The anguish communicated perfectly to Krek. Nothing short of being soaked in water, and then set ablaze horrified him more. The coppery fur on his legs bristled, and he felt his body tensing to meet the challenge of anyone attempting to put the torch to him.

“The humans did it,” came another, lighter voice. Krek recognized it as female. Not quite as lilting and lovely as that of his delightful Klawn, but still pleasant. “They drove us into the caves. We fear for our hatchlings.”

“From the extent of your webs, there must be at least twenty of you,” said Krek. He neglected to count hatchlings. Only adult arachnids were considered in populations since the younger spiders tended not to have long life-spans. The ones that weren’t eaten often fell off the webs and died or met with other maiming misfortune.

“Only fourteen now.” Krek mentally added about fifty hatchlings, of which five or ten might survive.

“Why do you hide in caves? This is not some new hunting technique, is it?”

“They might return at any moment. They are awful.”

“The humans? Yes, they are all of that,” agreed Krek. Then other pieces of this distressing picture came together for him. “These humans. Are they all dressed in a like manner? In uniforms?”

“You refer to the woven webs they hang around their frail bodies?” came the female’s question.

“Yes. These are the most pernicious of the humans. A mage of great power and evil commands them.”

“They do wear similar uniforms,” she agreed.

Krek paused for the appropriate length of time, then asked, “Might I enter your cave?”

This time a polite delay elapsed before a simple, “Please do, Webmaster.”

Krek ducked down and waddled into the cave. His eyes took several minutes to adjust to the dimness, then he pushed on ahead, careful not to touch any of the webs decorating the walls. He saw no one, nor had he expected to. The voices had echoed from a long ways into the cavern. Krek continued on until he came to a vast chamber.