The Spider's Parlour
Miriam was warned not to stray from the path. The hunters and the traders in the village all told her that the road through the Tanglewood had its own hazards at the best of times, and wound through the forest as though a line randomly drawn on the map. But it remained the safest way through the Tanglewood, oft travelled though seldom by those venturing alone. Most stuck together in groups, many going in caravans that all but ensured safety, as few predators or creatures, or occasional brigand, what few were willing to brave the woods and stay just off the road to avoid detection, wished to tangle with a more heavily defended company as it passed through.
Miriam thought she could slip through swiftly with her cloak, a cotton weave laced with many fabrics and dyes that made it almost impossible to see amongst the shrubbery should she go dead still.
She thought it would be a simple affair to cut through the forest, especially since she spied a path that branched from the road. Not one well travelled, but a path all the same, perhaps abandoned out of fear or forgotten entirely.
Now the auburn-haired woman was lost in the woods. She still had the path, but she had passed by a break in the route some time back, and when she began to fear her attempt was more foolish than calculated and doubled back, she could not find the other side of the path.
Afraid of getting even more hopelessly lost, she felt her only option was to keep following the path before her.
The sun was still up, but that didn't offer her much comfort; the thick canopy of the leafy-green trees all around her filtered much of the sunlight, leaving only the odd golden strand to paint motes of pale yellow on the ground, shifting and winking in and out as the leaves of the trees shifted in the nigh-imperceptible breeze.
The trees were tall and straight, though their tops branched broadly, and their limbs often crossed over one another, though never did they touch directly.
It was the bushes and the brambles that snaked between the trunks along the ground that made traversing the Tanglewood difficult. There were patches and routes between, but they were few and untrodden. The occasional clearing could be spotted off between the trees, but never did the path Miriam was on take her to such a clearing.
She could only hope that she'd eventually emerge on the other side of the woods and find the main road again, or at least be led to a place she could shelter in come night, and resume her crossing on the morrow, or attempt to retrace her steps.
She understood now that the Tanglewood was a genuinely hazardous place, and not just because of the disorientation it inflicted on those that strayed from the safe roads; on more than one occasion, she had heard strange noises that did not seem like birdsong or the call of woodland critters. And several times, she thought she saw shapes skulking between the trees in the distance, but the veiled gloom of the forest made it hard to make out whatever she saw.
It only encouraged her to move swiftly, and hold her cloak close. She did not wish to be caught in the open, so to speak, come nightfall. And it would only grow dark much swifter as the sun dipped towards the horizon, the trees and thick shrubbery obscuring what light tried to penetrate the depths of the Tanglewood.
She kept her pace up, grumbling to herself, and reaching into one of her pockets to fish out some hard crackers lined with wax paper. Her attire was simple; flaxen shirt dyed green and dark cotton pants that went to her ankles, with some simple leather shoes somewhere between black and brown, depending on what light one saw it in. And of course, her camouflaged cloak. Hardly a cloak of invisibility, but certainly the next best thing. It also kept her warm and in wetter climes kept her dry.
Right now, she only hoped it would keep her hidden from unfriendly eyes, a mere green shape moving amongst the trees that might be lost the moment a potential threat came investigating. And if it was a bit more attentive, fail to notice her if she stayed still and kept to the greenery.
Though she would have to keep her gaze lowered; her blue eyes were quite striking, bright and visible from a distance. It was one of her most recognisable features, given her build was nothing special. Feminine and shapely, yes, but not as voluptuous as some of the more alluring women of the village, particularly those that earned their keep at the tavern.
Miriam wasn't one to flaunt herself. She was like many other women in the village, hard workers. And woe be to any who believed the women, no matter their occupation, of her village would suffer any slight.
Right now, however, Miriam was not feeling particularly brave. What lurked in these woods, likely did not care much of the ferocity of humans.
As she finished her crackers, she spied something odd up ahead; thin strands of light that glinted in the occasional sunbeam that pierced the woodland canopy.
As she neared, she realised they were indeed strands, but not of light; of silk. Threads of the stuff hanging from tree to ground. Ahead, more webbing was visible, thicker strands that better caught the light, or became too thick to be all but imperceptible.
Fortunately, none of it crossed the path, but it made Miriam nervous; she did not know what created them, and she could not see any spiders or other silk-weavers clinging to the webbing or nestled amongst the trees.
She forged on, however, hoping that nothing would ambush her or give her grief.
She walked for some time more, and her nerves were only growing more frayed as the webbing around her grew far thicker than should have been normal. It was like the woods had been overtaken by hundreds of spiders, thousands even, of great size. But still she could not see any.
She began to contemplate retreat, that perhaps risking the break in the path to find the first stretch was a less insane idea. She did not like the way the webbing changed the lighting around her, pale and diffused. It was so thick, curtains of the stuff gently swayed in the breeze, whilst thick bands bound together trunk and branch and ground.
But then she saw a clearing ahead, a good, wide space with what appeared to be an old campfire circle dead in the centre.
Thinking that perhaps she may have found some place safe to rest, she entered into a short jog to the clearing; it was covered in dried, dead leaf litter, the amber and brown detritus rather thinly layered, but it exposed no spots of dirt or grass beneath or between each overlapping leaf.
There were some old metal pots arrayed around the edge of the clearing, and some clay jars lined up against a fallen tree to the left. Directly ahead was a great boulder that she had not noticed thanks to a thick curtain of webbing on the path leading to the space. The rock slightly overhung the edge of the clearing, and Miriam spied an old hide spread for sleeping on.
Beyond that, there was not much else to the clearing, but she did notice that it was open to the sky... mostly.
Rather unnervingly, the encroaching webbing had formed something of a canopy over the clearing, allowing sunlight through, but diffused and pale, casting an eerie hue throughout the space.
She wondered who could have made the space, used it... especially since she saw signs that it had been visited recently, what looked like human footprints leading away from the hide bedding.
She pondered this, until she heard a sound that made her almost yelp, and certainly jump a little.
She looked up at the boulder, having heard a scrabbling sound against it, but saw nothing.
She backed up towards the campfire, holding her arms close to her chest as fear began to take hold. Perhaps she should've tried finding her way back after all.
She looked to her left. And then to her right. She went still, and felt dread in her. Then she whipped around behind her.
Nothing.
As far as she could tell, she was alone. Perhaps her mind was playing tricks on her.
Then a shadow fell on her. She didn't notice it at first, in the diffuse lighting, but once cast over her eyes, her heart began to race.
Somehow, she knew it wasn't a cloud.
She slowly turned her head upwards, and her blood turned icy.
Above her, hanging upside down from the webbed canopy, was an enormous spider; it was at least double the size of a horse, if not counting the legs... with the legs, the spindly limbs of chitinous blue-black carapace certainly kept that ratio and more, each leg carefully picking its steps.
It was smooth, almost glassy, but it did not reflect the light from this angle, with strange white and red markings adoring its bulbous but slightly angular thorax.
But instead of a head with slathering mandibles, there was a long extension to the body that Miriam could not immediately identify, silhouetted against the light through the webbing... until it bent back and revealed itself to be the upper torso of a beautiful if monstrous woman.
She was naked, with a hefty bust that hung towards the ground as gravity tugged on her globes, but they nonetheless possessed a youthful pliancy.
She had black hair that hung far, and were she upright, would have lightly framed her face and reached the small of her back, just above where her human body met the spider's.
Her skin was pale, but it was contrasted by dark markings that started from where her flesh melded with chitin, running up the sides of her torso, framing her breasts, and ending just beside her eyes... which were a deep red, not unlike the legends of vampires, though she lacked the slit pupils those tales spoke of. They had the same hungry light, of course, and above her eyes were three sets of much smaller, gem-like protrusions that looked like extra, if simpler, eyes, only enhancing her spidery nature.
Her lips, plush and soft, were parted to reveal less inviting teeth, sharp and complemented by four fangs, the two on her upper jaw much longer and thinner, like needles.
Her mouth was twisted into a devious grin, which only filled Miriam with terror. The spider woman's ears were pointed, though not as long as tales of elves spoke of.
But there was no tale that told Miriam what
this
creature was. Terror and beauty in one monstrous form.
She couldn't help but step backwards involuntarily, prompting the spider woman to chuckle deviously.
