remonstration. "My point is we made our own decision to accompany her."
Which was true. Mephitis had come to them a fortnight before, while they sat drinking in the Inn of the Quixotic Muse, and asked them to accompany her on a trip into the Northern Lands. She needed to collect several natural products from which she obtained the ingredients for a number of the medicines, potions, poisons, and other drugs she created, that could only be found in the mountains that formed the western border of the Plateau of Leng. Medb she needed as a bodyguard, pure and simple, but several of the plants, mosses, lichens, and fungi she sought grew on cliff faces and steep mountain sides inaccessible to all but a master thief. She offered each a handsome remuneration, as well as the opportunity to plunder the ruins that dotted the plateau and its barrier mountain chains, but she did tax Morgiana's talents and ingenuity to the utmost. Still, thanks largely to her expertise, they were able to collect large amounts of everything Mephitis needed, except spider venom.
"Of course, Your Majesty," Morgiana joked.
Medb formulated a retort, but forgot it when the bird Teehar'owan came flying up the slope towards the small group, his gaudy blue, green, red, and gold plumage unmistakable against the drab surroundings. He circled them a couple of times, then landed on the head of the lead yak, between the horns, flexing his crest and long tail.
"Mistress," he piped, "the bridge is guarded by a spider!"
All three women studied the structure. "I don't see anything," Mephitis said.
But Medb was able to look more closely. "Where is it?"
"In the shadow of the right-hand column."
She spotted it immediately. "Ach, yes. About the size of a bull, I would say." It looked like a normal orb-weaver spider, except for its size. Its abdomen was large and bulbous compared to its cephalothorax, and somewhat oblong, while its eight legs arched high over its body. A pair of pedipalps, almost like a fifth pair of legs, sprouted from either side of its "face". Its base color was a vivid hue of purple, but it appeared mottled by a bold lace-pattern of indigo that dyed its legs and bordered its lapis-lazuli eyes. There were four pairs of those, the front pair being the largest, with the other three arranged in a box-like pattern on its "head".
Morgiana shook her head. "I still don't see anything. I wish I had your hawk-eyes. So, a runt then." Her tone suggested disgust. The Zoog growled softly in reply, but the women ignored him. Medb knew it wasn't the creature's small size that disturbed the thief, but its implication. If anything, a runt was more dangerous than its larger colleagues, including the colossi that lived deep in the mountains and crevasses of the plateau.
"It's going to be fast and agile, perhaps even a jumper."
"And it will be smart," Mephitis added. Though all Leng spiders were intelligent, the runts were the most keen-witted of all. They had to be, to escape being eaten by their larger brethren. "It may even know magic."
Suddenly the significance of the bridge's rope construction material dawned on them all, but it was Morgiana who voiced their collective conclusion. She turned to confront Medb. "It built the bridge, from its webbing."
She nodded slowly, but with a sly smile. "And therein lays its greatest weakness."
"I don't understand," Mephitis said, also turning to face her.
Medb favored her companions with a wicked grin. "I have a plan. Attend, and offer your advice."
The spider peered around the rock pillar he clung to and focused his huge forward-staring eyes on the approaching traveler, while his other three pairs kept watch on his surroundings. He had seen the bird circling above earlier, which he guessed acted as a scout, so he had expected travelers to come his way. When he saw the three figures appear at the top of the ridge, he clicked the fangs of his chelicerae together in eager anticipation as he gently drummed the ground with his pedipalps. Despite his size, he was in fact an old spider, having survived three migrations, including the one he had participated in. Nor was he at all dissatisfied with his choice of where to settle down. There were few passes through the mountains that separated the plateau from the lands west of Urg and Inganok, and they were beset by brigands and monsters, as well as the occasional spider. By making his pass accessible to caravans and solitary merchants, and making it a safe passage by keeping it clear of marauders, he ensured that he would have access to a steady supply of prey without having to expose himself to danger by actively hunting. And as long as he facilitated commerce, he doubted the local inhabitants would try to kill him or drive him off.
Of course, if he ate everyone who tried to cross his bridge, it wouldn't have been long before no one would come at all. As such, the true genius of his conception, or so he thought, was not the bridge itself, but the tolls he charged. He would accept anything that he could either eat or barter with for food, and if a band had nothing to offer him, he would then be free to take one of its number. Lone travelers were almost certainly doomed if they did not have an acceptable payment, but he was willing to bargain, provided the traveler could offer a strong incentive.
He felt puzzled when only one of the three started down the slope towards him, but he mentally shrugged, consoling itself with the realization that he could collect more than one toll. So he watched him approach until he came within a spear's throw of the threshold. He then jumped off the column and emerged from its shadow to place himself on the path. The traveler hesitated when he saw him, but after a moment tugged on his yak in resignation and trudged on forward.
Read the rest of the story [https://www.goodreads.com/story/show/345275-gruff-tolls].
From "Rhapsody in Orange"
The sight of Differel looking up from her desk stopped them in their tracks. She sat hunched over, leaning on her arms braced against the desktop. For a moment she almost looked like a zombie. She was haggard and disheveled, with heavy bags under her bloodshot eyes, her stringy, lifeless hair ragged and unkempt as if she hadn't showered for several days. It wasn't simply a matter of letting herself go; they had seen that before. It seemed indicative of a failure of will, as if she didn't care anymore. Eile glanced at Sunny, and from the look on her face she could tell she understood just how bad a shape Differel was in.
The aristocrat leaned back in her high-backed chair and rested her head against the padded leather. "What are you two doing here?" She looked and sounded weary, as if she had very little energy left.
"We haven't seen much of you lately, except in the Dreamlands," Sunny said as she closed the door, trying to sound airy, "so we just decided to drop by."
Eile decided to go along with her. "Yeah, Dracula was kind enough ta give us a lift."
She closed her eyes, as if the effort to get irritated was too much for her. "You two never were good liars. Aelfraed sent for you."
"Aw, cripes. Yeah, yer right, but he's worried about you. They all are, and now that we've seen you, so are we. Geezus, Diff, what's happened?"
She opened her eyes a crack. "That's none of your business."
Eile could feel herself getting angry, but she reflected that if she could a rise out of the blue-blood, that might snap her out of her malaise. "Like hell it is. We wanna help you."
Differel leaned forward and removed a cigarillo from the desk's humidor. Eile knew she used smoking as a defense mechanism, so the fact that she was getting one seemed a good sign. But she didn't like the way her hands shook as she lit it with her father's lighter.
"Everyone's been trying to help me." She stood in a slow, cautious manner. It was almost painful to watch.
"I don't need help." She walked around the chair towards the back windows, pausing for a moment to steady herself. "I need understanding and acceptance," she concluded before continuing on.
Sunny walked around the desk to be with her, and Eile followed. "That's what Eile meant," she said in a soothing tone.
She turned to face them, her visage grim as death. "No, you're like the others. You won't believe me either. You'll just laugh, or feign sympathy as you plot to have me committed."
Eile finally lost her temper. "Dammit, Differel, do we hafta spell it out, again?! We're yer friends! We're not gonna laugh at you, or question yer sanity; we will try ta help you anyway we can. But you hafta level with us. Now, come on, what's wrong?"
She gave them a desperate look, as if she really wanted to believe them. "I...don't know--"
A lilting, child-like voice wafted through the air. "Aw, go on, tell them." It was followed by a giggle.
Sunny whipped her head around trying to locate the source of the voice, but Eile was more disturbed by Differel's reaction. She went rigid, as if having a seizure, and bit off the end of her cigarillo, which dropped on the marble floor in a small shower of sparks. She squeezed her eyes shut with a grimace and jammed her fists into each temple.
"Who said that?"
Differel snapped to attention and stared at Sunny in utter disbelief. "You...you heard that?!"
"Wellllll, yeah, naturally," Sunny said, her eyes wide with wonder. "Who is she?"
Differel charged straight at her and grabbed her by both arms. "You really heard her?!" She shook Sunny hard enough to whip her hair around her head.
"Cut it out!" Eile said. "Let her go, we both heard it!"
Differel threw Sunny at Eile and backed away from them. "How do I know you're not lying? How...how do I know you're even real!? Maybe you're just more