The Spider Queen

The river ran backwards on the day the queen vanished...

The river of time.

I had back-to-back meetings all day and needed to organize an evacuation in the Amazon as many beings there were being preyed upon, over abundantly, by unnatural predators.

Until we could find out how to stop it, we would need to relocate the beings that were in danger.

I groaned and massaged above my eyes. There were strange magical goings on popping up all over the world.

Ever since that strange human disease Covid, it seemed that everyone had decided to take up black magic as a hobby.

Now, my kind and the others like me who were responsible for protecting the natural order of things and keeping things balanced, have been overrun.

Humans were creatures of chaos on a good day. Give them any kind of mystical power, or significant power at all, and they became chaos incarnate. Which would not have been necessarily bad, save for the fact that they shared a world with all of us!

I groaned.

I felt the spell's energetic presence before I saw it.

Greenish light filled my throne room, a great gaping blackness opened within that odd viridescent light. Mist wrapped Tendrils of the dark slithered across my patterned stone floor towards me to wrap me up tight within its bonds. Then the vaulted ceilings brimming with stalactites, my amethyst encrusted throne, and the floor to ceiling stained glass windows with their intricate patterns of artistry were simply gone from my eyes. All I could see was that green light enveloping me as I sped through what looked like a fast moving...river?

Then I knew where I was.

I was being dragged through the river of time, bound within a powerful and by the feel of it, ancient spell.

I closed my eyes and called forth the calm that I had cultivated while dealing with my hatchlings. I thanked the stars that they were old enough to be independent.

With my mind calm, it was time to find a way back or if not immediately possible, a way out. All Spells are like riddles, there is always an answer even if it is not readily available, it will become evident with time. I cast my senses about, careful not to get caught up in the chaos of time itself.

I needed a spot where the spell's weaving was weak.

All spells, much like a web, must be woven. Whoever made this spell should have known better than to use it on a spider.

As I was pulled swiftly along the time current, they feel much like a raging set of rapids, I found a weak spot in the spell threads.

I cast my filament and managed to swing myself to it, applying pressure to the spot until it gave way, I tumbled out of the spell's grasp and through the time current to the closest spot in the timeline.

I fell through the current and landed with a whump onto cold cobblestone streets. Groaning, I leveraged myself up and checked for damage. I found none and so surveyed my surroundings.

I was on earth, and by the look of the buildings, the decorative tiling, the steep tiled roofs along with the asymmetrical design, I had landed in Victorian England. Hmmm, now the question was When was I? I needed a newspaper!

I scrabbled along the frozen cobblestones, wishing that I could have prepared more. If I had the time to eat properly, I would have been able to change form and become passably human. Alas, I was stuck in my true form for the moment. But perhaps... it was better this way; this form is quite a bit faster.

Skittering up this building and that one, I used my talents to stay unheard and unseen. Broadcasting a psychic suggestion to anyone who saw me, that they did not see me, rather they saw a trick of the moonlight and the snow. It was a good practice no matter where my people were. No one takes kindly to SUV-sized spiders roaming about unchecked. We tend to make people nervous, and a panic was the last thing that I needed.

The sun was barely peeking over the horizon when I heard the call for the Morning Post. I slipped down from my perch on a high steeple and snitched a paper. The date read October 30th, 1885.

Oh dear, well this could be interesting.

I crouched on the roof, paper in hand, and debated my options.

For now, I needed to find a place to hide until I could find a way out of this predicament...and find out who exactly cast that spell. And for what purpose, there were so many options and none of them were good. From the feel of the spell, I was not the original target but was added as a kind of bonus. Hmmm again.

I sensed a farm a few miles away, it would be a good hiding spot for now until I knew more.

I made my way down the side of the building and headed for the farm, and hopefully a barn of some sort (if I was lucky an unused barn), at top speed.

Now I needed to ask myself how long it would take me to get back to my time. While I could live out the years leading up to my kidnapping...I would much prefer being able to go back home quickly. The longer I stayed in the past, the greater the chance of my causing damage.

Then I remembered, that my next in line to the throne, Calliope would be contacting her human mage for hire, Amara Landsend, and I relaxed a bit. Amara owes my kingdom a great deal from a few lifetimes ago, that is what we tell her the reason is that we come to her when we have more extensive magical problems, in truth Amara is a favorite among our people as she (unbeknownst to her) is Calliope's closest friend. Well, and Amara is one of the strongest Sorcerers of the age, she is also relentless once she sets about a task. I believe the adage is, a dog with a bone. It is quite disturbing.

It was only a matter of time until Amara found me. So, my responsibility was to give her a marker to help find me quickly and then lay low and do as little damage to the timeline as possible.

With that in mind, I smiled as I sped towards my destination, hopping from rooftop to rooftop.

It is Calliope herself, that Amara owes her debt to.

Calliope was a tiny house spider when she met Amara, over three hundred years ago. She saw how terrible Amara's situation was and her conscience wouldn't let her leave a being in that kind of a problem. If it were not for Calliope's kindness and cunning, Amara would have had her soul stolen & sold to one of the more disgusting demon lords of the underworld. It was one of the deciding factors for naming Calliope as my next in line.

Amara owes Calliope for her very soul, even though Calliope would never dream of admitting it to her friend, the awkwardness would be too much for either of them to bear.

The farm & barn almost in sight, I picked up the pace.