A very familiar cave

A paladin lay on the floor of a web-filled cave.

Her head hurt. Her stomach hurt. Everything hurt. The worst hurt of all was in her heart. She had lost something, she could remember that much; something precious and golden, something very valuable indeed. It had been entrusted to her and she had lost it. She lay in the darkness, naked and cold and afraid, and blinked back tears of futility and shame.

She did not know how long she lay there, but she gradually became aware of a noise. Something was tapping against the floor, a regular click-click-click of calliper limbs. For a moment her confused brain threw up an image of a disfigured old woman walking with a cane, then a looming shape detached from the deeper darkness of the cave. It resolved itself into a humanoid figure: a woman, built to proportions perhaps a third again as large as the paladin, with ebony skin and flowing white hair. Half of a woman, in any case. Her waist fused into the bristly black abdomen of a gigantic spider. She stood on eight splayed legs and placed her hands on her hips. She was beautiful, but in a chilly, monochromatic way, like a marble statue. The only color on her was in her eyes. They glowed golden and shed a faint radiance across her cheeks.

"Teysa," she said, and bent down over the paladin. A hand the size of a buckler reached out and caressed Teysa's cheek. It was warm and smooth, though the fingertips came to sharp points. Teysa closed her eyes and pressed her face into the spider-woman's palm. Something in that touch reminded her of her mother: the way she would comfort her children when they fell from a tree or were stung by a bee. When she was small, Teysa had thought her mother's touch had magical powers. Perhaps this woman did. When she laid a hand against Teysa's stomach, the pain began to fade.

"My child," the drider said, and something cool and wet dripped on Teysa's face. She looked up and was astonished to see that the drider was crying, too. A tear landed on Teysa's lip. It tasted sweet, like honey, and fizzed on her tongue. "My child," the drider repeated. "I am so sorry. You have suffered terribly."

"What..." Teysa's mouth was dry. She licked her lips and tried again. "What is happening? Matron, is that you?" She remembered the Matron, at least. Memories were trickling back to her. Her trip to the City, the revelation... Aliara... the attack on the warren... her duel... "Where am I?"

"You are safe." The drider laid her hands on Teysa's stomach, her chest, her head, her flank. Everywhere they touched her skin tingled and the pain faded. "My child, you have to make a choice. We only have a short time together."

"Am I dying?" Teysa asked. The thought did not scare her as much as it seemed like it should. She felt as though she was thinking clearly for the first time.

"Your life is coming to an end," the drider said. "What happens next is up to you. You have earned respite. Very few have been as faithful as you. Say the word, and your pain will come to an end. No more fear. No more hurt. A place has been set for you." She held out her hands with her fingers splayed. Something hovered between them: a faint, translucent orb, about the size of Teysa's head. She could see through it as though it were a spyglass.

Her breath caught in her throat. Clearly visible inside the orb was a small thatched-roof cottage. All around it, waves of corn swayed gently in the breeze. Late afternoon sunshine cast the whole image in gold. She knew without being told that around the back of the house there would be a well, and a chicken coop, and a little pen for goats. It would always be summer there, and the smell of fresh-cut grass would linger in the warm evening air. She saw movement at one edge of the sphere, and a figure sauntered into view. Her back was to Teysa, but a wash of copper-colored hair tumbled down over the back of her simple cotton dress.

"And if I refuse?" she asked, hardly daring to look away. The drider closed her hands and the scene vanished, popping like a soap bubble. Teysa almost cried out.

"There will be pain," the drider said. "There will be fear. You will do your best and sometimes it will not be good enough. People will rely on you, but they will be ungrateful, and when you need them most they will abandon you."

"What about my friends?" Teysa pushed herself upright into a sitting position. "El'keth, and Mish'li, and... and Aliara. What about them?"

"What about them?" the drider echoed, though there was no mockery in her voice, only a deep sadness. "What responsibility do you owe them? You have already done much and more. You owe them nothing. They have no hold on you."

"I took a vow," Teysa insisted. "I didn't swear to protect Aliara, or El'keth, or anyone. I swore to uphold justice. I took a vow."

"You are released from your vow," the drider replied. She seemed to be growing, although in the gloaming of the cave it was hard to be sure. Her voice was regal, imperious. "You are released from your service. You swore duty unto ****, and **** is waiting for you."

Teysa shook her head. It was all so clear to her now. She felt as though she was standing on a mountaintop with the scenery unrolled before her. From this vantage she could see her whole life, her vow, the chain of decisions that had led her to this point. She knew who she was addressing.

"Dark-Mother," she said, "deep-weaver, life-bringer. You Who Spin Below. I have dedicated my life to protecting the innocent. I have dedicated my life to justice. But I will never, never abandon my principles. I will never abandon my friends. Not while there is breath in my body."

The drider nodded. She reached down and laid a hand on Teysa's belly. "So be it. Your life is yours." She pulled back, and a faint smile danced around her lips. The golden glow from her eyes grew brighter for a moment. She reared up and swung her abdomen forward. A crease parted in the flesh and a familiar rod of muscular flesh slithered forth. "Will you accept My gift? Will you live again? There will be a price."

Teysa understood that what she was seeing was not, in the strictest sense, real. It was a metaphor, or an allegory, or something; she had never been good at that sort of philosophizing. Still, the sight of the ovipositor sliding out of drider's abdomen awoke something inside her. She leaned back against the wall of the cave and looked up. "Do I have a choice?"

"Of course," Lolth replied. "There is always a choice."

Teysa spread her legs. "Do it, then."