Poison by Chris Wooding

Author:Chris Wooding [Wooding, Chris]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Scholastic UK
Published: 2013-11-13T13:00:00+00:00

Of all the places Bram might have imagined himself ending up in his middle age, he had never seen himself spreadeagled across a cliff face in the Realm of Spiders with nothing but air between him and a messy death in the trees below. He mumbled and muttered oaths and blew his white moustache, but still he clambered on, working the toe of his boot into a crack, sliding his gloved fingers into a fold in the rock, until finally he put his foot down safe on a ledge, and there before him was the strand of spiderweb.

By happy chance, one of the massive tendrils of white silk was anchored to the wall not far from where Poison and the others had entered the Realm. Poison had outlined her plan to them in detail, but it relied on several factors about which they were not yet certain. One was how sticky the web was; the other was how strong. And there was a third factor, too. Who was more patient, the spider or the flies that sought to evade her?

Bram heartily disapproved of the whole affair, but he had volunteered to go even so.

“I’m the strongest climber,” he said. “And besides, the sooner I prove to you that this won’t work, the better.”

The ledge was wide enough for Bram to relax a little, and was close enough to the strand so he could reach it without stretching too much. He caught his breath, then looked over at where Poison and Peppercorn had been following his progress.

“Touch the web!” Poison called. “Gently! You don’t want to bring the spider!”

Bram swore under his breath. She had to mention that, didn’t she? If he did attract the spider, there wasn’t anywhere he could go. Still, if he remembered rightly some tale an old minstrel had once told him about mandolin strings, they didn’t vibrate so well if they were plucked at the ends; it was only by striking them in the middle that they made a noise. He hoped the same principle applied to spiderweb.

Gingerly, he reached out a hand and laid it on the webbing. At worst, he reasoned, he’d lose a glove. The web was thick and flexible, but he could feel the immense strength in its construction. The glue on its surface oozed between his fingers. He let his hand rest there for a moment, then tried to pull it away. The glue resisted, but it gave up with a little effort. Bram harrumphed to himself. The glue was weak, all right. It was probably designed to catch those winged moth-things, which – large as they were – were terribly frail and probably possessed little physical strength. He glanced down the web, but there was no sign of the spider.

“I think we can climb on it, anyway,” he called. “But it’ll be slow going.”

Poison flashed a grin of triumph. “Now use your knife!” she cried back.

Bram gave her an irritated glance and did as she said, slicing a little way into the web.

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