Chapter 6

Dash learns more abouther role in this strange new world

We travelled to this mystery destination in complete silence, each lost in our own thoughts. I was afraid. I guess that reading all those stories about heroes hadn’t made me any more like them. All I wanted to do was run, far and fast, away from it all. Not very dignified, I know. But let’s face it, I was never cut out to be a savior. I didn’t even know what I was supposed to be saving everybody from. Presumably Hugo was going to show me, but honestly the whole air of mystery thing had gotten pretty tiring. I needed some answers.

After about ten minutes on Hugo’s back, we began to climb. By this point, the web was well behind us, and we had entered a forest buzzing with crickets. It was sort of annoying, but they’d all be eaten soon anyway, so I couldn’t really complain. Now the sloping was leading is into more mountainous terrain with huge, jagged rocks and dark, forbidding caves. A fantastical difference from the very civilized web that we had left behind.

Hugo stopped in front of the biggest, most forbidding cave I had yet to see. “Really? Oh come on, this is where this mystery that you want to show me is? Typical,” It was straight out a fantasy novel. The cave’s mouth was huge and ragged, like sharpened teeth, and I could already hear rats scuttling in its dark depths.

“I don’t want you to be afraid,” was all that he said. That mantra was getting old fast, and it really wasn’t helping me any.

“Ok, let’s do this thing,” I took a deep breath and slipped off of Hugo’s back. The cave mouth may have been big, but it was not big enough for a person on top of a two hundred pound spider. We would have to walk separately.

The cave was just as horrible as I had imagined. It was pitch black, and it smelled wet and stuffy. I could still hear the rats, but luckily Hugo’s presence seemed to be keeping them at bay. Strangely, I could feel no spider webs. I was not complaining. We marched on in silence, the pitter-patter of Hugo’s many legs somehow just a little bit comforting.

            After what seemed like an eternity, I noticed a change. The air had steadily been getting colder which I suppose you could expect seeing as we were travelling underground, but now there was something else. It was silent. When we had first entered, I could still hear crickets, but those noises had died away a while ago. Now even the rats seemed to have fallen silent. Our footfalls echoed through the cave. It was an eerie feeling. We came to an abrupt twist in the tunnel, one that seemed to have some sort of light beyond it, and Hugo put a hairy arm on my shoulder.

            “We’re almost there,” he whispered. “We have to be very quiet now. Do not speak louder than this, and stay right next to me. I shouldn’t even be doing this, but I have a lot of explaining to do. I owe it you,” With that, he stepped around the bend with me trailing right behind.

            Turning the corner, I stopped dead in my tracks, my heart suddenly pounding uncomfortably hard against my chest. The sight before me was grotesque. And terrifying. I saw a sort of snow-globe-like glass cage looming a good ten feet in the air. It was filled with that sort of luminescent goo that I always associated with pickled  brains and bad horror films. That wasn’t the scary part though. The scary part was floating in the goo.

            It was a spider. Now you’d think that by this point I’d be used to ginormous spiders (I was standing right next to one). But this was different. It wasn’t just that this one would have dwarfed Bartholomeus. That was bad enough. But there was also this strange sort of malevolence coming from the grotesquely drifting beast. While Hugo and Eleyn were scary in their pure alien-ness, the creature before me gave me a different kind of fear. The kind that raised the hairs on the back of my neck and made my heart leap even without presenting any kind of threat.

            That was when I noticed the crack. It ran across the globe diagonally, not very big and not leaking anything, but ominous in its very presence. It was not jagged, and most very definitely not natural.

            “Uh, Hugo,” My voice sounded rough and squeaky, echoing horribly in the cavern. “That crack is supposed to be there, right?” Okay, I know. When in the history of ever has a crack supposed to have been somewhere? But I was desperate, already feeling my heart sink.

            Hugo had just been standing there, quietly letting me take in the sight before me, giving me time to process. Now he looked at me. It took him a moment before he spoke. He was probably dumbfounded by the stupidity of my question, but when he finally spoke, his voice was kind.

            “No, of course there shouldn’t be a crack. Or at least, my kind wishes it wasn’t there. But it is there, and it is growing, so I have a story to tell you,” He paused, settling himself on the cave floor, all eight eyes gauging my reaction. Somewhere in my gut, I got the feeling that this was one story that I never wanted to hear. But I couldn’t bring myself to stop him. I was already in too deep.

            “The story begins a long time age. Well, a long time ago by your standards. It begins in the middle ages. I think that you noticed the distinctly medieval feel of our architecture, culture, even our names. I’m sorry that that was confusing, but I was unable to tell you the truth at that point. Well, I still technically shouldn’t, but we’re already in too deep. You see, giant spiders do not live like humans or even like other spiders. We can live for hundreds and hundreds of years, practical immortality unless we are killed. That was where the strife began. A long, long time ago, we lived in harmony with humans and most other animals. Granted, we never mixed much, and our webs were usually deep in the country, but still there was peace.”

            “But then, the humans discovered their obsession. They wanted immortality. It is human nature to crave continuation, a never-ending cycle. You say your God gives you further life in heaven, but you wanted life on earth. You sought the philosopher’s stone, the elixir of life, the basis of your precious alchemy. But you did not find it. What you did find was us. We lived longer than your kind, and some of the people became convinced that we possessed a secret. Some way to prolong life indefinitely. Of course, this supposition was unfounded. It was pure biology that kept us alive, but neither my kind nor yours had the scientific advancement to prove this fact.  The debates among both species became heated. I was very young at this time, barely hatched, so I knew no other world. Eleyn tried to get us all to agree, to reasonably discuss this confusion among our species’. But just like there were radical humans, some of the spiders wanted to take things too far. They were bitter and angry about the disrespect with which humans had been treating us. They wanted us to rise up and control the people, weave them into our webs, entice them with the promise of immortality and then, just when they thought they’d won, enslave them. You can see how this ideology created controversy. The radicals were cast out. Ademar Lepsi was their leader. He marshaled forces, intending to take over the human population of Earth, but Bartholomeus, who was already a respected leader among our kind, intervened. Civil war among the spiders broke out. Both sides garnered heavy casualties and even some humans were killed in the crossfire. Eventually though, Bartholomeus prevailed. He intended to exile Lepsi, but the damage had already been done. The people were angry at us for this uprising; they thought us savages. Ironically, it was they who burned the records and drove us from our webs. We went into hiding at that point, and have remained there ever since,” Hugo stopped, eight wistful eyes looked through me to some forgotten place, so long ago. Part of me didn’t want to disturb him, but his story still left me with questions.

            “I’m sorry to hear about that. I can’t believe that humans don’t even know about this, about you, anymore. It’s really sad, actually. But I still don’t understand what this has to do with me, or that thing,” I gestured to the grotesquely floating spider in front of us.

            Hugo seemed to snap from a sort of daze. He looked over at me, his expression unreadable. The pause before he spoke again was long enough that I was tempted to repeat the question, but he had obviously heard me. “Dash. How do I even begin? Remember the story you saw in library in which you saw yourself?” How could I forget? “Well, it was a prophecy,” I nodded, not really surprised. I had thought the same thing the very first time I’d seen it. Clearly, I read far too much fantasy.

            “I already told you that you are considered our savior. You were obviously confused, but the thing is, the prophecy made a prediction,”

            “They often do,” I half-smiled. Hugo looked at me oddly, but I really couldn’t just turn the snark factor on and off at will now, could I?

            “Anyway, the prophecy predicts a terrible time for the spiders, something we have been dreading for centuries. The return of Lepsi,” Hugo’s many eyes traveled to the glass cage, and I understood.

            “Why did they keep him like that? Why not kill him? It would be a mercy to him, and it seems that it would save the rest of us a whole lot of trouble,”

            “You don’t understand. The prophecy predates even Ademar Lepsi. No one even knows who first made it, but that doesn’t matter. It has been among our most treasured possessions for millennia, and it is very clear. You must be the one to kill Lepsi, once and for all. In 24 days, the cracks will spread, and Lepsi will be freed once more. You must be ready to meet him,”

            I felt myself go cold all over. A numbing sensation, starting in my toes and spreading throughout my body. It might have been shock, but I somehow wasn’t surprised. I think some part of me had known all along. These giant, terrifying, benevolent creatures had not brought me here for fun. I had a destiny. I was thrust into a huge, intricate story, and for once I was not glad. Heroes in books were heroes. They may be rounded, dynamic characters, but in the end, they were never people. I was a person, and I was afraid.

            “No,” I said, my voice echoing tinnily through the caves. “No. You can’t do this to me. Why are you dragging me into this? This is your war. I had no part in it. I’m grateful for everything you’ve done for me, but I can’t help me. You don’t need to follow some stupid prophecy. Just kill the damn thing!” My voice was growing louder, anger the best tonic for fear. I had to be brave. Was it brave to refuse to help? To stand up? Or was it cowardly not to fight? “Don’t make me a part of this, Hugo! I’m not some pawn to be used. To be sacrificed for the greater good. I’m a person with a will of my own. Don’t make me do this,” My voice was dropping again, breaking treacherously. I had to be strong. For once in my life I was standing up for myself and it hurt, but I had to do it. I had to keep going. I had to ignore the shock on Hugo’s face.

            And suddenly I was angry at Hugo too. Angry at him for lying down, for letting his friend get roped in to some dusty old prophecy that would lead, in all likelihood, to her death. He was just like my dad.

            The thought sent a shockwave of hurt through my body and I recoiled. Why did no one in my life ever do anything? Even in crazy fantasy worlds, everyone just let things happen to them. Nothing ever changed. Why did nothing ever change?

I spun to face the spider whom I had begun to call my friend. “You’re a coward,” I spit. “A coward. You just lie down and take it. The whole thing. I’m your friend. And you went along with the master plan all the same, fattening me for the slaughter. How could you? How could you expect for me to just come in here and save you and your kind when you try to keep me in the dark? When you give me no options? You’ve been away from humanity too long if you thought that would work. I AM HUMAN. And if that means anything, it means that I need choices. And you can’t make me die because it is written in some silk palace!” I was backing away, the words tumbling out for the second time in a week, unable to stop. Both guilty and righteous.

            “No,” It was nearly a whisper. Hugo was not my father. He wouldn’t yell. “Please, Dash. I’m so sorry. I need you. Just…let’s talk about this. Maybe we can, I don’t know,” The admission that he didn’t know, that he couldn’t, wouldn’t , stop it was what did it.

            “It won’t change anything. Nothing changes. Ever,” I wasn’t angry anymore, not really. But I could feel the pressure of tears in my chest, and I was stuck in a mountain with the weight of a species on my shoulders, and suddenly everything was too small. Fight or flight. I chose what I always did.

            Stumbling, tripping, fumbling in the dark, I ran back the way I’d come, the heavy patter of my feet a lonely reminder of my cowardice. I ran. I always ran. Everyday, from everything, from everyone, I ran. And I would never stop.

            When had I started running? As I bumped into walls, careening towards sunlight, I knew. My mom had taught me to fight and to think. She was the Athena of my world. Battle and wisdom. I thought back to her as I remembered her best. Wild ginger hair just like mine crowding into her face, pushed back by safety goggles. Her mouth open wide, laughing. Not a care in the world. It’s a rare thing, to be both wise and happy. Mom could do it. Somehow she could sit in her chemistry lab, examining air particles, seeing all the nasty stuff that is literally all around us, and still be happy. She had the power to make everyone else better too. Dad and Will and I. She knew just how to make each of us laugh. No, I had never run away when mom was alive. When I ran on the track team back then, I was running home.

            I was out of the caves now, still running, higher and higher. Up into the mountains. Away from everything except the guilt. I could never outrun that. I knew I wasn’t guilty for Mom’s death. I’m not that stupid. An electrical fire in a poorly constructed lab was not my fault. That was obvious. I could not control that she had decided not to go out for coffee with my dad that day. That she wanted to finish her newest experiment. Her last experiment.

            I was to blame for one thing, though. I was to blame for running away. After I rushed out of the house with my brother and his brand new permit, driving illegally to the scene of the accident, I did a terrible thing. I did not look at my mother. I knew she was there. Right there on a stretcher. Dad and Will were crying, huddled in close to her body. But I couldn’t look. I was only 13, but I should have done her that honor at least. What did I do instead? I started running. Fast and far. Away from the body, away from the fire. Away from my mother.

            I’ve never really stopped.

            The uphill run was catching up with me. I slowed to a walk, looking around, feeling the déjà vu of just a week ago. This time it was definitely not the shady streets of New York into which I had run. It was beautiful. The mountains looked out onto a myriad of blooming fields interspersed with the greenery of forests. For a moment I thought about how utterly impossible it was that this was really under New York City, but then I just didn’t care.

            I found a nice rock to sit on and just stared. From here, any spiders were just pinpricks in the distant web, and the only sound was the rush of wind on rocks and my heavy breathing. At first my entrance into this strange and terrifying new world had been something of a miracle. From runaway on the subway to honored guest in just a few minutes. But like anything in life, my escape had not come without a cost. Now I had this prophecy hanging over me, a harbinger of my own untimely demise. I tried to convince myself that shirking off my destiny was not cowardly. I was standing up for myself. It wasn’t running if I did that, right?

 It wasn’t my fault that this strange race of spiders had placed the hope of their species on the shoulders of a sixteen year old girl. They could protect themselves. Besides, I’d never really believed in an overall plan. In destiny. Only books have proper plot arcs.

            My arguments were sound, but I just couldn’t seem to shake that niggling doubt. That feeling of selfishness for not sacrificing myself. It wasn’t logical, but brains so rarely are.

            My breathing began to slow as I gazed out over the mountains and fields, up at the ceiling (sky?) shrouded in darkness. It really was gorgeous. What would Ademar Lepsi do to it? Would it all be ruined in warfare. And what if he did win and become more powerful than before. Would he come to New York? It would be my fault. I couldn’t be blamed for being chosen, but now? Now I had a choice. If I didn’t at least try to kill Lepsi, it would all be my fault.

            “It’s a beautiful view,” I was so lost in moral deliberation that I hadn’t noticed Hugo’s padded approach. I started.

            “Uh, yeah. Ummm…look. In the caves…what I said…I’m sorry. I know you’re just the messenger of this whole prophecy thing anyway, and it’s not your job to defy your whole kind and like kill him or something. I shouldn’t have snapped,”

            Hugo gave me an odd look. He was silent.

            Flustered, I continued, “I guess I’ll try to do it. I mean it’s terribly unfair and I never would have chosen my life to go like this,” Would I? Didn’t I always want to be the hero?  “But I’ll do my best. You all have been so kind to me. Your web is so beautiful. And…I don’t know. I guess I just think it’s what I should be doing,” I finished, sort of lamely.

            Hugo stared for a moment longer. It was getting really awkward. Finally, he cleared his throat. “You don’t know how much this means, Dash. To me and all of my kind. You’re ridiculously brave,” My face colored and I ducked my head. His praise was far too high. “I mean it, Dash. I really do.” We looked at the mountains for a few minutes. I leaned against Hugo’s hairy legs, marveling slightly at how I was ever disgusted by them. For some reason, I wasn’t all that worried. I had just made a decision that could very well kill me, and all I could think was that giant spider legs are quite similar to recliners.

            The brain is a very strange place.

Author's Note

The last five chapters are completely unedited. Read and review at your own risk!