He stood and studied the array of webbing, then clacked his mandibles together four times to indicate his approval.

“We are pleased by your acknowledgment of our pitiful efforts, Webmaster,” said the small female spider.

Krek rubbed his front legs together in response while he looked her over. She was not bad looking-for a mere spider. Less than half Krek’s eight-foot height and not even a quarter of his bulk, she still presented a trim, sprightly figure. Her spinnerets carried geometric decorations pleasing to the eye and her leg fur had been neatly tended. She reminded Krek a great deal of his long-lost love, Klawn-only this spider was so tiny, almost fragile.

“We have never seen one so large,” spoke up another spider.

“For mere spiders, you have done well in spanning the vastness.” Krek lifted a midleg and pointed to the intricate patterns displayed in the cavern. “Such fineness of strand, such daring spans, such beauty. I am impressed.”

“Thank you, Webmaster,” the female said.

“I am Krek-k’with-kritklik, Webmaster of the Egrii Mountains on a world far distant along the Cenotaph Road.”

“I am Kadekk,” said the female. Krek noted the lack of status claimed. He bobbed his head up and down in acknowledgment. It seemed reasonable. She was only a mere spider and hardly in the same class as his Klawn.

“We are in exile in this cave,” moaned one of the other spiders. “Our Webmaster died a foul death at the hands of the silly humans.”

“The soldiers,” said Krek, “are the worst of the humans. A mage guides their hand in their hideous deeds.” He shivered lightly at the thought of being drenched, dried, and set afire. It was something Claybore’s troops would consider good sport. His mandibles ground together as he unconsciously wished for their commanders’ heads between the serrated jaws.