He found himself standing in a large cave, whose roof was perhaps fifty feet above them. As far as he could see, there was no other way out; the cave was virtually a cul-de-sac. But he was aware of its size only because he was “seeing” it through Asmak’s mind; like the lair of the Death Lord, it was so full of cobwebs that even the most powerful light could not have pierced its depths. Cobwebs stretched like vast curtains from the walls to the floor; others, with strands like thick rope, stretched across the ceiling. But these were not the casually arranged cobwebs that formed a network above most of the streets of the spider city; Niall sensed immediately that they had been created by an artistic intelligence of a high order, and that their strange symmetry had some profound meaning for the spider mind. Unlike the dust-covered cobwebs in the headquarters of the Death Lord, these looked new and sticky; they even carried the faint, distinctive smell — not unlike some vegetable gum — of fresh cobwebs. This place, he realized, was a kind of spider cathedral, a place of worship, and the cobwebs were its woven tapestries, constantly renewed as an act of homage.
Slight sounds from overhead made him aware that spiders were lurking there. Although the cave was in total darkness, Asmak’s familiarity with its geography, and his telepathic awareness of other spiders, created an illusion of a kind of gray twilight in which everything was clearly visible. He was able to sense that the spiders were all young — some even younger than Grel — and that there were about a dozen of them. Their youth was obvious because they were transmitting involuntary signals of excitement at the interruption of their lonely vigil; an older spider would have learned to restrain these signals. It was also clear to Niall that they were intensely curious about his own presence.
Asmak stood there silently for several minutes, waiting for this buzz of excitement to die down. Spiders always took their time in greeting one another — it was a point of honor as well as a natural instinct. During this time, Niall’s mind was able to explore the recesses of the cave. Running up the far wall he could see a kind of ascending ramp, not unlike a flight of steps, which had obviously been carved out of the rock. This suggested that human beings sometimes made use of this cave — for spiders, in spite of their weight, would have no difficulty scaling its uneven walls. He was also able to perceive a number of deep recesses in the walls, all at floor level, although these appeared to be empty. Since these were all of the same size, and at regular intervals, it was clear that they had been carved by human workmen.
Niall was puzzled. He had been expecting to meet some older spider who might be able to answer his questions about the great wall. In fact, it was obvious that none of the spiders present had passed beyond the age which in human beings would be regarded as puberty.
Asmak finally spoke. The message he transmitted was a formal one of greeting; after a decent interval, it was answered by the young spiders speaking in unison. This proceeding had the effect of finally blocking off the signals of curiosity that were still being transmitted by the younger spiders.
Asmak’s greeting, and the answer of the young spiders, had been an instantaneous telepathic signal, whose human equivalent would have been a bow or a handshake. Now Asmak deliberately spoke in human language — that is, in the type of signal that spiders used to communicate with human beings.
“The person I have brought with me is an honorary spider.” Asmak said “person” rather than “human being” because among spiders, “human being” was a term of contempt — like “pig” among humans. “He is also the lord of our city.” This statement caused a buzz of astonishment among the young spiders, and Niall inferred from it that they knew nothing of what had taken place in the past six months. This in turn implied that these young spiders had been living in this cold darkness since the days of slavery. Were they being punished? Or perhaps trained for some kind of priesthood? The latter seemed perhaps the most likely.
Asmak resumed: “He is also the chosen one of the great goddess, and therefore our master.”
For a few seconds there was total silence, unbroken by even a quiver of astonishment. Then Niall heard the rustling sound of soft, furry bodies descending on strands of web. A moment later he was surrounded by spiders who had lowered their stomachs to the ground in a gesture of homage. He stood there, feeling awkward and embarrassed, yet realizing that this was an essential part of spider ritual, and that he would be showing discourtesy if he allowed the slightest hint of his embarrassment to become apparent. As the moments lengthened, he realized that they were awaiting some gesture on his part. He therefore said aloud: “Greetings,” accompanying it with a courteous gesture of acknowledgment. The ritual reply — “Greetings, lord” — came back like an echo; it was followed immediately by the rustling sound of spiders reabsorbing their strands of silk, and ascending once more into their webs. As this happened, Niall felt his body pierced by a pleasant glow, as warm and delicious as a spring breeze, and realized that the young spiders were transmitting a message of respect and affection. His sense of awkwardness vanished, and was replaced by an answering warmth and affection. It was as if some barrier inside him had broken down, and he could accept for the first time that he was truly an “honorary spider.”
Asmak spoke again. “Do any of you know the history of the great wall across the Valley of the Dead?”
Niall was astonished by the question. How could these young spiders know anything of the ancient history of their race? In fact, the silence that greeted the question seemed to indicate that they found it baffling. But after a long pause, a voice replied from above him in the darkness.
“I think it may have been built in the reign of Cheb the Mighty.”
Asmak said: “Very well. Let us consult him. Are you his preserver?”
A voice from another part of the hall answered: “No, lord, I am.”
“Good. Take us into his presence.”
Niall was baffled; his sensitivity to the aura of living creatures made him certain that this place contained none apart from themselves.
There was a soft rustle as a young spider descended to the ground. As he made the ritual obeisance before him, Niall realized that he was little more than a child — the equivalent of a human seven-year-old. He was so young that his poison fangs had not even begun to develop. He spoke to Niall haltingly, as one who was unused to human speech.
“Please, follow me, sire.”
He led him toward one of the recesses that Niall had already observed. Asmak stood aside to allow Niall to pass, then followed behind. Grel, Niall observed, remained where he was. The young spider’s mind took control of Niall’s feet — a gesture of courtesy — steering him skillfully between thick strands of web that anchored overhead cobwebs to the floor. The recess itself was guarded by a curtain of webs that was virtually a miniature labyrinth. When they had steered their way between its overlapping sheets, Niall found himself standing in the entrance to a cave that extended back about twenty feet. To Niall’s surprise, it seemed to be empty. Then, as they advanced toward its end, he realized that it turned a corner. Here the passage narrowed, and the ceiling became lower. Another turn brought them into a low-roofed chamber, not more than a dozen feet wide. Its walls were roughly carved, and glistened with moisture. Against the farther wall there was a low stone altar on which some roughly spherical object was lying. A young spider was crouched in front of it, his legs bunched under his body. For a moment, Niall assumed that this was the spider who might answer his question; then, as he rose to his feet, Niall realized that the spider was a mere child.
They approached the center of the chamber and halted. For a moment Niall found himself in complete darkness, as his guide abandoned telepathic contact; a moment later, the contact was renewed as Asmak entered the chamber. In that moment, Niall realized with a shock that the spherical object lying on the altar was the shriveled remains of a dead spider. It was lying on a kind of cushion made of tangled spider web; its withered legs looked like broken stalks, while the leathery body was devoid of the usual hairs, and was cracked and shiny with age, like brittle leather.