Warden (Book 2: Lure of the Lamia) Read Online Free PDF Page B

to visit her. As he had eventually learned from Tom, the Widow was a Web Mistress – some sort of spider queen. She was generally left in peace by the Wardens, and in exchange for being left alone, she shared information when asked. (Her “children” – the various breeds and types of spiders – were everywhere, resulting in her being able to find out almost anything.) Thus, she was an ally of sorts.
    That said, every visit with the White Widow was a life-or-death affair, no matter how casually she acted. Thankfully, there was very little chance that she’d be able to mesmerize him again. According to Tom, the Widow could generally only do it to a person once, after which they built up a kind of resistance to her mental influence. Still, Errol saw no need to take chances.
    Although he could see the Widow’s home, he was still within the tree line of the forest and essentially hidden. He got down from his horse, and then went through his pack until he found the gourd containing the basilisk blood.
    When Errol had miraculously defeated the Wendigo, the evil sorcerer who had used the monster’s bones to create the dagger Errol now carried hadn’t stopped with a single blade. He’d forged numerous weapons, including Errol’s throwing knife, as well as several arrowheads – some of which were fitted to arrows that he presently carried.
    He took out one such arrow (which was designed for his one-hand crossbow) and, after removing the stopper from the gourd, he ever so carefully poured a single drop of basilisk blood onto the wedged-shaped tip of the arrow. There was an angry hissing sound as the blood bubbled on the surface of the arrowhead, releasing a thin cloud of yellow vapor. Errol was careful to hold the arrow at arm’s length (as well as downwind of him) while simultaneously, carefully holding the unstoppered gourd.
    After a minute or two, the hissing ceased. Inspecting the arrowhead, Errol was pleasantly surprised to see that it had held its shape, despite the corrosiveness of the basilisk’s blood. However, he had no doubt that the arrow was now as poisonous as a viper.
    Satisfied, he put the arrow back in its quiver, then placed the stopper back in the gourd and put it away. He climbed back up into the saddle, and then carefully took the small crossbow and notched the poisonous arrow. Somewhat confident now, he rode out into the open towards the Widow’s cabin.
    He was actually approaching the cabin from the rear, and again he was reminded of his first meeting here with the Widow. Back then he was prone to make mistakes; in fact, he had still been something of a butterfingers just a few months ago – right up until the point when Tom disappeared. Since then, having to take on the duties of Warden had matured him a lot faster than the mere passage of time.
    He was so lost in his own thoughts that he didn’t even see the Widow until she stepped out from behind a tree as he neared the cabin. His horse neighed in fear and reared up, almost throwing him. The Widow clapped her hands, laughing with glee.
    As when he’d first seen her, she bore the semblance of a beautiful woman. Also as before, she was dressed in white and unnaturally pale.
    “Welcome, Warden,” she said, voice devoid of warmth. Errol was tempted to correct her, but decided not to. It seemed that half his words these days were spent making it clear that he wasn’t the Warden, but he didn’t feel like discussing it at the moment.
    “Widow,” he said in acknowledgement. As he watched, she moved her hands in an odd motion, almost as if she were wringing them. Looking closer, Errol saw a fat, hairy spider crawling across her palm. When the arachnid reached the edge of her hand, she would place her other hand there for it to continue walking.
    “What can I do for you this fine day?” she asked, barely looking in his direction as she played with the spider.
    To Errol, her voice had a brittle edge that made it feel as though being helpful was