Shadowland. Spider World 06 by Colin Wilson

The most frightening moment occurred when lightning struck the cliff face twenty feet above them, and started a miniature avalanche. As stones bounced past him and alarmed birds flew up from below, Niall clung to the rail with both hands. He was relieved that the lightning had not struck the rail.

Steps finally led them into a cave entrance on a level with the emerging stream. Again, alarmed birds flew out past them. Tool marks on the walls and ceiling of the cave showed that it was not natural, but had been cut out of the rock. Niall scrambled ten feet into the darkness, then sat down on the floor, his back against the wall, relieved to be able to rest. He was breathless, and his knees ached. Gerek sank down beside him. Even the spider, whose head and back were scraping the ceiling, was breathing heavily.

The captain suddenly reacted with a hiss, staring into the depths of the cave. This was dark, since the pale blue daylight failed to reach more than a few feet beyond the entrance. As Niall gaped with horror, a huge figure loomed out of the darkness.

Gerek said: “Don’t worry — it’s only the guard.”

But what astonished Niall was that the naked moog, looking like some great marble statue, had no head. He found himself laughing simply to release nervous tension.

“He seems to have lost his head.”

Gerek shone his light on the moog, and Niall saw that the creature had one eye, in the center of its chest. This was staring at them unblinkingly.

Gerek said: “That is to make him more frightening to intruders.”

Niall asked with astonishment: “Do you have intruders?”

Gerek grunted. “Sometimes people try to escape to the upper world.”

The words startled Niall. He had taken it for granted that the moog was there to guard the northern entrance of Shadowland from possible invaders. The notion that it was also there to prevent Shadowlanders from escaping came as a surprise. “Escape” seemed to imply a prison.

But he only had to look at Gerek’s cheerful, open face to feel reassured. Such a person could never be involved in cruelty or oppression.

With Gerek leading, they squeezed past the moog, whose vast bulk occupied most of the narrow cave. Then the tunnel made a left-hand turn, and the roaring of the water became deafening. A dozen feet farther, and they found themselves on a kind of bridge that had been carved out of the rock; the stream rushed below them, creating a continuous flow of wind. Always fascinated by rushing water, Niall halted to gaze down, and was interested to see that the stream divided into two. Half of it flowed under the bridge, toward the point where it emerged from the cliff, while the other half plunged down into a kind of sinkhole.

“Where does it go?”

“To the lower levels.”

Across the bridge, the path turned uphill, and they were soon walking with the stream on their right. There was a drop of ten feet to the surface of the water. This cave, whose ceiling was only a few feet above their heads, obviously had been carved out of the rock by the water, which had gradually widened and deepened it.

In effect, they were walking on a riverbank that ascended toward the surface. The water had worn it smooth underfoot, but rock projections above meant that continued vigilance had to be observed if they wanted to avoid striking their heads. But finally a point came where the walls of the tunnel stretched above them, and they could walk comfortably upright. It was no longer a tunnel but a kind of underground canyon, where the river had to make its way around giant rocks that had collapsed from the ceiling. No longer reflected off the walls, the roar of the water became less deafening.

At one point the river plunged over a waterfall fifty feet high; but a tunnel with steps had been carved into the rock, and they climbed up as if inside a tower, and came out where the water flowed over the fall. Niall preferred not to look down; this ascent was beginning to make him breathless.

The spider, with his ability to see in the dark, had been walking ahead, probably impatient of the slow progress of the short-legged humans. A few hundred yards beyond the waterfall, Niall sensed the captain’s excitement, and caught his first glimpse of daylight far above them. At the same time, he sensed the spider’s flash of alarm, and shone his flashlight into the darkness. The massive form of another headless moog, even bigger than the first, was standing guard by the side of the path. The solitary eye in its chest followed them as they went past.

A quarter of an hour later, daylight was streaming down into the canyon, whose precipitous dark sides showed why it had been called the Black Gorge. There Niall caught his first glimpse of the sun in two days. It was early afternoon in the world above, and the sunlight was reflected on the river, which was now flowing peacefully into the gorge. Niall had never thought that he would feel so glad to see the sun again, and to feel its warmth on top of his head. Suddenly he understood why this valley to the north of Shadowland had been called the Vale of Thanksgiving.

Half a mile farther, and they had emerged from the canyon into a broad meadow that was, in effect, a saddleback between two peaks. The grass was damp — evidently it had recently been raining — and sent up a light mist. The air was fragrant and remarkably warm for October, and full of the sound of birds. Niall found himself laughing spontaneously out of sheer exhilaration. He could imagine how Sathanas and his companions had felt when, after their first winter underground, they emerged into the spring sunshine.

The warmth and sunlight had already caused his tiredness to dissolve away, and he walked with long strides as he followed Gerek through the soft grass toward the lower of the two peaks, which faced north. This was not more than five hundred feet high, and when they stood on top of it, he was able to look down onto a steep slope that plunged down to a valley a mile below. The wind from the snow-covered peaks to the north was chilly, and made Niall shiver — he was covered in perspiration — yet this green valley between the two peaks trapped the sun, so that its temperature was that of a summer afternoon.

The captain had taken the opportunity to fold his legs underneath him and drowse in the sunlight. When they descended again, Niall and Gerek did the same, flinging themselves down on the damp grass; Niall lay with half-closed eyes, soothed by the sound of birds.

A few yards away, two sparrows were quarreling over a worm, stretching it out like a piece of elastic, when a larger bird swooped between them and stole it. The glossy black feathers and yellow beak seemed familiar, and when it settled on a bush a few yards away to eat its prize, Niall probed its mind; it was, as he thought, the raven. But it obviously felt some doubt about approaching him with another human being lying within a few feet. And when Gerek suddenly yawned and stretched, it flew away.

Gerek sat up, and pointed at the other peak.

“Are you ready for another climb?”

Niall would happily have stayed where he was, but heaved himself to his feet and followed Gerek.

This ascent took longer; but when they reached the top, Niall understood why Gerek had taken them there. Down below to the south lay fertile slopes with orchards, vineyards with trellises, and patches of brown that were obviously cultivated fields.

Gerek said with pride: “This is the larder of Shadowland.” He pointed to a wooded hillside across the valley. “And that is our wood supply.”

“Do you burn it?”

“Oh no!” Gerek looked almost shocked. “That would be a waste. Besides, we have plenty of coal and electricity.”

A river glittered far below, and Niall could hear the distant lowing of cows. The opposite mountainside was covered with sheep. Between here and the next peak, there must have been thousands of acres of rich farmland.

Gerek said: “Now you can understand why people sometimes try to escape.” The breeze blew his hair across his eyes. “You can also see why the karvasid wants to make a truce with the spiders.”

Gazing across the valley, Niall could not even glimpse the southern part of the gray mountains; Skollen was a hundred miles away, and too many tall peaks stood between them. This secret place, with its meadows and orchards, and with mountains to the east and west, was a perfect refuge. No wonder the Magician had been so delighted when the spiders built the Great Wall and guaranteed that his haven should remain undiscovered.