And he realized forcibly how young she was--the painted lips made her
look much older, and the shadows--which he now saw were also painted
on--beneath her eyes. Only a girl, and if she had been one of his own
people he would have looked at her twice and more than twice....
But above their heads the great spider-machine's underparts gleamed
dully, straddling the sunken den. And the spell lasted only a moment.
The girl straightened her shoulders and took a deep breath. "Why am I
talking to a beetle? It's time--"
* * * * *
There was a clang of metal from somewhere in the room beyond. The girl's
face reflected sudden fright, beneath its painted mask. She spun round
and took two steps toward the inner door, but even as she did so, the
door swung wide, and dark figures crowded through it.
The girl cried, with terror and anger in her voice, "What do you mean,
coming into my Nest like this? You have no right--"
The interlopers were three in number, and all of them were women,
wearing black garments like the girl's, with the red spider symbol on
the breast. The one in the lead was elderly, her hair wisped with gray,
and her face was lined by years and passions; her eyes were flinty, her
mouth thin and cruel. The other two were younger; one was a strapping
blonde wench taller than Dworn, who moved with a powerful and formidable
grace; the other was short, soft-looking, with a child's pouting mouth
and a queer, mad glint in her dark eyes.
The older woman said, "No right? You've had your own Nest for all of
three months now, dear Qanya, and already you tell your Mother that she
has no right to enter?"
The girl quailed. She retreated step by step until her back was against
the wall beside Dworn, and met the old woman's eyes with a look half
fright, half defiance.
"But, of course, you have your reasons," the Spider Mother went on
bitingly. Her hard eyes stabbed at the bound and helpless Dworn.
"Somewhere you managed to catch this, and bring him in without letting
anyone know, and paint your face and prepare the needle.... You chose to
forget that in times like these there are others of the Family whose
claim to a mate has priority over yours!"
"_That's_ true, Mother!" said the tall blonde energetically. The plump
girl licked her full lips and said nothing.
"Quiet, Purri!" snapped the Spider Mother. Her eyes raked the girl Qanya
again. "Well, and what do you have to say for yourself?"
Qanya's black eyes flashed. "I caught him myself," she blazed. "You've
no right--"
"No right, no right," mocked the old woman. "Why, I believe that, if
you'd dared, you'd have blocked up the connecting tunnel so we couldn't
walk in on you. Who has rights is for _me_ to decide--and for me to
decide whether you're whipped and sent back to the young girls'
dormitory. Until I've made up my mind--" She turned and frowned
thoughtfully at her two companions, jabbed a finger at the tall one.
"You, Purri, stay here and see that nothing happens to the catch, and
make sure our little Qanya doesn't misbehave. I'm going to my Nest and
check over the Family ledger, to settle the question of who's first in
line for a mate. We've got to be strict, now that the cursed
night-fliers are everywhere and it's been so long since we trapped a
presentable male." She eyed Dworn once more, and smiled thinly. "He's a
fine youth. Who knows? I might even take him for myself."
Dworn had no stomach for the compliment. Secretly, he was twisting his
bound hands behind him, trying to loosen the knots. Those knots had been
none too skillfully tied, and given time.... But he had to desist as the
tall Purri strode near and stood over him. She cast a glance after the
retreating backs of the Spider Mother and her other proteges, then
devoted all her attention to Dworn, surveying him in critical silence
and with a business-like eye for detail.
Qanya huddled against the wall; her dark eyes were enormous, and tears
had streaked the make-up on her cheeks.
Purri nodded satisfiedly. "He'll do," she said matter-of-factly to
Qanya. "The Mother should give him to me. It's a choice between me and
Marza, really--" She jerked her head toward the door through which the
dark, pouting girl had gone--"But Marza doesn't really appreciate a
mate. All she cares about is seeing how long she can take to make them
die."
Qanya stared hotly at her. She said in a stifled voice, "You're a beast,
and Marza is a beast, and--"
"Careful!" said Purri lazily. "If you say anything against the Mother,
I'll have to report you." Arms akimbo, she looked scornfully down at the
younger girl's tearful face.
* * * * *
Dworn had been right about the knots Qanya had tied. They were slipping.
He wrestled in silence, hoping for a little more time.... Then he was
sickeningly aware that Qanya was looking toward him, had seen what he
was doing. For an instant he froze.
Qanya said hurriedly, "Anyway, _you're_ a beast, Purri. A greedy one.
You've had two mates already--why didn't you make them last? And I've
not even had one."
"When you're older," said Purri loftily, her back still turned to the
struggling beetle, "you'll understand more. But you ought to know from
your schooling that there are some races that mate for life--and among
them, the males dominate the female. We spiders are above such degrading
practices."
Qanya's eyes flicked momentarily to Dworn, who was wrenching at the
final knot. "Yes, yes, I know," she said. "But I still say it isn't
fair--"
Dworn came catlike to his feet, ignoring the pain of cramped limbs. The
cord with which he had been bound was looped in his hands. With a single
stride he was upon the unwarned Purri; one hand clamped over her mouth,
cutting off outcry, and the other hand whipped the cord tight around
her. She fought with the strength of a man, but futilely. Dworn ripped a
length of fabric from her clothing and improvised a gag; when he was
done, the spider woman could do no more than kick and gurgle a little.
During the brief struggle, Qanya had watched without making a sound,
hands pressed against the girdered wall at her back. As Dworn faced her
now, breathing hard, he saw fear written large in her face.