousness. The spider’s powerful pleasuring dragged her along a path towards inevitable climax. So much more satisfying than when she touched herself. So lovely to be outside of her own control for a change. And Tomi’s precise care honed in on her sensitivity without ever becoming painful or strange. It was so very, very easy to trust that she knew what she was doing.
And yet… And yet, this wasn’t quite right.
“Wait!” Sam groaned behind Tomi’s hand. She gripped her wrist at her crotch. “W-Wait…”
Out of the corner of her vision, Sam could see Tomi’s arachnid eyes watching her with open concern. “You don’t like it?” whispered the spider.
“I-I do,” Sam panted. “You are m-masterful. But…”
She turned about on her bum and leaned her shoulder against Tomi’s chest. She looked up into her eyes. “How am I supposed to learn if I am attracted to women if you will not let me see you?”
Tomi’s lips parted in a silent gasp. She stroked Sam’s hair with her fingers and held her waist with her prayerful spider forearms.
“I know!” she said. Then she rose, dragging Sam with her.
Sam laughed as she was lifted easily into the air. Tomi’s human hands tucked under her legs and the small of her back and carried her like a princess, and she clicked her way over to the wall where Sam had originally been snared. Giggling with anticipation, Tomi turned to face the wall sidelong and, with a shudder of her arachnid body, shot a sticky rope of silk across the wood. Then another, and another. Sam laughed at the lewd imagery of her act. But she stopped laughing when Tomi abruptly lifted her in her arms and pressed her back against the sticky wall.
Sam hung on the entrapping threads, her arms and legs dangling. She was quite securely trapped. She laughed as she playfully fought to free herself from the strong lines. There would be no escaping this.
“Now,” said Tomi, “see me.”
The spider came upon her. Her thick, black abdomen pushed against her legs and hips, and her human upper body pressed over her chest. She took Sam’s hands and interlocked their fingers. Her silky, black hair tumbled between them, brushing against Sam’s equally ornate red.
It didn’t take a genius to see what she was intending. Sam watched as the spider pulled her gown over her head and tossed it aside. She gazed on the spider’s pert breasts with a newly unshackled lust. Then, Tomi reached up Sam’s nightgown and tugged down her leggings. Sam didn’t have time to react to the chill air, as Tomi’s warm hands were on her thighs. Her spider forearms gripped her under her bum and raised her legs. Then she pushed between them. Her thick, hairy lower body rubbed against Sam’s bare vagina, and Sam gripped Tomi’s wide waist with her knees.
Sam gasped as Tomi began to hump her. The spider dragged her coarse flesh over Sam’s slit. And higher up, her fanged face was convulsing with hissing pleasure. Sam stared up at her in wonder.
“Is that…?” she asked as she was rubbed. “I-Is that part of you…?”
“My womanhood, yes,” Tomi grunted. “It’s touching y-yours. They’re… k-kissing!”
She tried to giggle, but the sound broke open into a desirous yelp. Tomi leaned deeper against her trapped partner, her face in Sam’s hair and her arms pressed into the wood on either side of her. And she began to rut in earnest. She ploughed Sam’s slit with her own. And it felt marvellous.
“Y-You’ve done this before,” groaned Sam beneath the haze of pleasure.
“Mm-hmm,” Tomi confirmed.
“Y-You really like women, then?”
“Of course. There is a-a lot to like.”
“And it doesn’t bother you?”
“Hmm?” Tomi asked, chewing her ear.
“It doesn’t bother you that you are… interested in both men and women?”
Tomi ran her hands down Sam’s entangled body. She kneaded her breasts, scratched her stomach with her nails and then squeezed the excess of her thighs.
“Why would it bother me?” she moaned. “I like both with different reasons. I appreciate both at the same time. It’s nice…” she added with a sweet giggle. “It’s a nice place to live.”
“A-Ah, I see. Tomi?”
“Hmm?”
“Would you kiss me?” asked Sam. “I’d have done it myself by now, but I can’t reach you.”
Tomi’s four eyes regarded her. Her lips parted to reveal more of her sharp fangs. And, holding tight to her with her limbs, she leaned in and pressed her mouth to Sam’s.
Kissing the spider was a curious sensation. Her mouth was a little wider than Sam had been anticipating, her lips drawn to the sides by the size of her fangs. There was a rigidity behind her lips that was almost uncomfortable. But her taste was the residual sweetness of dried fruit, and her tongue was wet and insistent between her lips. Her breath was warm on Sam’s face.
And it didn’t feel so strange, to be kissed by a woman. Perhaps she should have kissed Marie that summer night after all. Perhaps that also wouldn’t have been strange.
“S-Sam…” Tomi broke off the kiss and increased the pace of her rubbing. She took Sam’s hair in her fingers, then eased her face into her chest.
Sam revelled in the exquisite softness under her lips. She kissed and tongued Tomi’s breasts with wild abandon. She would have loved to touch them with her hands as well, but her partner’s pressure had sealed her arms against the webbing and trapped her there.
Meanwhile, Tomi was a raging dervish against her vagina. The spider grunted and hissed as she rutted against her. It was easy to recall that she was a monster like this. A monster, strong and powerful, devoid of the common grace of humanity. And Sam was loving every moment of it.
When Sam tightened her legs around her partner, Tomi began to keen. Sam’s hair grew wet with her condensation, and the spider’s sharp voice was nigh deafening against her ear. Sam was dimly aware of discomfort on the soft flesh of her inner thighs.
“Are you going to come, love?” she somehow managed around the beating of the woman’s breasts against her face.
“S-Sam! Sam!” came the response. “Oh, Sam!”
“Please come!” Sam gasped. “Please come! Tomi!”
With an impact that shook the wall, Tomi thudded into Sam and was still. Her body shivered as she came against Sam’s folds. Her hands gripped her hair tight. And only after long moments of silence did she shriek. The spider cried into Sam’s hair, and her vagina released a lubricating flow against Sam’s clitoris.
Tomi pulled free of her with visible difficulty. Panting and sweating, she slipped a hand down Sam’s body and up her skirt.
“N-Now you,” she said.
Sam didn’t argue. She grinned as Tomi returned her fingers to her pussy and began to aggressively penetrate her. Tomi’s insect forearms held her tight as her soft, human fingers had their way with her.
Sam stared up at the woman. She recorded every detail of her feminine form. She ran her eyes over her breasts, her lips, the sleek braids in her black locks. The redness in her cheeks and the moisture on her brow, both marks of effort from loving her. And she smiled. Tomi was beautiful. It was such a wonderful relief to be able to admit that.
She came not long later. Sam’s legs, held apart by Tomi’s sharp spider forearms, quivered as she orgasmed. She bucked her hips against Tomi’s fingers and rode the wave of climax with gusto. When she realised she was being loud, she clenched her teeth and shut her eyes. Still, the song of release shook the air just as it shook her lungs. Sam heaved, writhed and gasped. And eventually, she deflated.
When she opened her eyes, Tomi was staring down at her exposed crotch. Her four eyes were creased with concern. And when the spider sheepishly let her down from the sticky thread on the wall, she realised why. Sam hissed with pain as she examined the red, irritated skin of her inner thighs, made raw by the coarse hairs of Tomi’s abdomen.
“S-Sorry,” said the spider. “Usually, I only have sex with… th-thicker women.”
“It is well, love. I have some cream I can apply.”
“So, you had fun?”
Sam brushed her skirt down around her hips. She retrieved her discarded leggings in one hand, her previous letter draft with her other. How silly it now felt to worry that Marie would see her words as being romantic. When Sam would want nothing else!
“Tomi, dear,” she said with a beaming smile, “that was positively enlightening.”
* * *
Elliot groaned as fresh sunlight spilled across his face and roused him from his slumber. He threw an arm across his eyes to defend himself from the light, then sat up in his bedroll.
It was morning. Somehow, he had fallen asleep. That would explain the manic, lewd dreams he’d had. Dreams of fur, green skin, sharp teeth and more besides. His poor cock throbbed with morning wood.
He glowered in the direction of the open window. Beside him, Jayce was sleeping clumsily in his own bedroll, arms akimbo and mouth wide open. Willow and Chartreuse, their two horses, were rousing from their seats in the corner.
And before the sunlight, Sam. Having pulled the makeshift curtain free of the un-boarded window, she stood with her hands on her hips and faced the new day. Elliot heard the hiss of an intake of breath, then a deep, satisfied exhalation. Then she turned.
“Awake, Elliot!” said Sam, beaming as brightly as the sun at her back. “A grand day is before us!”
He stared. Sam’s rosy cheeks and brilliant, blue eyes were full of warmth and life this morning. The incredible woman knew just where their feet would take them today, and she wasn’t concerned. In fact, she was excited!
Elliot smiled back to his partner. If she was this confident to face the Demon Sorceress, then who was he to doubt?
“Your hair…” he said. “You look lovely.”
On any other day, this would have been a foolish thing to say. But this morning, it felt appropriate. And Sam smiled as she stroked her braided, red hair. The looping, interlocked threads made a dizzyingly intricate pattern. Who’d known that she had such a miraculous skill with her hands?
“Thank you,” she said.
Was she blushing? Elliot could only hope. Still, he had to wait under his bedroll for a further ten minutes, ignoring requests that he help Sam prepare for the day, before his erection went away.
laymenstory
Ewan Stone 
Leave a comment