The Shameful Past of Mistress Т.

7. The Pink Snot (part 1)

[UNEDITED]

The Cave of the Mute Bells, even by the standards of the Abyss, was considered the very hazardous place. The two clans of sentient arachnids living there have incessantly feuded with each other, intentionally or accidentally dragging the neighbors into their fights. All of this eight-legged troublemakers have nested in giant bells (cast in time immemorial by an unknown master): members of the first clan—in those that were hanged with various chains and rods from the roof of the cave, and members of the other—in upended ones, recessed into the floor.

Talia and Enaor were cursing all of the spiders en masse while making their way to the house of Kipheb. They had to surround themselves with a magical sphere to protect their hair and fur from the scraps of sticky threads falling from the ceiling; to constantly give way to the spider youngsters (bedizened with rattling amulets and accompanied by pairs of pet scolopendras); and also to keep changing the route to bypass the silvery "lakes"—the mouths of the bells tightly woven over with silky webs.

"And how do they manage to live here, with all of these spiders? Creepy-crawly creatures!" Talia sympathized with all non-arthropod inhabitants of the cave.

"Yes, but, on the other hand, thanks to them, no one else dares to disturb the locals. And if he does—" Enaor glanced meaningfully at the cocoon which was trembling in the net above their heads.

"Oh, if only all the thieves and cutthroats of Lennes were so easily frightened, they wouldn't step a foot in the nine-tenths of its caves!" The Alae waved her hand.

The Alae were almost near Kipheb's house when Talia suddenly froze beside an unremarkable gateway.

"Do you hear that?" she asked Enaor mentally.

"Of course, yes."

"I barely caught it. There are three of them: all humans and not magicians, right?" Talia blurted out.

"You already decided to rush to the rescue, did I understand you correctly?" instead of answering, suavely asked her Enaor. "Aren't your paws outrunning your head? At least think about whether it would be profitable for you or not?"

Talia closed her excitedly shining eyes scratched herself slowly behind the ears.

"I don't know Kipheb very well," she said, having composed herself. "And I understand perfectly well that he probably put his tail between legs and had not even tried to prevent my dismissal. But I don't want him to get killed!"

"Do they really intend to kill him?"

"Really. They want to take advantage of Kipheb's drunkeness—he got loaded somewhere, and thus he enchanted his door very badly—to kill him, rob his house and then sell our friend's body to the chef of "The Pot of Guts." I always felt that we shouldn't eat anything there!" Talia shrugged. "No, I apparently haven't yet become enough ... lennesseanwomen to take pleasure watching three thugs chopping up my competitor, no matter what Tnori says. Especially if he has very valuable information."

"The last clarification is a balm for my wounds." Enaor coquettishly rubbed his muzzle against a lamp post.

"In short, I'm for a fight." Talia released her claws.

"Well, what exactly are you going to do?"

"I'm going to bring one or even two of them under my control—they are easily suggestible. But the third, the third, their leader, seems unbreakable to me. I can barely even hear his thoughts. I suspect that he is a Helrot[1]. He has a pretty strong spirit. His mind is well protected. The combat spells, most likely, will bounce off him. Thus, I have no choice but to try to pit his pals against him."