Shadowland. Spider World 06 by Colin Wilson

The leatherlike skin of the giant’s feet, and the black toenails that looked as if they were made of some dark rock, showed that it belonged to the same species as the troll Niall had already encountered; otherwise they had little in common. The troll of the sacred mountain looked as if his face had been hacked out of wood by an inexpert sculptor; this giant was far more human, with a bulbous nose and cheekbones, and a friendly face. The other troll had been naked and covered in hair; this one wore leather garments stitched crudely with thongs. The brown hair and beard suggested that he was still young, while a wide gap between his front teeth underlined the impression of good humor. Niall estimated that he was about twelve feet tall.

The giant was obviously dubious about the captain, not certain whether a death spider could be trusted. Niall suspected that he had had some unpleasant experience with one of them in the past.

Niall was still holding the crystal globe. The giant peered at this with interest, then held out a brown, leathery palm that was more than a foot in diameter.

Niall placed the ball in it. He expected the giant to look at it closely; instead, he closed his fist round it, and held it close to his ear as if it were a ticking watch. After perhaps a minute he handed it back. Then suddenly, the giant was communicating with Niall as if speaking in human language.

He was asking where Niall and the captain came from. Taking only a moment to adjust to the wavelength of his thought, Niall transmitted an image of the spider city. The giant considered this, frowning, then asked where they were going. Since this was more difficult to answer, Niall raised his hand and pointed northward. Again the giant frowned, and his thought waves unmistakably conveyed the idea that this troubled him. Then he shook his head, and beckoned them to follow him.

Niall had already been wondering how these huge feet could negotiate the rocky stairway. Now he watched with amazement as the troll climbed as effortlessly as if he weighed no more than Niall. The captain went next, swarming up with an easy motion that made Niall think of an octopus. By comparison, Niall felt slow and clumsy, his limbs distinctly stiff, as he heaved himself painfully upward.

When he reached the top nearly half an hour later, he found the captain relaxing in the afternoon sunlight. To Niall’s surprise, the troll was nowhere to be seen. It took Niall several moments to observe a shimmer in the air that told him that, like the chameleon men, the troll had the power to make himself transparent. It had never entered Niall’s head that trolls had any such ability.

Niall flung himself down beside the captain, glad to give his aching knees a rest.

The troll asked: “Are you tired?”

Again, as with the chameleon men, it was the meaning of the words rather than words themselves that entered Niall’s brain. Niall answered that he was.

He failed to understand the giant’s next question, which seemed to be some kind of offer of help. Was he offering to let him stay there and rest? Or pick him up and carry him? But a moment later he understood, as his muscles responded to a rippling, electrical sensation that was as refreshing as plunging into cool water. It seemed to flow upward from the soles of his feet, and left him tingling with energy. He said with astonishment: “Thank you!”

The reply was a good-humored grunt, accompanied by the suggestion that it was time to move on.

As Niall went to retrieve his pack from its hiding place, he noticed that the captain was still relaxing on the grass; it was obvious that he had not received the thought-message. Niall had to ask him: “Are you ready?” before the spider heaved himself to his feet.

They walked due east, following the cliff top for more than a mile before it began to slope down toward the plain. When they walked on soft, springy turf, the ground vibrated, and it was obvious that this troll was immensely heavy. Niall observed that when he stood on a piece of chalky rock, he crushed it flat.

Niall asked the troll: “Do you have a name?”

“I have been known as Mimas. Also as. . .” What followed was simply a meaningless sound.

From this, Niall gathered that, like most of the spiders, trolls did not have any use for names, since identity could be conveyed with a mental picture.

To keep abreast of them, Niall had to walk with a swinging stride that normally would have left him breathless, but which he found himself maintaining like a long-distance runner. He attributed this energy to the stress he had experienced during the past few hours, and the relief of being free again. Then, as they began the descent, his sandal caught on a root and his two companions halted while he retrieved it. As his bare foot touched the grass, the faint tingling sensation made him aware why the pace was not tiring him. He was receiving energy from the ground. So as they set off again, he pushed his sandals into the long pockets of his smock. It was not until they reached the valley, and the ground became hard and stony, that he put them on again.

After that the going became difficult. On this bare ground, the energy had ceased to flow. And compared to the broad southern valley that lay behind them, the narrow way to the north was strewn with boulders that looked as if they had been carried down from the mountains by some immense flood. It made Niall think of the Mighty Cheb’s story of the destruction of his army, and reminded him that they had just entered the territory of the Magician.

Now that they were sheltered by overhanging cliffs and the westering sun filled the valley with dark pools of shadow, the troll had allowed himself to become visible again. Even he had to pick his way carefully among rocks weighing a few pounds to boulders of many tons.

As far as Niall could see, the valley stretched bleakly ahead, with no sign of any cavern or hollow that might afford shelter. The cliffs to the east were also steep and flat, giving the impression of having been the bank of a water channel. But within a quarter of a mile of the valley’s entrance, the troll stopped and turned toward the western cliff where the quartz had split into a cleft that was full of rubble and debris. It looked as if some earthquake had torn the rock face apart, then closed it again so the halves overlapped. One corner of the dislocated lower slab vanished into a layer of blue clay.

The troll approached the angle where the two joined, then, to Niall’s puzzlement, turned sideways as if to squeeze through a narrow gap. He stepped to his left, then vanished. Niall, who had been watching closely, also turned sideways and took a step to his left, experiencing as he did so a curious sense of ease and confidence, as if receiving power from the quartz. A moment later he found himself in a narrow tunnel that sloped gently downwards. The troll was visible because he glowed with a faint blue light.

A moment later, as his eyes adjusted, Niall found he could see perfectly clearly.

Niall heard the captain’s voice in his head. “Where are you?” He turned to the troll. “He can’t get in.”

The troll pushed past him, turned sideways, and disappeared. Niall imitated his movement, and again found himself outside. It was rather like being caught up in a current of water.

The troll said to the captain: “Do exactly as I do.” But it was quite obvious that the captain could not hear him — either that, or simply could not understand. Niall suspected that he was hearing the same unpleasant crackling noise that caused him such pain when he first met the chameleon men. The troll made a gesture indicating “Follow me,” then turned sideways; a moment later he had vanished. The captain understood the gesture and tried to follow. But he found the rock barrier impenetrable.

He asked Niall: “Can you show me?”

Niall said: “Follow me and do exactly as I do.” He stepped forward, and found himself standing beside the troll in the tunnel. But the captain evidently had found it impossible to follow. His voice, reflecting his frustration, sounded in Niall’s head. “I can’t do it.”

Niall stepped outside again. As he did so, he could see what was wrong. The captain, like all spiders, had achieved all his higher functions — like speech and reason — through sheer willpower and self-discipline. So when he approached a problem like this, he automatically braced his will, and lost that instinctive relaxation that made it easy. Niall, on the other hand, was making use of an instinct that enabled him to penetrate the barrier as easily as breathing. It was simply a knack.