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[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ] something with eight limbs. Not that they would matter if the spider got those red fangs into him. Even if this particular arachnid's venom wasn't very toxic, the shock alone might be enough to kill. Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html The attacker's intent seemed to involve throwing as many legs as possible at its prey in order to distract him while the fangs bit home. It was possible the spider wouldn't expect an attack. If the eight limbs were confusing to Jon-Tom, then perhaps his human length and long legs might equally puzzle the spider. Besides, the best defense is a good offense, he reasoned. So he ran at his opponent instead of away from it, keeping his eyes on his target as he was supposed to and trying hard to remember. Up on the opposite foot, kick out with the right, left leg tucked under the other. Agile claws reacted quickly, but not quickly enough. They 163 Alan Dean Foster scraped at Jon-Tom's neck and arms. They didn't prevent his right foot from landing hard between the eight eyes (there was no chin to aim for). The impact traveled up Jon-Tom's leg. He landed awkwardly on his left foot, stumbled, and fought desperately to regain his balance. Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html It wasn't necessary. The spider had stopped in its tracks. Making mewling noises horribly reminiscent of a lost kitten, it sat down, rolled over on its back, and clawed at its face. The leg movements slowed like a clock winding down. Jon-Tom waited nearby, panting hard in a defensive posture. The leg movements finally ceased. Green goo dripped from between the eyes, which no longer shone in the lamplight. The spider who'd entered the cell first scrabbled over to its motionless, larger companion. "damme," he breathed in disbelief, "you've killed jogand." Jon-Tom caught his breath, frowned. "What do you mean, I've killed him? I didn't kick him hard enough to kill him." "dead for sure, for sure," said the smaller spider, turning a respectful gaze on the man. Blood continued to seep from the wound. Fragile exoskeleton, Jon-Tom thought in relief and astonish- ment. Come to think of it, he'd seen a lot of clubs here. They'd be very effective against recalcitrant arachnids. In- stead of a glass jaw, the spider possessed a glass body. Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html Or maybe he'd just slipped in a lucky blow. Either way... He glared warily at the remaining pair. "No hard feelings?" The first spider gazed distastefully down at his dead com- panion. "jogand always was the impulsive type." They were distracted by a clattering in the corridor. A Spider they did not recognize approached the webwork silk bars. He was not the skinny one with all the ribbons. As they watched silently, he poured the contents of a pear-shaped 164 THE HOUR Or THE GATE bottle on a section of the bars. They began to dissolve like so much hot jelly. Another figure emerged from the shadows to stand just behind the jailer: Ananthos. "i am terribly sorry," he told them, waving many legs at the cell. "this was done without higher orders or good knowledge, the individual responsible has already been Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html punished." "Blimey but if we didn't think you'd sold us over!" said a relieved Mudge. Ananthos looked outraged, "i would never do such a thing, i take my responsibilities seriously, as you well should know." Then he noticed the corpse on the cell floor, looked back into the cell. " 'Twere 'is wizardship there," said Mudge, indicating Jon-Tom. Ananthos bowed respectfully toward the human. "a good piece of work. i am sorrowful for the trouble caused you." A pathway large enough to allow egress had been made in me bars. Ananthos' companions moved aside as the prisoners exited. The small spider tried to follow Clothahump out and was Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html promptly clobbered behind the head by one of the guards. The spider shrank back into the cell. "not you," muttered the guard, "warmlanders only." "why not? aren't we part of their party now?" He hooked foreclaws over the rapidly hardening new bars two of the guards were spinning. "you are common criminals," said Ananthos tiredly. "as you must know, common criminals are not permitted audience with the grand webmistress." The little spider hesitated. His head cocked toward Jon- Tom. "you're going to see the grand webmistress?" "That's what we've come all this way for." 165 Alan Dean Foster "then we'll stay right here. you can't force us to come!' And both spiders drew back behind the bleeding corpse of their dead companion, scuttled for the tunnel leading to their [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ] |