Along Came an Arachne

Chapters

3. This is an Interrogation?
4. Do They Have to Watch?
5. Who Let the Dogs In?
6. Is This How You Make an Impression?
7. Don't Adventures Start with Killing a Rat?
8. Who are the Usual Suspects?
9. This is a Changeling?
10. Was this Really Necessary?
1. Arachnophobia
2. Do You Believe in Magic?

3. This is an Interrogation?

Edited byTuxOKC

“Cover the windows and break up the crowd, Clover,” the mare snapped. “I told you to do that before we got in here! We don’t need a circus outside!”

One of the guards near the door flinched. “Of course! Apologies!” He turned, and with help from another guard, did as he was told.

“Reservists,” the unicorn huffed.

“So,” Rachnera chirped, resting her bound hands upon the table, “let me see if I have this right: The ponies with the horns are called unicorns, the ponies with wings are called pegasus—”

“Pegasi,” someone corrected her in a terse voice.

A saccharine smile danced across her lips, “Of course, my mistake, pegasi, and the ponies without horns or wings are called Earth ponies.”

“That is correct, Madame Monster,” a slender unicorn mare with a peach coat told her. She sat across from her, a plumed helmet resting on top of the table to the side. A mane of gold streaked with orange tones was kept in a braid wrapped around her neck.

“Subject is still showing signs of distress,” said one of the unicorn guards. Her horn was glowing and she was keeping it pointed at the liminal. Rachnera glowered at the speaker, daring her to add to the comment. “The spell won’t last much longer.”

“Noted,” grunted the pony leader.

They were in the town hall meeting room. To the Arachne, it was nothing more than a fancy, converted barn. It had the distinct smell akin to Cantorea’s room. There were tables, chairs, a pair of iron chandeliers that might have been wagon wheels once upon a time ringed with glittering candles, a wooden floor stained and polished. Everywhere she looked, the craftsmanship screamed pride and dedication. She appreciated such things.

“I always thought unicorns were keepers of the forests, working with dryads to maintain the land,” Rachnera told the her captor. She kept a friendly front, but the guard had not been wrong. They were armed with spears and a couple of them, being unicorns, kept their horns glowing, and at the ready. “No offense, but that’s what they do where I come from. They also have cloven hooves and their tails aren’t quite the same as yours.” At least the spears were not being pointed at her. That had been annoying on the way from the house.

The unicorn held up a hoof. “Does this look cloven to you?”

“No, but whoever trimmed your hoof did a lovely job.”

“Thank you.”

“I’ve never seen such an adorable species,” the Arachne went on. Clearing her throat, she pressed her arms together, which pushed her breasts out. “Might I have some water? I’ll be happy to answer any questions you might have. I don’t want any trouble.”

The unicorn glared at the liminal. “I don’t exactly call sneaking around the village at night and accosting my son as ‘not wanting any trouble’.”

“I didn’t accost him! We were having a pleasant conversation after he magicked me,” Rachnera lied. “My head is still ringing.” Which was somewhat true. Every time a pony spoke, if she paid attention, there was what she could only describe as background noise crackling in her head.

The mare closed her eyes and sighed, “A cup of water for our new guest, please.”

Rachnera smiled. A wooden cup materialized in a flash of light in front of her, making her widen her eyes in surprise. “I don’t think I can ever get used to that,” she told the unicorn as she grasped her drink with her bound hands. “Thank you.” Nerves were starting to fray, but she had to keep herself together.

As she sipped her water, the unicorn’s eyes bore into her. Not at all trusting the Arachne, she had been surprised when the monster surrendered immediately after being discovered. No doubt there was a sense the Arachne was up to something. Something nefarious. Something evil. But mercy came instead of violence, surprising Rachnera.

Holding her cup to her lips with her elbows propped on the table, Rachnera peered over the rim and in turn stared back at Random’s mother. What was her name? Ah, yes, Reserve Captain Winter Shimmer, Mayor of Shimmerdale. Her family had deep roots in the region and was well respected by the populace. The family name had been cobbled onto everything, starting with the village itself.

“I would like to go home,” Rachnera said. “I would like to find someone who has the means to let me go home. That way, I can be out of your hair and no longer a problem for you to deal with. So, if you could just point me in the right direction, that would be lovely.”

“I’m sorry, Miss Monster,” Captain Shimmer said in a flat tone, “but I can’t exactly let you go. There are missing foals. Missing pups. Tensions are very high between us and the Diamond Dogs. Since you are what you are, a monster and suspect, I am going to make sure you are speaking the truth when you say you have nothing to do with the disappearance of said foals and pups. I am trying to avoid bloodshed and so help me, if you have anything to do with it, I will personally rip off each and every one of your legs and impale you with them. Do I make myself clear?” She tilted her head to one side a touch.

Rachnera smiled, “Crystal.” The water was cool and refreshing. “What are we waiting for?”

“My husband,” Winter replied. “We rule as equals here. I do not make decisions in regards to creatures like you without his counsel. He would do the same if our roles were reversed.”

“You must love and respect him very much,” Rachnera prompted.

“Irrelevant to the matter at hand,” Winter told her, living up to her name. “My son should have been in bed, but he says he felt your presence. Why?”

The Arachne shrugged. “I have no idea. I holed myself up into a tree after arriving here in order to figure out what I need to do in order to get home. An immense power brought me here and it’s going to take an immense power to send me back. I don’t belong here. I don’t want to be here. I want to be home, with my family, holding my love and blessing him with as many children as he wants.” Embellishment could be a good thing, if played right. It helped to throw in a well practiced pleading look for good measure.

Winter Shimmer roved her eyes over the monster girl, her lips set in a thin line. “You’re full of shit.”

“You got me,” Rachnera raised her bound hands, palms facing the unicorn and let out an unhappy sigh, “I am the Beginning of the End. I have come to drink all of your caffeine and put all before me in bondage. I’m a bit of a dominatrix and I must have my carnal desires satiated before I can return home and make sweet, sweet love to my Honey.” It made her feel better to say that, because it was silly.

Winter paled before clearing her throat. “I also find that unlikely. Disturbing, but unlikely. My special ability is in detecting magic and I don’t find much if any in you at all. In the end, you’re nothing more than a spider.”

“True.”

“You seem to have a sex fetish.”

Rachnera flashed a sensual smile. “I am a sexual creature.”

Winter’s eyes widened as she jerked her head back. “That’s...disturbing.”

“Why? Because I don’t look like you, act like you, or think like you, I’m disturbing?” The Arachne’s demeanor shifted as her mood soured. “I’ve dealt with hypocrites my whole life. I’ve never hidden who or what I am. I accept if someone doesn’t like me, hates me, or is even afraid of me. I could easily look at a pair of ponies fucking, say that’s disturbing, and become the very hypocrite you are being right now. I don’t like having people afraid of me, I don’t like people not liking me, and I certainly don’t like being hated. But you know something, pony, at least I can accept it and go somewhere where I am accepted for who and what I am. I have someone who accepts me as is and can even see through the facade I put up to protect myself from the cruelty of others. I can’t stress how much I do not want to be here. I have had nothing to do with your missing children and I find it shameful my appearance is all it takes for you to assume I have some form of responsibility for the bullshit around here. But you know what? I can accept that because you can’t see beyond the layer of skin I wear on the outside.” She was showing her teeth through her smile by the time she finished speaking.

Unimpressed, the unicorn scoffed, “Laying it on a bit thick, aren’t you Miss Monster?”

“Just letting you know where I stand,” came the reply. “I don’t want you thinking there was something about me you do not or cannot understand.”

Winter nodded, “Then understand my point of view. I am in a situation that has been deteriorating for weeks. I have parents missing their foals and I have a tribe of Diamond Dogs that are itching to go to war. There is a third party involved and I think they are trying to start a regional war. I don’t know who or where this third party is and quite frankly, your little sob story means nothing to me. I don’t give two shits who you want to fuck or how often you want to fuck him or her, it has nothing to do with the potential war I have looming not only over my head, but the heads of the civilians I am bound and sworn to protect. I am expecting reinforcements any day and once they arrive, I’ll be able to expand my search and find who is responsible if it’s not you.”

Rachnera blinked and stared. “I think we’re going to be good friends,” she commented with a sudden wry smirk.

“Highly unlikely,” the mare snorted, “but so long as you cooperate and don’t become a pain in my flank, then maybe, just maybe, when everything simmers down and we solve this little problem I have, you’ll get a train ticket to Canterlot. Under heavy guard. Because you do look like a fucking nightmare to us ponies.”

“That’s fine with me,” the Arachne said, satisfied. “Though, if I could speed things up…” Her voice trailed off as she became thoughtful.

“What was that?” Winter’s ears perked as she gave Rachnera a suspicious glare.

“What if I were to offer my services and help look for these foals. I’m very good at tracking and ambush. My webbing is strong and I can make it as sticky as you like. The way I see it, if I can help solve your problem, I can get myself to see your princess faster.”

“Thanks, but no thanks,” Winter said flatly. “I’m not going to trust somepony I don’t know to stand with my troops and mingle among my civilians. You’ll spook them and I’ll get bombarded with accusations and questions I really don’t want to deal with. I’m afraid you’re stuck here until we figure out what to do with you. As I said, we need to wait for my husband to return from patrol.”

For the next several minutes Rachnera sipped at her water while Winter Shimmer never took her eyes off her. They locked eyes and a battle of wills (i.e., staring contest) began.

The Arachne decided Random Shimmer’s mother was a bit too serious and probably lacked a sense of humor. Duties and titles, Rachnera reasoned, could suck the life out of someone. Though she had seen the fear in the mother’s eyes when Random was found with her, the restraint shown in not resorting to violence on the spot was commendable. It was better than some reactions humans had on seeing an arachnid: Spider! Stomp with shoe until it stops twitching!

It also helped when the little colt put himself between Rachnera and the unicorn and her guards, talking faster than what should have been possible. He had been crying, too, throwing in a lot of “Please, Momma, don’t squish my spider!”. Unable to say anything at the time in her defense, she let the little guy do his thing and win over his mother so she would at least allow Rachnera to explain herself. Winter seemed very upset to find a monster on her family home and then insisted the conversation be moved into the village’s town hall (the barn). The Arachne was then escorted from the house. At some point Random was taken away after a hushed scolding from his mother by another pony, presumably home.

And yes, he was very much grounded, as his mother grated at him in a furious, barely contained tone that had just enough fear in it to lead Rachnera to believe she was on the verge of tears.

Now, as she crossed her pedipalps one over the other, Rachnera understood the mare was under a lot of pressure. Perhaps antagonizing her any further would not serve any useful purpose and would become counterproductive. Hence, she offered to help, already knowing the chances of it being accepted would be virtually nil. So far, it was what she expected.

Her head was still aching. “I’m going to guess that little candle gave us away.” Setting down her cup, she brought her hands up and rubbed her temple. The throbbing had grown more and more difficult to ignore.

“Ma’am, the spell,” warned the busybody guard from before.

Winter gave a nod, not removing her attention from the Arachne. “The candle did give you away, but it was the spell my son cast that lead us to you.”

“You can sense that?”

“I just told you my special talent is detecting magic,” Winter reminded Rachnera.

“Right,” she drew out the word. “So, what you mean is when Random cast that translation thing on me, you felt it?”

“More or less.”

“How convenient for you.”

“It has its uses,” shrugged the unicorn. “The problem is, the translation spell used on you is only temporary and is already starting to wear off. I’m sure you’re noticing a buzzing sound growing louder and louder in your head.”

Rachnera nodded. “It’s annoying. Reminds me of a lamia I know.”

“I do not doubt that.” Winter rolled her jaw for a moment. “You’re lucky your brain wasn’t reduced to a puddle of goo. You could have been turned into a vegetable.”

Rachnera winced. “Lucky me. First experience with magic and I nearly get lobotomized.”

Winter expressed regret, “It was a stupid risk on my son’s part and on his behalf, I apologize. Random means well, but he’s yet to understand consequences.”

“But I’m still your prisoner.”

“You’re still my prisoner. Are you hungry?”

“I could eat.”

“I’m going to assume you are a carnivore.”

“You assume correctly. I can also eat vegetables, but I don’t mind fish if you don’t have any red meat.”

The unicorn gave a single, slow nod. “We can do fish.”

“Thank you.”

“Cletus, please go wake the innkeeper and ask his wife for one of her fish dishes. Doesn’t matter what, something she can whip up on the quick.”

“Yes ma’am!” An Earth pony guard saluted and trotted out the front door.

“Tea?” Winter asked. “I could go for a cup.”

“Tea would be lovely,” Rachnera agreed. I could use a good, stiff drink. “Could I push my luck and ask for a bath? I feel so dirty.”

She looked over towards one of the guards, “Tea for two, if you please.” He inclined his head and disappeared through a side door. “I might be able to arrange something. Lucifer might object. He has the largest tub in town that could hold you. Pony tubs would be too small for you.”

A brow rose. “Who is this ‘Lucifer’?”

Winter broke into a fond smile. “Retired minotaur warrior. Absolutely massive specimen. Fur as black as midnight and a long, white beard. Scarred. Red eyes, redder than yours. Wears glasses whenever he has to read. Runs the inn. Not a bad sort. Spent a lot of years hunting monsters for fun and profit. Might think you’re a new plaything to squish,” she finished, pointing a hoof at her prisoner.

A minotaur? Finally, something she was familiar with! Rachnera put her musing on pause as she stared at her captor, speculating. “Oh, goodie,” she sighed. “A monster hunting fanatic.”

Winter turned her head to one side in time to see one of the guards return with a tea tray. “Thank you, Hammer.”

“Ma’am,” Hammer squeaked. Rachnera ran a studious eye over him. He was young, probably a teen? He flinched when he spotted her staring at him, offering a weak smile before turning his gaze away from her. At least he didn’t spill the tea. The unicorn dismissed him with a smile.

“Sugar and cream?” Winter asked in a perfect hostess voice. Her eyes were still hard and had not at all softened.

She held up her bound hands. “No, thank you,” Rachnera replied. “Are these still necessary? You left my legs unfettered.”

Winter shook her head, “Think of it as a reminder of your situation. Even if you have done nothing wrong and none of the missing foals are linked to you, you are still an undocumented alien of a species unknown to Equestria. A report will have to be filed and we still have to determine if you are a threat to this land and its citizens.”

“So, word of me is being sent to your capital?”

Winter floated a cup of tea on a saucer over and set it before the Arachne. “Yes. Standard protocol. We have to keep you detained regardless until we figure out what to do with you.”

This...was not terrible news. It could even work in her favor! A smile, small and unassuming, flashed for a moment across her lips. Pushing her empty water cup aside, Rachnera lifted her tea and paused to inhale the aroma. “I see. What tea is this?”

“Just a black tea, Earl Neigh, I believe,” Winter replied.

The corner of Rachnera’s mouth upturned a tick. “I’ve noticed the puns in this land are quite humorous.”

The unicorn blinked. “What puns?”

“Nevermind.” The Arachne sipped her tea. She ignored the taste (though it was relaxing) and could feel the effects of the caffeine in moments. It was a subtle, warming sensation that made her feel better. She lowered her cup, asking, “So, what have you discovered about me since we’ve sat down?”

“Quite a bit, actually,” Winter was unruffled and sipped from her tea. “But I want to speak to my husband first before we go into that. I do hope he’s had a chance to speak with the dogs. This tit for tat spat is becoming bothersome and scaring the wits out of my ponies.”

The headache was becoming harder to ignore. Rachnera set her cup down and pressed her fingers to her temples, wincing as she closed her eyes and let out a pained hiss.

“The spell is—,” Winter’s voice crackled between understanding and horse sounds. Leaping to her hooves, she barked (whinnied?) out a command. Hammer went to the same side door as before and neighed into it. A unicorn sporting a white lab coat trotted in, a black bag floating with her.

She froze upon seeing Rachnera and visibly shuddered. The Arachne deadpanned through the pain. The doctor pony—once she got over her horror and realized she was still a professional—moved right up to the liminal, never breaking eye contact with her. All the while, Winter spoke to her in their pony language. Rachnera offered a pained smile, but did little else to look unintimidating.

Some things never change.

The doctor pony set her bag on the table and was already rummaging through it. In moments, a small glass bottle holding pills was fished out. Pills were dosed out and offered to the Arachne. Was it aspirin? She waved it off. The doctor neighed and stamped a hoof. The pills were practically shoved at Rachnera’s mouth.

She rebuffed the doctor’s prescription, giving her a flat stare, “I don’t want them!”

The unicorn huffed in concern, casting a sidelong glance at Winter and let out a worried whicker.

Winter pointed a hoof at the pills, then at Rachnera. The mare growled, as if to be inclined to shove the pills down a certain monster’s throat if just for the satisfaction of the idea alone.

Her head throbbed. It hurt. “Fine,” she gave in, snatching the pills from the air. Popping them in her mouth, she sipped her tea and swallowed.

The pony doctor was all smiles, now. She said something to Winter, who responded with a smile of her own followed by a nod. Eyeing the Arachne (and shuddering, again), she trotted back from whence she came, her bag following after her.

Rachnera sighed. Things were never easy when it came to dealing with others. Kimihito Kurusu accepted her, could see through her and she found she missed that and terribly so. The past few days without him—and, begrudgingly, the other girls she shared the house with—had been some of the loneliest of her life. The man had the patience of a god and put up with her antics (attempts at seduction, annoying the other girls with the occasional bondage practice, etc..) and welcomed her in his home without hesitation or reservation. Her thoughts, she knew, would always drift towards home until the day she stepped through those doors and could match her eyes with those of her Honey once again.

Steeling herself, she wiped the tears threatening to fall with her palms. Surely those ponies would assume they were because of the pain and not because of sentimentality! More tea was sipped. The throbbing in her head was receding and much faster than she thought.

Winter, she noted when she pushed through the haze of pain, had drawn closer, the hardness gone from her eyes. Did she care? Why would she care?

There was not a knock at the front door. It could not be a mere knock, because a polite rap at the door would insinuate someone on the other side was asking politely to be noticed and for the door to be answered. No, it was a savage pounding which shook dust and cobwebs from the highest reaches of the town hall’s ceiling. Picture frames bearing the likenesses of various ponies fell to the floor. The two chandeliers swayed overhead as if they were at sea. A second, more powerful rap of impending doom struck against the wood of the doors, the timbers cracking.

The guards scrambled to open the door, open! Winter was shouting, though not out of fear for her companions nor herself, but for city property under brutal assault. She knew who was rapping, rapping at that barnyard door. It was too late, and she cried out, ponies dove for cover. For on the third strike upon that poor, poor door, Lucifer came, for there could be no other name fitting for the ebony furred beast that burst through.

Rachnera was already moving, skittering up the wall and up into the rafters, the better part of valor crying out ‘self preservation’.

A minotaur, the largest she had ever even heard of strode through, with bits of door clinging upon his broad shoulders. And...was that a door knocker hanging off one of those bull horns? He was larger than a nightmare, his eyes blazing like burning embers, searching, frantic, a hungering search, until they lifted upward and found the Arachne.

The most terrifying...moo? Rachnera had ever heard rolled from his lips like a thunderstorm. A snigger began, then erupted from her. She nearly fell from her perch as laughter unbidden overcame her fear, and she was left teary eyed and clutching her sides. Her aching head was forgotten, as the most ridiculous sound came from the most terrifying creature she had ever seen. This was absurd! Her fears were coming out as laughter and with it, she felt, went her sanity.

This confused the minotaur, who made another—more of a questioning and confused—moo to Winter.

Rachnera only laughed harder, waving her apologies at the brutish man bull.

Which confused him even more.

Author's Note

Yes! The Minotaur language in all its glory!

4. Do They Have to Watch?

Author's Note

...feels relevant...or just cool to listen to while reading. I dunno. You guys decide!

4. Do They Have to Watch?

Edited by TuxOKC

Since it was a barn, it only made sense to Rachnera there would be animal noises to go with it. The ponies insisted she come down, making whinnies and snorts, while the minotaur argued with Winter, his words blending with cattle sounds. Yet Winter seemed to understand him without any problem and whickered at him in profound disappointment. A meaty fist with a pointing finger was jabbed at the Arachne with emphasis as he spoke. The minotaur had an Italian flair to his body language, pointing (a lot) at Rachnera, while making a helpless wave at the door as he explained himself.

Understated would have been to just call him impressive. His thick, long white beard bore three braids bound by leather and bone. His hair was done in the same fashion, though were more dreadlocks than braids. There were old patterned scars, (tribal markings?) along the left side of his face. An etched steel nose ring gleamed in the light of the candles. The bull was dressed from head to toe in chainmail, though no weapon was in his hand. He had used his fists as weapons and smashed the door down in three heavy strikes.

Lucifer continued to jab a finger at Rachnera, his intent not quite diplomatic in her eyes. Not afraid of him (though his spectacular entrance had been startling and unsettling), she instead drew herself into a corner, drawing her legs close to her body, studying this living mass of flesh and muscle with a cool gaze.She trembled, the laughter having died. No, afraid was far too weak a word to use. She had no intention of even entertaining the idea of fighting him. There was too much risk of injury no matter how confident she might have felt. Besides, she was not a trained warrior, far from it! There below her was a killing machine!

The ponies, she noted with interest, were putting themselves in between Lucifer and herself. They were afraid of the bull, afraid of the Arachne, but put themselves in a position that was at that moment the least desirable to be in.

She was...baffled. How did those tiny horses know what the mooing was and how did that Viking cow know what the neighing meant? Was a pig going to show up and oink the Gettysburg Address? Did a chicken lurk nearby ready to recite haikus in Ye Olde Cluck?

There was weird, as in what went on back at the home of her Host Family on a daily basis, then there was this. The weirdness had levelled up and was now stranger than ever.

None of them knew Japanese, a proper civilized tongue. Or any human language, for that matter. That was civilized. This, she blinked at the mooing and neighing, was nonsensical animal noise pretending to be conversation. Being a cynic through personal experience and observation, Rachnera thought this language barrier was more than likely to cause her more grief than was necessary. Her thoughts altered and she found herself hypocritical, which went against her own beliefs. A moment of weakness, she simmered, upset at herself for having such thoughts. There had to be a way to learn their language without sounding so...so! Such a confusing place!

The idea of encouraging the translation spell, or whatever it was, to again be used on her had the prospect of turning her brain into mush. If Winter Shimmer was to be believed, future use of the magic on her did not sit well with the Arachne. Lady Luck had to this point showered her with good fortune and it would be just a matter of time before that would pass. The bad luck would come, Rachnera was sure of it.

Random was somewhere in his room, no doubt thinking about what he had done. The poor child had only been trying to help her. Rachnera understood this and could not hold a grudge against innocence. She had seen it in his eyes, the trust he developed with her almost immediately after getting over his fears. Such a sweet boy, but having to deal with the adults below her..?

Another minotaur entered the barn...er, town hall. This one much smaller than Lucifer. Her coloration was that of a Red Danish dairy cow, red and brown, with small horns. Her rather plain brown mane was in a pair of pigtails and she wore a simple floral pattern dress of white and blue. In her hands she carried a tray. Her brown eyes scanned the door, then rolled as she let out an exasperated sigh. Was she related to Lucifer? It was hard to say, though from the way she bore her eyes into the back of the now wildly gesticulating bull, there was some sort of relationship between the two.

The table Rachnera had been at was still in one piece. The cow placed the covered tray on it and immediately began berating Lucifer in Cow...ish?

“Ridiculous,” Rachnera muttered under her breath. Her hands were still bound with rope. As she clung to the corner of the wall and ceiling, she debated an escape before all the stupidity gave her an aneurysm. The farce that were her bindings were taken care of with the help of one of her legs. She rubbed her wrists more out of habit than from the ropes being tight. The chitinous armor covering her arms and hands had prevented the feeling of little more than discomfort.

She adjusted her sweater and again went still, watching the silly drama unfold on the floor below.

Lucifer wanted to smash.

Winter would not let him smash.

But there was a spider in the corner in need of much smashing, Lucifer was insisting.

No, Winter was telling him, he was not to smash the spider, because the spider was under her protection, so smashing the spider was out of the question.

The minotaur fell to pleading for the chance to smash.

Winter insisted there would be no smashing. She pointed at the door with a hoof. More ponies were poking their heads in. The commotion of Rachnera’s confinement along with Lucifer’s interesting method of opening doors had drawn a crowd. It was possible the entire village was now staring in, if not through what was left of the front door, then through the glass windows. Public smashing might offend any ponies watching, Winter seemed to be saying.

At least, that was the conversation Rachnera thought might be going on. She was certain she was in the ballpark. Her eyes fell to the tray on the table. She could smell food. Delicious, mouth-watering food! Her stomach rumbled.

The second, smaller minotaur spotted Rachnera and stared, slack-jawed. At least she wasn’t pointing at the Arachne like a fool. Through her furred face, she appeared to pale a bit, her attention shifting when Winter spoke to her in a much more mollified tone. The cow asked Winter a question, motioning to the food tray. Winter replied, nudging her muzzle towards where the Arachne watched. The cow spoke up to her, motioning for the spider monster to come down and eat. Rachnera pointed at Lucifer and shook her head.

The cow scowled and began another tongue lashing of the bull, who was by now looking less and less formidable. He had two women ganging up on him and that was a battle he was not going to win. The door knocker swayed with his motions until the cow noticed it, made a face, and plucked it loose from his horn. She then handed it to Lucifer. A sheepish expression along with a slump of his massive shoulders ended the conversation. He turned and trudged back the way he came, stepping over shattered wood and through the parting sea of gawkers.

Rachnera dropped down on a thread, her front four legs reaching for the floor while keeping her arms crossed over her breasts in a show of disapproval. The cow backed away, now having a good look at Winter’s ‘guest’ and swallowing hard. A nervous, all too fake smile graced her muzzle and she removed the tray cover, revealing a plate of baked fish fillets smothered in salt, pepper, and melted butter. A wedge of lemon was on the plate, as well as what appeared to be a thick bowl of vegetable soup. Half a loaf of bread also beckoned, this one appearing to be warm and fresh.

“It’s okay,” Rachnera told her, “you can fear me. I don’t mind.” She was salivating at the smell of food. Pointing first to the tray, then herself, she asked, “For me?”

The cow nodded, letting out a small, short moo. Yes.

Clasping her hands together in delight, Rachnera made a polite bow to the minotaur.

Meanwhile, a makeshift cover for the door was being put up by some of the guards. They appeared to be drapes. More had gone outside to disperse the crowd while Winter whinnied out orders. Rachnera was sure she had been seen by more than a few unwanted eyes, but that was the bull minotaur’s fault, not hers. Not an ideal outcome, but what was done was done. The tray had a knife and fork and not chopsticks as she was used to. Western utensils were not foreign to her.

Smiling at the cow, Rachnera said, “Thank you!”, pressing her hands together and again inclining her head towards her server. Let it not be said the Arachne was ungrateful in the land of pastel ponies and their minotaur friends!

Setting herself before her food, Rachnera paid no heed as she was being watched and dug in with gusto. The portions were generous and greedy hunger glinted in all six eyes. The first bite was heaven and she chewed enough to enjoy the flavor before the next fork full of fish was en route to her lips. Humming happily as she ate, the Arachne focused on quieting the beast that was her stomach, taking care to observe polite table manners. Soon the plate was devoid of the delicious fish. The soup was hearty and soon followed suit.

Smiling at the minotaur woman, she thanked her again as she sipped cold tea. Did they have coffee here? Winter appeared to be in a better mood, probably because the spider monster had just eaten and was for the moment slightly less of a threat than before. Rachnera wished she could understand horsespeak and cowmoo. It would have gone well with her animalistic desires.

She snickered at her own bad joke. I’m funny! I’m not funny. I am terrible at humor unless my mind is in the gutter and it often is or if it’s me practicing my rope play at the expense of others.

Winter pointed at her hands, her voice terse as she narrowed her eyes.

“It was a terrible job,” Rachnera told her with a grin. “Not tight enough.”

The unicorn drew closer, her voice low and commanding.

“Fine! Fine!” The Arachne put her wrists together and held them out towards the pony. “You don’t have to be gentle, this time. I do have experience. The safe word is Honey!”

Okay, I’ll admit, I’m probably only funny in my mind. She needed sleep. Her mind was doing funny things and it was making her lose control of herself. That would not do.

Her hands were bound again, this time with iron manacles. They must not have had them when they first found me. Tch. Weren’t expecting something like me the first time.

None of the ponies understood what she had said, but it did make her feel better. In the past few hours she had gotten a decent idea of at least the mindset of the leadership. Winter Shimmer seemed to be fair, a practitioner of the laws, be they local or national. Her soldiers obeyed and trusted her judgement. There were no cries of outrage coming from the curious villagers outside, which lead the Arachne to believe they trusted Winter to keep them safe from the spider monster inside the town hall/barn.

The minotaur girl was odd. Her head was bovine, like Lucifer’s, instead of the more humanoid faces from the minotaurs back home. Nor did she have the larger busts most minotaur girls had. The proportions were more in line with a human girl. There was far too much fur and far less beauty humans would find appealing. The Arachne found this refreshing and appreciated what she saw, even if it was strange. The minotaur cow threw off her sense of what was natural. There was no simple matter of shrugging it off, but this was not her world. That mantra was constantly going through her mind.

It might have been slowly eating away at her own sanity.

Rachnera sighed. At least she could still drink her tea, even if it was cool. She watched as Winter spoke at length with the cow, indicating every once in a while at the Arachne. The unicorn spoke with slow words, trying to ease the worry etched on the bovine face. Every objection was met with gentle but firm assurances.

Rachnera had her thoughts racing to what she heard about Lucifer, before the Spell of Potential Vegetablehood had faded. If he was the innkeeper and the minotaur girl worked at his inn, then that would mean a bath. Everything made sense and the level of excitement went up a notch.

What time was it? It had to be well past midnight. Was dawn approaching? Rachnera didn’t know. With how quickly the sun had set and the moon had risen right after, was dawn even trustworthy? Was this one of those magical worlds that even liminals believed to be nothing more than imaginative fiction? Rachnera was uncertain, but she didn’t want to go down that rabbit hole again. She had to keep her thoughts in the present and work towards the tomorrow she wanted. It was not going to be easy.

First thing she needed to focus on was understanding the language without her brain being turned into a slurpee. Now, Rachnera liked Random Rhubarb Shimmer. He was honest, as most children were, before life and society corrupted them. He was curious, showed a promising amount of intelligence for one so young, and was not afraid to approach a monster in hopes of making a friend. That was, in Rachnera’s mind, what made him such an endearing little scamp. She did hope to see him again. Such adorableness was infectious!

Winter finished speaking to the as of yet unnamed minotaur and motioned for Rachnera to come. The unicorn whinnied out some orders. Guards moved with purpose after a chorus of what could only be affirmatives. They formed up around the Arachne. None she sensed were at all comfortable being this close to her, but she was ushered towards the side door from earlier. They moved through a small series of offices and through another door leading outside. Winter led the way, her horn lighting up the moment she stepped into the night. She turned and beckoned at Rachnera with a hoof to hurry.

The minotaur had already gone ahead.

It was not difficult to see where they were going. Rachnera caught glimpses of the village residents. Some guards were busy distracting them while others followed after the minotaur girl to maintain a clear path to the inn. It would not do to start a panic at the sight of the spider monster. The mission was not difficult, seeing as most of the population was still milling around the front of the town hall, but there was always the chance of the unexpected encounter happening. Winter Shimmer was keen to avoid such an incident.

The inn was halfway down one of the main roads between the village center and its edge. It was two stories tall, thatched like most of the other buildings, and was the most inviting place Rachnera had seen. The prospect of bathing was making her feel giddy with excitement. A girl needed to be clean and presentable, didn’t she?

The group moved across the street, along the side of the inn, and through another side door. This led into a sizable kitchen still holding the scents of the meal she had just had wafting to her nose. There was a common room they moved through, another side door, and down a small hallway. At the end of the hall was a double door, which was open. The minotaur cow was inside. A large cast iron tub awaited with water running from a faucet. There were some towels already placed on a small bench near the tub for the Arachne. The (renewed) terror-filled eyes of the bovine girl were unmistakable and she was not even trying to hide it.

“Oh,” Rachnera cooed with delight, “oh, it’s just what I want. It’s just what I need!” her voice purred from her throat. She took great care not to antagonize her hostess, though Winter gave her a warning snort. “Calm down, you tiny, horny horse. I have no intentions of going on a terror spree. I just want to be clean.” She threw her bound hands at the tub and kept her attention there.

The minotaur left with a muffled moo, which could have translated as, “Please let me know if you need anything else” to “Nope, nope, nope, nope, and hell no!”, or anything in between.

Ignoring her, Rachnera turned to Winter and held her manacles to the unicorn. The horn flared and they dropped, only to be caught by a glow and floated into a pouch. The mare gave a pointed glare, which the Arachne understood.

Behave.

Rachnera nodded with a smile and immediately removed her sweater, pulling it over her head and letting it fall to the floor. She did not bother to wait for the guards to leave, nor did she care if they stayed or left. A moan escaped her lips as her breasts were free to feel the cool air. Their perky bounce did not go unnoticed.

She was not behaving.

Behind her, there was a mad scramble as Winter herded her guards out. Rachnera paid them no heed as she checked the temperature of the running water and spent a moment fiddling with the knobs. There was a lever for a shower head. It was turned. She could not handle hot water (not for lack of trying in the past), but something warmer than the air in the room would suit her just fine. With her hands covering her breasts, she turned and smirked at Winter.

No, this was the opposite of behaving.

Winter was not amused. Rolling her eyes, she pointed a hoof at the tub, and neighed. Her eyes pierced into Rachnera’s, which made the Arachne let out a throaty chuckle. Ponies, she had noticed, were too adorable with those eyes to be taken seriously. One leg, then another, and another; all eight went into the tub as fingers touched and adjusted the knobs one last time.

Winter sat down on a bench, muttering under her breath. Her voice rose, calling out. One of the other mare guards entered the room. Closing the door behind her, she looked at the unicorn who spoke (whinnied, neighed, snorted...Rachnera would have liked to have known what was being said). The mare joined Winter on the bench and both settled down to keep an eye on the spider monster. The very sensual and very teasing spider monster.

There were oils and soaps and shampoos in a basket sitting on a stool by the tub. The liminal delighted in taking the time to sample them. She found one to her liking, with a lavender scent. This was not a Japanese bath, but more of a Western style. There would be no soak, and that was unfortunate. At least she could get clean. For the next several minutes, she busied herself to the task, ignoring her guards and focusing on removing several days worth of dirt and grime caked everywhere. There was a handy shower brush she was more than glad to use. She paid attention to the segments and joints of her lower half before attending to her human half.

It was a horror show for the poor ponies, she noted from their expressions. There was a shower curtain. She paused in her cleaning and gripped the end of it, arching a brow at Winter. The mare, shaking visibly, nodded. Her subordinate had adopted a fake smile. Her expression suggested she had no idea what she was looking at, but it was a mix of horror and wonderment. Beauty and monstrosity was before the eyes of the ponies and it confused them to no end. Seeing a part spider, part human monster bathing had to have been one of the strangest, weirdest, most disturbing things they had ever witnessed.

A deep throated chuckle thrummed from the Arachne and she clucked her tongue at them. It was an admonishing with a smile that teetered between predation and playfulness. She pulled the curtain shut and resumed her shower, hoping that would be an end to that. It was every bit as odd to her as it was to them. Resuming the process of cleaning every square centimeter of her form, she ignored her guard. It always took some time to clean herself. Being four times larger than the average human female with many, many more places requiring attention made bathing an engaging process. Nothing could be neglected. Once her second thorax was clean, she moved on towards her second abdomen, then worked out to her legs. She was meticulous with each one, humming to herself as she went.

She repeated the process for her first abdomen and first thorax. Again, she was attentive to her body, lathering up with lots of soap. It was a lengthy shower and she finished by washing her hair.

A searching hand reached for and grasped a towel that had been provided. Drying herself off, she was still humming, happy to be clean again. She felt renewed. Wrapping the towel around her bust and waist, she stepped out of the tub, stretching out her legs as she did so.

Rachnera paused when her eyes fell upon Winter and the guard. Still humming, she noted they had their eyes closed and were swaying to her music. Smiling, she continued her wordless song. As she did so, on impulse Rachnera reached out with both hands and with great care with her sharpened fingertips, scratched both ponies behind their ears. They hummed in pleasure, almost matching the Arachne’s tune. Her own song was briefly interrupted by the laughter bubbling from her lips. Both mares leaned into the scratching, the guard thumping a leg as fingers found a sweet spot.

This was delightful! Rachnera’s smile was borderline predatory as it grew wider.

Toying with the idea of a little bit of rope play, she decided against it for practical reasons. Her imagination needed little coaxing as she played a scene of exploring the articulation of pony forms into compromising positions. It made her giggle again before pulling her fingers away and ending the pleasuring of the ponies. She bent down and plucked her sweater from the floor while the ponies recovered. She was folding the garment when Winter’s horn glowed with a brighter light than usual.

An apologetic smile followed and the world flashed.

Rachnera yelped, covering her eyes with her sweater. A sudden wave of vertigo washed over her and she was dizzied. It happened in an uncomfortable moment, but when the world stopped spinning, the shaken Arachne lowered her sweater to glare at Winter, words forming on her lips.

Winter Shimmer was no longer there. Rachnera was no longer in the bath, for that matter. Instead, she found herself in a room surrounded by stone walls. Two of the walls had barred windows. A heavy wooden door wreathed in iron was before her. There was a cot and a toilet and nothing else. The stone floor was bare, save for a couple of throw rugs. A neat stack of blankets and a pillow was arranged on the cot.

“Oh,” she realized. “That’s no way to make friends, Winter. I am disappointed.”

5. Who Let the Dogs In?

Author's Note

I do believe this chapter pretty much warrants the Mature rating, so this is where the story deserves it. Some may disagree, but the writing later on will have people spewing coffee/rum/soft drinks/water at their screens (If that hasn't happened already. For that, I...take no responsibility!). I also don't want a PM from one of the moderators (who I am sure is enjoying this story) telling me that somebody flagged this as inappropriate for the Teen rating. So, let's be descreet, shall we?

In the meantime, please enjoy, leave a comment if you feel you want to, and don't forget to show Rachie a little love!

5. Who Let the Dogs In?

Edited by TuxOKC

Rachnera sighed as she took in her new accomodations.“Why am I not surprised?”

The room was large and modestly furnished. The walls were painted a lighter hue of blue. There was even a working sink and toilet in one corner. There were throw rugs on the floor, a bed in another corner with fresh linen, folded blankets and pillows. A small breakfast table (missed that!) was nestled in a third corner beneath two windows, one in each wall. The fourth nearest the door was bare. A single light bulb dangling from the ceiling lit the room. The only walls without a window was the back wall and where the door was.

A finer prison cell there never was.

The Arachne stared at the light, moving a finger to tap the glass. Her hand shook and she balled her fingers into a fist, pulling them away. She frowned, “They have electricity here? I didn’t even see any wires outside. They must keep it underground because of the winged horses.”

Although disappointed in Winter Shimmer (and still reeling a bit from the method of transportation used to move her here), Rachnera felt she understood the reasoning behind the unicorn’s actions. Magic was a thing and though she was screaming internally, the Arachne exhibited remarkable (albeit tentative) self control of her emotions. It was about the only thing she did have control over.

I am not afraid. I am in control of what I feel. I am in control of what I am. I am in control of who I am. I. Am. Not. Afraid.

Fresh memories of Lucifer left her shuddering.

Brushing aside thoughts of the Bull from Hell, Rachnera explored her cell. The room was nice—for a prison—and was large enough for Rachnera to fit in and even move around. It had the feel of having been converted from something else, perhaps a storage shed or something of the like. The ceiling was high enough for a hammock. Arachnes did not use beds. They made hammocks with their own silk. With nothing better to do, she did just that. It was a simple thing to do. While she was at it, Rachnera decided to web every centimeter of her new home. Doing so would offer comfort.

The reaction from her hosts would be worth it.

As she worked to make herself comfortable, Rachnera wondered what was in store for her. Logic suggested the ponies did not want to hurt her, based on her treatment. It had been strange, but it was as though they had gone out of their way to appease not only their terrifying guest, but also those who lived in the village. It was a tough responsibility and Rachnera was glad she did not have to deal with the politics directly. She knew she was already a political hot potato for the local authorities. No doubt Winter Shimmer was pulling her hair (mane?) out in figuring out how to manage the Arachne’s presence.

Aware she was being watched as she worked, Rachnera would on occasion glance over at the windows. Eyes were peering in, wide and staring.

Remembering she was bare chested, the Arachne used an arm to cover herself. She was not keen on putting her sweater back on. It was dirty and needed to be cleaned. Content to tease (or horrify) her audience, Rachnera gave her work a critical eye, pausing to consider how much silk should go in certain places. To hell with what the ponies thought, she was going to have a comfortable jail cell if there was going to be any amount of time confined within it!

The windows were small and barred. They were large enough for a pony face to peer in and see. Each one had a guard. No doubt they have orders to watch closely, Rachnera thought with a smirk, mindful to not show them too much. She could use a blanket to cover herself, but it would not look right on her. Form fitting garments were always preferred as she did like to show off the curves. Instead, she covered the windows with her silk, clucking her tongue at the guards trying to look in.

“Naughty ponies,” she cooed at them as she barred herself from prying eyes. “Naughty, naughty adorable ponies. You like to watch, don’t you? Just can’t get enough of me. Whatever shall I do with you all?”

They whinnied in protest. The silk did little to muffle their voices. Rachnera belittled them with her laughter. Finishing up the windows, the hammock beckoned. With nothing better to do than wait, the Arachne settled herself into it. In time, a pony would come through the door and something was going to happen. Nothing violent, she surmised, folding her arms and laying her head on them.

Casual observation informed her these ponies were not violent by nature. They were protective and, judging by the minotaurs, tolerant of other species. Seeing something like Rachnera Arachnera had caused a few mild heart attacks (and some nosebleeds).

It was still morning. Rays of sunlight filtered through the webbing covering the windows. The guards spoke with each other, their conversations anything the Arachne could think of. According to her, they were dirty little stories involving a domineering and beautiful and experienced spider girl teasing virgin pony boys. It was something to pass the time, but as the morning wore on, at some point she dozed off. Rachnera considered herself for the most part an open-minded girl, but boredom would always be boredom.

She dreamed of home, of Honey, of taking him and making him hers. Rachnera tasted his lips, her hands sliding down into his pants before shaming him. Yet, he would always know what to say, to make her like putty in his hands. The teasing, always the teasing meeting his honesty and uncanny gift for seeing through Rachnera’s fronts. And always he resisted her advances, his efforts herculean and never failing. Honey played hard to get because he had morals and scruples, which made the dreams all the more fun.

It was one of those dreams to make a girl hot and bothered, where things were both simple and complicated, blurring before becoming too steamy as the dream transitioned to something else.

The door opened. Cracking three eyes open, Rachnera observed a pony walk through the door with a covered tray on its back. It paused, letting its eyes adjust to the dimmer light. It was a unicorn, a male, and he was just now drinking in how much altering Rachnera had done to the cell. He shuddered, looked up, and saw the spider monster looking at him with a sleepy gaze.

Whatever was under the cover of the tray smelled wonderful.

Rachnera waved her fingers at the pony. “Hello, handsome,” she murmured before yawning. Pointing at the table she added, “There’s fine.”

He gave her a nervous smile, nodding. Nostrils flared as his tail flicked a few times. His horn lit up and the tray floated from his back to the table. It hesitated a few times as navigating through spider webbing was a bit tricky. Once on the table, the unicorn managed a shaken whicker before backing out of the cell. The door swung shut from the outside and made a gentle click before the lock was secured.

“Nice talk,” Rachnera sighed as she stretched. “Such a nice dream.” She felt wetness between her pedipalps and giggled, “Such a very nice dream.”

Cleaning herself up, Rachnera hummed, remembering. It was something to cling to, a hope of sorts resonating in her heart. Weaving for herself a shirt and a skirt fitting around her humanoid waist, she wished she had the right instruments for proper weaving. Making due with her quick fingers and dexterity, the garments she created would do for now. She wanted to figure out a means of communicating with the ponies not involving an imminent threat of brain damage.

Lunch was a fish soup. It was complimented by a fruit salad and fresh bread and butter. Rachnera was ravenous, as spinning threads tended to stoke her hunger. Rachnera reminded herself to thank the chef, should she ever find a safe means of communicating. She suspected the minotaur lady had prepared the meal.

Not as good as Honey’s cooking, but not bad at all.

Some time later the tray was retrieved (by a pegasus this time), with Rachnera lazy in her hammock and waiting for something to happen. She had started to pay close attention to the unicorns and had been spending time between dozing thinking about their auras. Each one, she noted, had a different color when their horns lit up. Was it because of her ability to see ultraviolet light? She intended to find out, since her curiosity could at times be insatiable. How strong was this magic? It had to be magic. Or some iteration of physical manipulation on a telekinetic level. Something like this would not be seen on the human world. Liminals with such abilities were secretive about it. If there was something humans were good at, in Rachnera’s opinion, it was taking something they were afraid of and destroying it out of fear. There was a reason some liminals refused to reveal themselves to humanity, despite the Interspecies Cultural Exchange Act passed by the Japanese government. Other national governments had since passed laws on integrating liminals with humans in hopes of a peaceful coexistence.

Magical liminals did exist, but kept to themselves. Some scars could not or would not heal.

Was there a connection between this world and the human one? Rachnera hoped so. Her own knowledge was sketchy at best, bolstered by stories she had learned as a young child. Of course, there were rumors, always rumors among liminals. In between stories and speculation was always some tale involving magic.

Rachnera had already been subjected to this magic, twice. No matter how she tried to break down what happened, she was baffled.

She was now incredibly bored. At least if she knew the language, she could tease the guards to amuse herself. Warm, lovely, sadistic conversations were stimulating, got the gears between the ears churning, and did wonders for blood circulation. The reactions were priceless. Alas, there was the issue with said language and she wasn’t about to flaunt the goods callously. A good read would have been nice. She did enjoy learning facts and tidbits, for the most part as future ammunition for antagonizing her housemates.

But here..?

She was terribly, horribly bored.

Bored. Bored. Bored!

She muttered, “I wish something would happen.”

Nothing did. Rachnera had hoped something would. Alas, her words did not magically create a moment where something did happen. Wishful thinking? Smirking, she sighed, shook her head, and settled down to do the only thing available to her: slack off.

There was a sound.

At first, she assumed it was one of the guards scraping against the door while peering in. It stopped. Rachnera began to drift off again. The scraping began again. Opening her eyes, they roved over towards the door and she tilted her head to one side, holding her breath as she focused. It was not the door. The scraping grew louder. It was muffled and drew her attention.

The...floor?

No, beneath the floor. Digging. Something was digging. Not a pony. No, they were all outside, being a thin line...is it to protect me from the village or the village from me? Rachnera shrugged as she plucked herself from the hammock. Calling out to the guards would probably be the smart thing, but the Arachne was bored. Below, digging through the ground, was potential excitement. But who, or what was digging? They were moving fast, the scrape, scrape, scraping having a frantic urgency to it.

Rachnera removed her hammock and let the threads fall upon the bed. Assuming an ambush position on the ceiling, she waited in eager anticipation. Chitinous fingers flexed, razor sharp claws flashed.

The scraping was closer now. She could and should alert the guards. What was coming was unknown. But, Rachnera held the element of surprise.

The stone floor loosened with a pop as something pushed up from beneath it. It came up slow and easy, as if what was beneath it was wary and on guard. The stone was pulled down while the hole widened. Claws scrabbled and scraped, grabbed and ripped; the dirt and stone giving way as though it was nothing. The hole widened more until it was a meter or so across. Rachnera, curious, watched and waited.

There were dog sounds coming from the bottom of the hole. Wuffing sounds, along with a whine or two. A growl followed. A terrier head appeared. It was shaggy and had triangular ears. The fur was peppered and the snout was pink and black. Large brown eyes peered into the gloomy room. The nose sniffed, testing the air. Slowly the dog emerged, his eyes not at all liking what they were observing. Webbing was everywhere.

He did not see the six crimson slits glowing above him. The distance between the two was very short and the dog was already smelling something was off. He looked up.

Rachnera smiled at him. “Who’s a bad boy?” she whispered in a husky voice. Spider legs moved with blurred speed, silk already rammed into the dog’s mouth before his mind could register what was happening.

He was hoisted and spun, around and around and around. The spinnerets did their work. In seconds, he was dangling from the ceiling, bits of fur and his clothing (he was only wearing a dirty brown vest) poking through the cocoon. Bulging eyes stared as the dog tried to howl. Rachnera smiled, patted him on the head (adding a good scritch because she felt like it), and turned her attention back to the hole in the middle of her cell.

Another head poked up. This was smaller, a...dachshund? Ah, a weiner dog. Such a little weiner, too. The poor thing. He was half the size of his partner now dangling next to the Arachne.

Muffled yips and yelps were coming from the terrier. This caught the attention of the dachshund. With ears perking, he cocked his head to one side, and looked up.

Rachnera darted in, giggling. You spin me right round, baby! Right round like a record, baby!
Right round round round!

A smaller ball of silk now hung next to the larger one. A pair of muffled doggie voices could be heard. If left ungagged, they might have been yelps of pure terror. Rachnera was not done. There was at least one or two more dogs in the hole. One leg alternated between the two dogs, giving them a push so they swayed in the air. They tried to make louder noises, but there was a sudden, horrific and intimidating face switching between them, with glowing red eyes and a sadistic, fang-filled grin silencing them.

The dachshund passed out. His larger friend urinated on himself.

“Ew,” Rachnera said, recoiling. “Not housebroken. Right.” She moved him to the corner where he could soak and think about what he just did.

She lowered herself to the floor, her legs straddling the hole. Peering down, she saw a pair of eyes staring up at her. Rachnera smiled and waved before flicking her wrist down. Silk whipped from her fingers, the ends a glob of sticky webbing. They caught something and she gave a yank upwards, using her weight and strength as leverage. A flailing bipedal canine was her reward, this one what appeared to be a bulldog with a huge underbite. He snapped and snarled at the Arachne and succeeded in spinning in place while a free hand encouraged the action. Two spider legs began the process of wrapping him up.

The dog howled. It was the sort of sound one might associate with said dog being beaten to within an inch of its life. Rachnera wished she had a rolled up newspaper with which to smack him across the nose. Was that not something done when disciplining a bad dog?

The commotion had the guards outside moving and sounding the alarm. There was a whinny that might have been heard from the top of Mount Fuji. Rachnera arranged her prizes as a fisherman might arrange his catch of the day, from largest to smallest. The terrier was the largest, and he had peed himself, so he was furthest away.

The door swung open, a guard came snorting in. A spear was in one hoof, ready to strike. He had neither wings nor a horn. Rachnera noted with idle interest the winged guards were not often on the ground.

Sweeping an arm towards her prizes, Rachnera sang, “Look what I found!” She glided to one side, clasping her hands together, and was very proud of herself.

The guard threw a look over his shoulder let out a shrill neigh. A pony outside responded and there was the sound of hooves pounding the ground and fading away. He said something to the dogs. They whined and whimpered through their gags. Rachnera reached out with a hand and gave a lazy tug, sending the dachshund in a slow spin. Smiling still, she gestured as if giving the dogs to the pony, pantomiming the motion a few times. She then pointed at the hole in the floor.

“They came from there,” she said, speaking with deliberate slowness. “The dogs are for you.” Rachnera repeated the motions of gifting the dogs to the pony.

The guard seemed to understand, offering a nod as he let out an explosive breath. Snorting, he poked at some of the webbing in the room with his spear, tilting his head to one side and regarding the Arachne with a deadpan.

She shrugged, then placed her hands on her hips, “A spider’s got to spider.”

This inability to speak the same language was becoming annoying and frustrating. The guard seemed to have a clue and pulled his spear back. He examined the silk clinging to the steel before backing up enough to fill the doorway with his form. Rachnera met his eyes with her own. He held her gaze for a moment before his orbs dropped, stopped, and stared. It became an uncomfortable moment.

“Hey,” the Arachne said, thrusting her chest forward, “I’m up here!” Her legs skittered beneath her, tapping the stone floor. The pony stared up at her face, then down at her legs. He swallowed hard, gave a wan smile, and found the dogs interesting objects of study.

Rachnera rolled her eyes and snatched up her sweater from the cot. Not happy with having to put on soiled clothing...wait, why was it folded? Why did it smell fresh? Why was it clean? She held it up, gave it another sniff, and grew a pleased smile.

“Oh, that was sweet! One of you must have cleaned it while I was napping!” She put it on, mindful the pony was staring again at her breasts. Proud of her mounds, there was still the question as to why quadrupeds with mammaries situated between the hind legs of their mares would find them fascinating. As she pulled the hem of the sweater down around her waist, she said to herself, “Boys will be boys no matter how many legs they stand on, because of their cocks. If they find something interesting on a girl, they stare and they get hard.”

Smirking at the guard, she quipped while giving the dachshund another lazy spin, “Dicks. Dicks never change.” Rachnera pointed at the guard. “Oh, so you do keep yours in a sheath! That is so precious!”

The guard blushed, his ears splayed back. He shuffled his hooves to conceal his salute.

Rachnera went on, “For such a little guy, you have a bit of length there. I’ll bet you get all the ladies, don’t you?” She reached forward and tickled his chin with her fingertips. Mindful of her sharps edges, she went on, “I don’t think you guys are too bad. You’re strange, your world is strange, but you do seem a bit more accepting than most humans. Just scared of me, I suppose, and that can’t be helped.”

The pony guard was blushing, but did not pull away. It probably did not occur to him to not let the prisoner give him such nice scritches under his chin. A happy whicker erupted from his throat as he stretched his neck out for more attention.

More guards appeared behind the stallion. Helmets gleamed in the early afternoon sun. Was the day already that far along? Rachnera felt her nap had been longer than she had first thought. It had to have been if one of the ponies had managed to sneak in and out unnoticed at some point. Still, that was a thought to ponder another time, along with how they managed to put her in this cell in a wink of an eye.

The stallion backed out, allowing for more guards to swarm in. They stopped and gawked in amazement at the dogs. The dachshund was still spinning. The largest dog was still wet...and rank. The middle dog could not tear his eyes from the spider legs. Rachnera fell behind the dogs, putting her hands up and showing her palms. She hummed to herself and offered a smile. The ponies discussed the dogs among themselves, with more than a few glances tossed at the Arachne. They were nervous and still afraid of her.

They tried to pluck the dogs from where they hung from the ceiling, but Rachnera’s silk was very strong. They tugged and tugged, but the captives were held fast. One of the ponies looked up at her with big, hopeful eyes.

“Let me get that for you,” she acquiesced, raising high on her legs and reaching for the silk holding the dogs up. Nervous horse sounds were heard, but none bolted.

The ponies seemed to understand what she was doing and waited. They were pensive and wary of her. The dachshund was cut down with a casual swipe of her fingers. He was caught by two ponies and hauled out. The bulldog followed, wriggling still in his silk wrappings, eyes bugging and never leaving the Arachne. She wriggled a farewell with her fingers and blew him a kiss as he was taken outside. The terrier that had wet himself was next and a unicorn came into the cell, the others refusing to touch the dog. Rachnera cut him down and he was floated out.

The Arachne shivered. Seeing unicorn magic was uncomfortable, considering the potential dangers she had already been exposed to. Then there was what Winter had done. Some sort of teleportation? A transference? Star Trek levels of science fiction with a real life application? Or good old fashioned magic in a world where it seems to come as easy as breathing? There had to be limitations and weaknesses. What were the rules? How were they different from where she had come from? If the sun and the moon were a part of the magic (a muted, horrific realization that threatened to shut down the thought process), then known notions of physics and natural laws might not apply here. Magic followed its own rules, but they were still rules.

Rachnera had no idea what they were.

There was still the matter of the hole in the floor and the tunnel beyond. Two guards were at its edge and staring down into the darkness. The liminal’s pedipalps flicked and kicked out before tapping on the floor. She leaned over and joined them in staring into the abyss below. A forefinger curled around her chin. What were the dogs looking for? They weren’t armed, but if those claws tore through the ground as though it was nothing, weapons weren’t needed. They could also bite. The tunnel was maybe a meter in diameter, but there was no way of telling if it was wider or more narrow further in.

She hummed in thought, lifting her chin, “I think I see. Their children.” It made sense and both Random and his mother had mentioned the matter. The two ponies were stepping away from her. Rachnera made a show of cradling a baby. “They were looking for their children,” she pantomimed with her left hand as she spoke with slow, deliberate words.

They nodded, as if they understood and started talking excitedly to each other in their pony barnyard language.

There was an authoritative neigh at the door. The door was seeing a lot of traffic for a jail.

Winter had come. Her frosty attention was on the Arachne, who gave a simple wave. Roving eyes drank in the webbed room, then went back to Rachnera. The spider monster shrugged her shoulders and spread her hands in a helpless manner. A finger pointed downwards, bobbing like a cork. Winter tilted her head down and saw the hole. A sigh hissed out from between clenched teeth. The two guards spoke to her and her ears swiveled to them. Her eyes never left the tunnel at her hooves. When they finished, she was silent, her eyes still boring into the darkness.

She made curt horse noises to the two. Lifting her head, she beckoned at the Arachne to follow even as she turned and started for the door.

Rachnera stepped over the hole and skittered past the two guards, eager to get out of her cell.

6. Is This How You Make an Impression?

Author's Note

This chapter underwent a few rewrites, much to my frustration. As such, I forgot to keep my editor in the loop, to whom I deeply apologize for the lack of communication. It's been a hectic week as I sold my house and had one of the most stressful moments I can remember in a long time. As such, I more or less lost focus on certain things.

I think this flows a bit better than what had been written before.

As it is, the chapter remains unedited as I wish to keep with the promise of having a new chapter each Saturday at the latest.

4/6/19 Update: this story was edited and re-uploaded several hours after initial posting.

6. Is This How You Make an Impression?

Edited by tuxOKC

With the afternoon sun shining through a blue sky, the village had seen her this time. There was more curiosity than fear in the ponies that spilled out of buildings and followed the guards and their guest. Imagine a herd of horses wearing various articles of clothing following a (beautiful) spider monster being escorted by nervous armed and armored ponies. The scene had Rachnera smiling to herself while she avoided making lingering eye contact with them. Pony children darted around the group, running back to the adults, gaping at Rachnera. They were braver than their elders, making adorable little foal noises as they chattered with each other in excitement. The guards had a harrowing time fending them off as they wanted to take a closer look at the Arachne.

Winter Shimmer was exasperated and shouted out orders in her horse voice.

The Arachne found the little pony children to be just as adorable as Random. There were about a dozen of them or so. Their parents swooped in and herded them off, scolding their inquisitive foals. Fearful ponies looked at Rachnera.

Her smile died and she sighed. No change, no surprise there.

Once again, Rachnera found herself in the inn. The common room had a raised ceiling, much like the barn, with the rafters sporting tables for pegasi and other flying denizens of the land. There were two winged guards up there now, eyeing the liminal with caution. The room was half the size of the one in the town hall and smelled less like a barn and more like a proper inn. The wooden floor was swept and the worn furniture was dusted and clean. There was a massive hearth at one end of the room with a bed of coals being fed wood by the same wary minotaur cow from last night. To the left was a bar with shelves of bottles arranged in neat rows behind it. There were six round tables, each with four stools arranged in the room. Half the length of the floor was raised a step approaching from the entrance with wooden rails separating the two sections.

Along the walls were photographs (This caught Rachnera momentarily by surprise, considering the medieval feel of the village. Then she remembered the light bulb in her cell, which still left her no less perplexed.) of scenes with a certain black minotaur posing next to slain monsters. Most images were of just Lucifer with his monster, but there were a few with other hunters who might have shared in the hunt. A part of the liminal wondered why there weren’t any mounted heads adding to the decor, but she had to take solace in some of the tools of the minotaur’s former trade that were hung with pride instead.

So, the tavern felt welcoming. She could appreciate the armory mounted on the wall, the wooden beam supports, and the plastered walls. It gave the room a cozy and welcoming feel, far more so than the barn. There were stairs with no rails on both sides leading up to the second floor. Rachnera could only assume the rooms were upstairs on either side of the common room.

Lucifer entered the room, still clad in chainmail. The huge minotaur seemed not as bloodthirsty or destructive as their first meeting, but he glared at the Arachne with contempt. In one fist he carried a flagon made from a horn of an unknown beast. He stood behind the bar, leaning heavily on it as he drank.

The cow finished tending the fire and went around the counter. The couple spoke to each other in hushed tones, her hand touching Lucifer on the arm. She was half his size but still larger than Rachnera. A bovine smile came from the cow to the liminal. The Arachne smiled back. It never hurt to be polite and the inn did belong to the minotaurs.

“Thank you for letting me into your home,” Rachnera told them, giving a small bow of appreciation. She was trembling and had been since first laying eyes upon the massive beast man.

Lucifer grunted. The girl minotaur smiled and bobbed her head.

Winter Shimmer had already taken a table and was waiting for the Arachne. Another table. Tabletop diplomacy? Rachnera supposed it was preferable to running around in the woods and accomplishing nothing in the process. Sitting at a table meant civility was happening and violence was not the preferred method of dealing with things. As of yet, Rachnera did not think she had done anything to erode the trust of the unicorn. Capturing the dogs might have even lifted her standing in the eyes of Random’s mother.

Waiting for Winter was a very large unicorn stallion. He had a gray coat and sported a cropped, lighter gray mane with a pair of white streaks. A pony face worn and haggard regarded Rachnera with curious blue eyes. Random had inherited those eyes. He was armored like the mare, his helmet the same as hers. It rested on the table.

With him was another unicorn, a mare. She seemed familiar. This one was unarmored and sporting a powder blue coat and golden mane. She wore nothing more than a shawl. A pair of glasses rested on her muzzle. It was the doctor from before. The curiosity she had for Rachnera had no indication of fear.

Winter went up to him with a smile. He returned the smile and nuzzled her cheek. They spoke to each other in whispers, sharing looks and glancing at Rachnera. The stallion then turned to the blue mare and whickered. She moved to the table, her horn glowing. A book appeared from thin air and floated in front of her. Rachnera could hear the sound of pages turning behind the droning horse sounds she made. Snapping the book shut, the unicorn looked at the liminal with a studious eye, ending her horsey lecture with a nod.

A stack of papers on the table rose and floated towards Rachnera. They were crude drawings. The first one depicted a pony saying something, complete with a speaking bubble. The words in the bubble were gibberish, but the idea presented in the picture was understandable. The next drawing was that of Rachnera (it was rather insulting; a stick figure upper half with a bulbous lower half with legs everywhere) with her own speaking bubble. Her words looked like chicken scratch. Okay, language barrier. She understood that. The Arachne nodded to Winter.

The third drawing was that of a necklace with some sort of jeweled pendant. Around it were three unicorns (she thought that’s what they were) using their horns on it. The fourth drawing was of the same sad stick figure with the big spider butt wearing the necklace. It had a speaking bubble coming from the figure speaking the same words as the pony from the first drawing.

A translator? Rachnera hummed in thought. She pointed at the last drawing, then at herself. The ponies nodded. It sounded interesting. More magic? Did she want to be subjected to the magic of not one unicorn but three? A frown splayed out across her visage. Shaking her head, she sighed and rubbed her temples with a thumb and finger.

“No,” she uttered one word, head shaking. “No more magicking me, no more magic. No. More. Magic. Please.” The plea came out in a growl, her temper shortening. A long, chitinous leg came up and smashed down on the floor, making the table jump. Wood splintered as the impact gouged a hole.

She was smiling.

The shocked ponies could tell it wasn’t reaching her eyes. All six of them.

She showed them the drawing of the ponies using their horns. “No!” came her voice as she jabbed a finger at the image. “No more magic! Are we clear? Do you understand the words that are coming out of my mouth?” Crossing her arms over her breasts, she glared at the ponies, not at all sorry for her outburst. She was tired of it!

The drawing fell on the table.

Rachnera considered herself as having precise control over her emotions. The stress was getting to her and she knew it. A deep breath filled her lungs and she held it, closing her eyes. As she let it out, shoulders relaxed and she pulled the tip of her leg out of the fresh hole in the floor.

“Sorry about that,” she sighed as she reopened her eyes.

The two mares were exchanging looks while the stallion was outraged. With a stormy expression, he exploded in his horse language, launching a tirade at the Arachne. He came around the table, spouting unintelligible words because the language barrier was now the most amazing thing in the world. The neighs were shrill, going up several octaves as the indignant stallion was probably insulted in some way or another.

Then he got too close.

Rachnera moved and became a blur of motion. Thread was flicked up into the rafters with one leg while the pedipalps snagged the surprised stallion. He was pulled close, more legs reaching for him. The Arachne wore a determined, hungry look as she began to spin her prey, even as just now there was a reaction from the others. The stallion spun beneath her second thorax as silk spun from spinnerets. Soon, he was encased, Rachnera pulling with one arm on thread. He was hoisted in the air and dangling even as the reactions were just beginning to be set in motion.

Skittering away, Rachnera harrumphed as she turned her back to the ponies, her eyes seeking out and finding Lucifer. He had not moved from behind the counter, though his slack jaw and wide eyes suggested he was impressed.

Winter was under her husband, making panicky horse noises while he was also making the same sort of noises, with utter confusion added for good measure. He was swaying from his struggles. Horns were glowing. Attempts were made to tug the hung stallion from the beam. He and his silk were wrapped up in the odd glow Rachnera associated with magic.

“Neigh,” the Arachne spoke with sarcasm.

From behind his counter, Lucifer was bawling with laughter. Winter scolded him while still trying to free her husband. The minotaur pointed at the stallion and laughed harder.

For Rachnera, the odd sensation of fear had fled her. She eyed the minotaur with suspicion.

Shifting her legs, she turned to face Winter. “No magic, Winter. Do you understand?”

They were having difficulty breaking the thread. Lucifer, still chortling, came around the counter, his hooves thumping loudly on the floor. He bent over, hands on his knees, and said something to the stallion. The muffled reply had him guffawing.

With mollifying tones, Winter whickered. Rachnera was not sure, but perhaps the mare was agreeing to no more magic? Could things be done without use of the damnable cheating?

Now, as an Arachne, Rachnera was sensitive to certain things. The sense of touch was arguably the best of her senses. She could feel vibrations through the ground even without the use of her silken threads. In addition, as a predator, Rachnera could sense aggressiveness in potential prey (dangerous or otherwise). The combination of the two had saved her skin time and time again in her life. The sense of fear and dread she earlier experienced from the minotaur was gone, leading her to growing suspicion.

As it was, the tips of her legs had fine hairs. They were difficult to see and made her chitin appear to be smooth. They were fine enough to be unnoticeable unless one were to take a closer look. Through the clopping of hooves on the floor of the inn, Rachnera’s touch could feel vibrations through the ground and coming from outside. It was nowhere near as noticeable as she would have liked and the sense was ever so slight, but there were a lot of hooves moving towards her location.

She tensed, keeping her eyes on what she could see in front of her while her ears perked. For the moment, there was no aggression directed at her, but there was surprise and a little fear. Pony faces were very expressive, more so than on humans. Rachnera needed to have a sense of control. There had been little of that as of late. Magic had taken that from her and the Arachne found herself more than a little resentful.

No more magic, if she could help it!

The doors were flung open and ponies poured into the common room. The herd was milling around too much to get a proper headcount, but it was mostly mares with a stallion or two thrown in for good measure. They were in a panic, but it was not with the Arachne. Shrill whinnies fill the room and bled the ears. Winter’s ears perked and swiveled towards them as she tried to make sense of the chaos. Again, Rachnera found herself up in the rafters, moving with silent swiftness while the two pegasi guards watched her. They were wary, but did nothing else.

The ponies all went towards Winter, pausing only a moment to give the silk wrapped stallion baffled stares before shifting their attention back to the unicorn mare.

There was a tug at the tip of one of her legs. Looking down, Rachnera found the minotaur girl tugging on it and motioning her to come down. A table in the corner was being pointed at. Lucifer was already seated, his attention squarely on Winter as she dealt with her ponies. He wore a frown. The cow girl wore a gentle smile. The gentle lowing she was giving the Arachne was silly. Everything about this world was silly.

One of the guards waved at her to go with the minotaur. As the pack of panicked ponies propositioned their placating pony pacifier, Rachnera climbed down and joined Lucifer and his minotaur lady at the table indicated. A headache was coming on again and it had everything to do with what she just thought. This world was doing things to her. Did it understand the concept of personal space? She fit herself in the corner, keeping the table between herself and the ponies, while Lucifer scooted over. He was watching what was going on with concern.

The cow sat opposite from the bull. She smiled at Rachnera and fidgeted. No doubt unnerved by the spider girl, she still seemed to not mind too much. There was determination in her dark eyes. Her attention kept shifting between the ponies and her monstrous guest. Reaching with a hand, she tapped the Arachne lightly on the shoulder. In her other hand, she had a pendant dangling from a silver chain. Before Rachnera could say anything, the cow held up her hand and motioned for patience.

With a swift motion, the cow clasped the pendant around her neck. The gem flickered through the colors of the spectrum.

“Let’s see, is this thing working now?” the cow asked while she fingered the gem. Her voice was gentle and soothing. More important, she wasn’t mooing.

A double-take happened. Rachnera asked, her voice hesitant, “You can speak Japanese?”

The cow paused to register the words, a grin breaking over her muzzle, “No, I can’t, but this pendant”—she held it up—”lets you think I’m speaking Neighponese.”

“Japanese,” Rachnera corrected.

“That’s what I said, Neighponese.”

“But you just said—” A roll of the eyes and a helpless giggle. “It’s not important, is it?”

Lucifer snorted, his voice rumbling and deep, “Pony magic is strange. It is everywhere. It is used in almost everything. You have noticed, yes?” His crimson orbs never left the ponies. “You have met young Random Shimmer.” They shifted, found her, and smoldered. It was a disarmingly hellish look, as far as expressions went.

“I have. He seems like a curious child.” The crowd was pushing closer to Winter. She was trying to explain things while her husband was being poked and prodded. “What’s going on? I’ve seen a lot of strange things, but…” Rachnera frowned, “How are we having this conversation?”

“Pendant. Short range. Anycow within normal speaking range can be understood and they in turn can understand you.”

“I...see? So, why are you wearing it?”

“To prove it won’t hurt you. It’s not hurting me. All it does is takes the words spoken within a given range and make them understandable to both speaking parties.”

Lucifer rolled his eyes, “Lord Shimmer was going to force the thing on you before you did that”—he waved a hand at the still dangling stallion—”to him. Hilarious, by the way.” A cheeky grin followed, revealing long, sharp teeth.

Rachnera was impressed.

“Lord Shimmer is a good pony,” the minotaur went on, his voice low as he hunched his shoulders, “He just tends to get a little too intense when he makes demands. He likes others doing as they’re told, even if they don’t understand the language. I think the Canterlot nobility has an issue with common sense. Oh, and that’s my wife, Bria,” he grunted, giving a sidelong glance to the cow.

“Oh, by the stars, my manners!” Bria blushed through her blurred cheeks. Fingering the pendant, she held it up for the Arachne to get a better look. “Bright Luster began work on the gem as soon as Lady Winter asked for a means to communicate with you.”

“I made the chain,” Lucifer said, “set the stone. Bright worked on the enchantment with her magic. I don’t understand the intricacies of what exactly she did, but she is competent enough to be the town’s magic expert.”

“He hasn’t slept since the day before yesterday,” Bria said, giving a meaningful glare to her husband.

“Dear, I’m a monster. Once I saw her,” he gestured to Rachnera, “I knew she was in the same boat I was in when I first came here years ago. I was thinking of something else when I broke down the door.”

The ponies had calmed down, if the dying din was any indication. Lord Sunrise Shimmer was no longer dangling like a loogie. Now he looked like a fish wrapped in silk lying on the floor, still alive and flopping. Guards were sawing at Rachnera’s thread with knives in their mouths, taking great care not to slice away any parts of the lord in the process. Winter Shimmer fretted and paced in one spot.

“They wanted to see you,” Bria stood up and smoothed the front of her dress. “Give them time to sort their lord out. The farmers see you as a good omen, Miss Spider,” she smiled. “I’ll get us something to drink. The discussions could take a while. Ponies either panic or think things out in a group. There is no in between. This looks like a thinking herd today. But that might change.”

Lucifer barked out a short laugh.

The next few minutes were filled with animal noises as Bria and the pendant took understanding with them. An eyebrow twitched as Rachnera wore a pleasant smile. It was awkward. Lucifer paid little attention to her, save for a token nod and a polite moo.

Should she moo back?No, that would probably be taken the wrong way.

Did Bria do this on purpose, to show Rachnera she needed the pendant, that dependency was warranted? It served a purpose and opened many doors and possibilities. She found her attention following the wake of the minotaur cow, thoughts racing. Am I a good omen? It was curious to think of herself as such a thing, like a trinket, or a rabbit’s foot. Spiders bring luck?

Curiosity flew into her mind and made a nest. She noted some of the ponies trying to listen to Winter (and her husband, as he tried to look noble half out of his cocoon by now) would cast a glance or two at her, as if sneaking a peek with more wonder and less fear. Some whispered among themselves, pointing hooves. Curious indeed! Without thinking, Rachnera began to play with her silk, using her hands and fingers to create little webs. They danced and weaved, changing patterns at the will and whim of the Arachne. More than a few eyes were added to those already staring. Wondering whickers filled the room like a smokey, welcoming aroma.

Rachnera smiled to herself and pretended not to notice.

Bria returned, carrying a tray with cups set upon them. She weaved through the ponies, patting a few on the their heads. They smiled at her. Happy horse noises were exchanged with a moo or two. They kept a respectful distance from the table the minotaur and the spider were sitting at.

“Mooo-ght some chilled cider,” she transitioned from cowspeak to something understandable as she drew near. Drinks were set down. “Sweet Apple Acres stock. Always nice to have when panic is devouring the village.”

“Dear, that’s our best stock!” Lucifer growled as he picked up his drink. He looked into it, swirling the contents as he inhaled deeply. “What is the special occasion?”

“We are welcoming a new friend and properly, as though we were in our homeland,” Bria responded, smiling to Rachnera. “I can’t speak on behalf of the ponies, but you are welcome under our roof as a guest, so long as you behave yourself.” The change in tone was an artful thing to hear: a welcoming and a warning given with equal sincerity.

Rachnera smiled, lifted her cup, and sipped. Her eyes widened as the taste tickled her tongue, a spiced apple flavor exploding in her mouth. The taste was alive! “Oh, that’s good.”

“My private stock?” Lucifer protested. “Dear wife, I was saving that!”

“For what?” she retorted, “One of those nights of swapping stories with some old drunken farmers? Might I add you’ve begun repeating the recollections of The Battle with them several times.”

“But they like my stories.”

“And you enjoy their side of the battle,” she rolled her eyes and shook her head. “You males are all the same, no matter what species.”

Rachnera giggled into her cup. Bria flicked her ears and shifted her attention. “Miss Spider. Please take this pendant. This will make your life so much simpler. I can’t explain the more intricate details on how it works. You’ll have to talk to Bright Luster for the details. Please. The ponies mean you no harm. Can’t you trust them, if only to make it easier for yourself?” The necklace was unclasped and offered to the Arachne.

“I—” Rachnera hesitated.

Bria mooed and shook the necklace as she rolled her eyes.

It seemed it had to be worn in order to work. Swallowing her pride and yielding to common sense, Rachnera accepted the necklace and the pendant. She was unused to jewelry, having none herself. It was frivolous. Still, her nimble and slender fingers soon had the pendant dangling from her neck and nestled in the deep valley between her breasts. It felt warm and comforting.

“Can you understand me now?” she asked.

“Yes.” Bria settled into her seat and smiled. “It only works if it is being worn.”

Lord Sunrise Shimmer was finally free of his silken prison. He was helped to his hooves, offering a hateful glare at Rachnera that vanished as he turned his attention back to his ponies. There was a ragged (and half-hearted) cheer upon his freedom and the ponies pressed in, ears perked to listen as he spoke. Foals had appeared in the common room, filing in as they were watched over by a few adults.

“He’s telling them about his visit to the Diamond Dogs colony,” Lucifer offered as the voice speaking was out of range of the pendant’s enchantment. “They already told him about the three diamond dogs that were captured. Brilliant, by the way, from what I heard, Miss Spider. I don’t think you made a friend with his Lordship.”

“I don’t think the villagers mind,” Bria shrugged. “He’s still a Canterlot noble in their eyes. They have more respect for Winter. But he tries, which is more than what could be expected from a sheltered group of privileged aristocrats. He also knows better than to harm a spider, any spider.”

“Eight legs,” the bull murmured in his cup.

“Spiders remove pests,” Bria said as she put the empty tray on the counter. She held her own cup, gesturing at the Arachne with it. “A fool removes them from their garden. I’ve seen how some of the farmers look at her. They’re good omens.”

“Scared rabbits,” snorted Lucifer.

“For the most part, yes,” she conceded. “Ponies are skittish by nature. But give them time and they’ll be asking her to remove the vermin from their plots.”

Lucifer snorted over his cup, spewing drink over the table. He appeared upset with himself as the precious liquid was everywhere but in his belly, then glared at his wife. Her eyes were wide and innocent.

Rachnera laughed.

The Arachne, in the meantime, had no idea what to make of Bria. Was she trying to see past her fear? A closer look saw honesty in the bipedal bovine. Yes, the fear was there, but so was intrigue and hopefulness. There was no glint of hate or disgust, but a sense of wanting to overcome her fears and to understand the spider monster a bit better. Or was that a stretch? In terms of reading others, the liminal considered herself competent, though kept in mind her own cynicism for other species. Lucifer no longer seemed interested in smashing a spider, for the moment.

In the end, it took a pair of monsters to take another monster under their roof for protection.

Rachnera Arachne was fine with that.

7. Don't Adventures Start with Killing a Rat?

Author's Note

This chapter was a lot easier to write after I started the rewrites. A lot of what happened was a conflict of where I wanted to go with the story as opposed to how my happy fingers took them. So, two chapters, two rewrites (this one included).

This was originally going to be Lucifer and Rachnee walking along the road to investigate a possible Diamond Dog attack on a train station. As they went, Lucifer would tell the tale of the battle between the Minotaurs and the Ponies five hundred years ago. I've still got that chapter written, though unfinished. I think I will publish it as bonus content at the end of the story, as it is canon to this AU. I might even publish it as a side story.

But, alas, you get this chapter instead.

Enjoy! :twilightsmile:

7. Don't Adventures Start with Killing a Rat?

Edited byTuxOKC.

Rachnera Arachnera was given a spare room in the inn. At the insistence of the minotaurs (who was going to argue with Lucifer?), she was given freedom on the condition either Lucifer or Bria escort her. Lord Sunrise Shimmer was conspicuously absent after his ill-conceived attempt at ordering the Arachne to do something she couldn’t even understand to do because of the language barrier. Winter Shimmer was put out with both Rachnera and her husband, as both had handled the situation, in her opinion, poorly. The villagers seemed to take everything in wry amusement, mixed with trepidation and curiosity.

There was still fear, but it appeared so long as Lucifer tolerated Rachnera’s presence, then perhaps she wasn’t that horrible a monster after all. Foals were still told to keep their distance. Eventually the meeting of ponies in the inn with their unwrapped lord and flummoxed lady ended, with Rachnera hearing some rather disturbing revelations through the interesting pendant that allowed her to understand the horse words.

Three foals were missing. They had been missing for the past three days, all taken in the same night from their beds while they slept. Parents pleaded with their lord and lady for any news, for it was believed the Diamond Dogs had taken their children. The accused had a history, Rachnera discovered, of taking members of other species and enslaving them. Lord Sunrise Shimmer argued (in a patient tone he had not tried with Rachnera) the colony of dogs in question had never had a history of possessing slaves.

The dogs were traditionally miners and had once worked with the ponies of the region five hundred years ago, before The War had sundered the land and broken the ties between pony and dog. The friendship between the two had been forgotten. The Diamond Dogs became reclusive and over the centuries participated in very limited trading with the ponies of Shimmering.

The old ponies, the oldest of the farmers, uttered one word to sum up the calamity.

It was an old unicorn mare who cried out the word when her Lord and Lady did not or would not acknowledge the whispering. There was a distinct familial resemblance between her and Winter Shimmer. She walked on wobbly, knobby legs. Her mane was done up in a bun and a shawl was draped over her withers and shoulders. Despite her age, she held herself with grace and sureness.

“Changelings!” she wheezed, her voice shrill and cracked with age. “Changelings, I tells ye, Milord! Mark me words if’n the Fae ain’t marked us fer their sport! They snatch our foals, pits them dogs agin us. T’is changelings, mark ye! They takes our love and gives us spite in return, they do!”

“Fairy tales!” Lord Sunrise Shimmer responded with a roll of his eyes and a placating smile, “My good mare, surely you know better than to think a foal’s story is responsible for this. I’ll warrant there are rogues in the woods, bandits and slavers who are using the conflict between us and our canine neighbors to do their wickedness. I assure you, my dear,” he then raised his voice over the chatter, standing tall and proud, “and I promise all of you, my ponies, I will find those responsible and bring them to justice, so help me Celestia!”

The ragged response was less than enthusiastic.

“Beggin’ yer pardon Milord, but where’s the proof?” called out another villager, a stallion. “Me daughter is gone missing and I’ve heard nothin’ Milord. Beggin’ yer pardon, yer worship, but me foal is me life. Me third herd wife, Sweet Pot, she won’t leave me daughter’s room. Me little Flower, she’s gone! Flower Pot is only three years old. Please, Milord, please for me wife and me daughter, please I beg ye to bring her home.” He had shoved his way to the front of the crowd, and they made way for him, friends and neighbors patting him on the withers.

Rachnera saw a ragged father with bags under his sorrowful eyes. She nearly took off the pendant. Her fingers hovered over it, ears perked, not wanting to listen, and finding herself unable to do anything else but.

“Proof? Things must be done in a certain way. Investigations take time, even if it is of the essence,” Sunrise told the heartbroken stallion. “We can only move as quickly as the evidence allows us. I have had the guards scouring any and everything that might give us a lead. I am certain there are bandits in the woods, in the city ruins. I will personally lead an expedition. I assure you, my good stallion, no stone will go unturned. I will find the foals and I will bring them home. I promise you, they will be found.”

“What aboot the spider?” asked another earth pony, a mare. “She can get the Fae! She kin eat them out and keep the vermin from invadin’ our plots!”

Dozens of eyes went to Rachnera, who was in the middle of sipping from her cup. Not one for attention (unless she was looking for it), she took the sudden interest of her presence in stride. Why in the world would she want to eat a sapient being? She hoped the plots being spoken about were those that grew vegetables.

“I don’t think I—” she began, only to be interrupted. Fae? They have Fae here? In what form? Rachnera’s knowledge of Fae was sparse, little more than the basics. A changeling was believed to be a fairy child that had been left in place of a human child stolen by the fairies. There were other tales from Europe concerning fairies. But were fairies and these Fae the same or were they different?

“Absolutely not!” Sunrise thundered. “There are no Fae! There are bandits in the ruins and I intend to root them out! I will be setting out first light tomorrow morning with the entirety of the guard to ensure a swift victory!” His voice lowered to a more civil tone, “Besides, she’s a civilian and possibly a public nuisance!”

Winter Shimmer, who had taken a back seat while her husband dealt with the crowd, moved forward and leaned towards him, whispering in his ear. She was very stern. The unicorn stallion listened, as she was not giving him an option.

“Public nuisance?” Rachnera parroted to herself. “I prefer being a private nuisance, thank you very much.” Raising her voice, she tutted, “Still upset over our most regrettable misunderstanding? I thought you might enjoy the foreplay, cultural exchange and all that.”

Sunrise sputtered, Winter stared in horror, Lucifer drained the remnants of his drink, Bria froze in her seat, and the rest of the ponies became very confused. Chaos ensued as the man bull began roaring with laughter. His wife slapped him on the shoulder.

“Drinks are on the house!” Bria yelled as she stormed from the table. A lingering look at the Arachne came with a quick smirk. A cheer went up in the room, the declaration raising spirits considerably. “Husband,” her tone spoke volumes.

Lucifer rose, grumbling, and went to tend to his sudden customers. “Stay at the table and stop antagonizing the lord of the land,” he said to Rachnera.

“Eh,” she replied with a shrug, “I’ll think about it.” Her thoughts were still touching on the subject of Fae and changelings. As a liminal, she knew how much her own kind and other liminals had fashioned human legends and myths. Not being human, this gave her a different point of view.

“What about the Diamond Dogs the spider captured?” soared another question above the din of the crowd. “Lord Shimmer, what of them?” The crowd quieted with reluctance. The speaker was a mare, a unicorn.

Sunrise Shimmer spied her out. “They are to be released. A token of goodwill towards the colony.” He rolled a hoof for emphasis, as if to push the subject along and out of the way as quickly as possible. “There’s no need to push further animosity between our village and the Diamond Dogs.”

That’s pretty stupid, Rachnera thought as she considered the lord of the land to be a weak fool. Cupping her chin in her palms, she rested her elbows on the table and pony watched. A small smile perched on her features. Every now and again, she caught a view of the little ones, the foals as they darted around the legs of the adults. She thought of Random. There was a flash of light orange fur and red mane, but the there were too many ponies milling around to be certain.

“Beggin’ yer pardon, yer ladyship.” Rachnera was jarred from her thoughts. It was the old mare who had spoken of changelings. “Blessin’ upon ye and thankee.” She smiled, revealing many gaps in her teeth. “Biggest spider I ever seen, ye are. Pretty, too, methinks. The skull on yer backend, if’n ye don’t mind, t’is terrifyin’ ‘n loverly, it is. White agin the black, so pretty.”

Lucifer appeared, a black shadow among a colorful palette of pastel ponies. “Peggy!” he greeted her, his beard swaying with his movements. “How are you doing, old nag?”

She guffawed, “Still alive. Got me ale?”

A tankard larger than her head was placed on the table. “Sit your old bones, Peggy. Still going on about changelings?”

With effort, she managed to sit on a stool and scooted closer to the table (with a helping hand from Lucifer). Smacking her lips in anticipation, she took the tankard with both hooves and took a deep pull. Once done, the tankard was returned to the table and she let out an enormous belch. “The Fae are real, ye shite-filled bull,” she gave him the stinkeye. “Me hubby, me Treeminder, ye remember his stories?”

“Treeminder told the best stories,” Lucifer agreed as he pulled up a seat.

“He could spin a yarn, he could, and I loved ‘im fer it,” Peggy sighed, her eyes bleary shifting from the bull to the Arachne and back again.

Rachnera shifted her bulk to make herself more comfortable. “Changelings? Fae? They are something in my world, but I do not know if they are like the ones you have here.”

“Do it matter?” Peggy took another drink. “They take ‘n give nuthin’ back. I suppose it do matter. Yer a nice spider. Spiders are a blessin’ tae us poor farmers, they is. Ye kin make ‘em run. Changelings, they don’t like spiders. They know. Ye know.”

An eyebrow quirked as the Arachne regarded this blunt old mare. “How would I know?” she asked.

Peggy glared, “Ye be foolin’ with me head? Harmony will guide ye, if’n ye listen to yer heart, girl. Celestia preserve ye, give faith to yerself ‘n the magic’ll flow inta ye ‘an ye kin find yer purpose. Harmony will guide ye, mark me words.” A sage nod was added for emphasis.

“Harmony? I am a stranger in this country. Do you mind explaining to me what Harmony is?”

Winter Shimmer joined them, a glass of wine in her telekinetic grip. “Hello, mother. Are you bothering our guest?”

“I am,” Peggy replied as she accepted a nuzzle from the younger mare. “She’s interested in the botherin’.”

Turning to the Arachne, she said, “It would take too long to explain, given the current circumstances. Let me sum it up; Harmony is the magic within the land of Equestria itself. It touches all within it one way or another and has always been a part of our culture. It’s broken into six elements: Laughter, Kindness, Generosity, Honesty, Loyalty, and Magic.” Winter took a deep breath, measuring the liminal with what was becoming her normal, piercing stare.

“I see,” Rachnera observed. This was so confusing!

“By the way, my husband is not happy with you,” Winter reminded the Arachne.

“You don’t say?” Rachnera spread her hands helplessly, “He shouldn’t have come at me like that. It was a survival reflex. He’s lucky I didn’t bite him. My bite paralyzes.”

Winter’s eyes widened. “Bite?”

Peggy laughed without humor, “Ye don’t fook wit spiders. It’s bad luck tae do harm to one, it is!”

“Mother!”

“Wot? He’s got brains, but nae common sense. All that ‘nobility’ and he don’t want tae listen to us common folk. Fer years ‘is family jus’ sittin’ up on yon mountain, kissin’ the Princess’ perfect arse,” her voice trailed off as she grumbled into her ale.

Lucifer let out an impressed whistle, giving a nod to Rachnera.“So you don’t just look like a spider, but you can do almost anything a spider can.”

“~I spin a web any size~,” sang the liminal without thinking, “~binding housemates just like flies~.” Her eyes went wide as she clamped her hands over her mouth. Where did that come from? Rachnera began laughing behind her hands, all six eyes having become wide saucers.

“You’ve...you’ve never been touched by Harmony before, have you?” Winter queried, her brows raised. She had been staring at her mother.

Still covering her mouth, Rachnera stared wide-eyed at Winter. She shook her head.

“My first time was worse,” Lucifer commented, scratching the back of his head. “Went and did a whole song and dance about how I had found the perfect place to start a family. It was embarrassing.”

“My son, Random takes the belief of Harmony a bit too seriously,” Winter added with a smile.“He strongly believes all strangers are just friends he hasn’t met. He’s so into the teachings of the Princess. A devout little colt. He ends up doing questionable things. Drives my husband and I up the wall. Last night was a good example. No doubt he saw you and thought you needed a friend, so he decided to become yours.”

“You’re kidding,” Rachnera blinked, lowering her hands.

Peggy smiled at the mention of the colt’s name. “That boy is sunshine come tae life.”

“He’s naive,” Winter said with a sigh, “and devoutly so. I am grateful you did not harm him.”

The Arachne huffed and steepled her fingers on the table. “I would never hurt a child.”

“Spiders do no harm,” Peggy declared. “Poor Golden Tater and his wives.”

“Golden Tater?” Rachnera asked.

“He was the stallion that asked my husband about his filly,” Winter replied, her expression somber. “Flower Pot is the youngest foal in his herd.”

“Ah. I’m sorry if this is a silly question, but what do you farm around here? I only see trees and hills.”

“Rocks. There are also a few vineyards. Wine is the village’s major export,” Winter supplied helpfully.

The Arachne assumed a blank stare. Rocks? “When you say rocks, do you mean there’s a quarry nearby?”

“No, rock farming is a viable industry.” Winter tilted her head to one side.

This was all going over Rachnera’s head. Lucifer rolled his eyes, “Don’t bother asking. I had it explained to me several times and I still don’t get it.”

“Rock growin’ makes gems grow. Not hard tae know,” Peggy said in a matter-in-fact tone.

The minotaur waved a hand at her. “See what I mean?”

“Changelins ruin families,” Peggy said as she scratched at an itch on her barrel. “Golden Tater and his mares are good folk. Down to earth, they is. They didn’t deserve none of this. Others are gettin’ spooked, but they’re thinkin’ it’s the dogs. I’m tellin’ ye, it ain’t no dogs doin’ the stealin’ of the foals.” She glared at Winter.

“Mother, please,” the unicorn sighed and rolled her eyes. “Changelings don’t exist.”

“Prove it, missy. There’s a lot o’ magic and magic things forgotten or ignored.”

Winter shook her head.

“Miss Spider,” Peggy blinked owlishly as she shifted in her seat, “I’m tellin’ ye, changelins. Fae beasties. They’ve got blue eyes glowin’ like ice. Legs gnarled and twisted from the hunger. Horns like twisted daggers. Wings like a death shroud. They take what they steal and give it tae their queen. Us older ponies, we know. Our dams and sires, they heard from their dams and sires, and so on and so on. We know the land. We listen tae the earth. They been here, long before the battle, before the killin’, before the forest grew through the bones o’ the dead. They hide where ponies fear tae go. They watch, they wait, they take and replace us.”

“Mother, that’s enough. Why don’t you go and spend some time with Random?”

“Winter,” Peggy gave her daughter a piercing gaze, “keep the foals with Miss Spider. Changlins fear spiders. Spiders kin sense them.”

“Out of the question, Mother!”

“I’m not magical,” Rachnera shook her head. She had been mesmerized by the old mare’s ranting. “I’m also no babysitter. I want to go home and be as little trouble as possible to you ponies. I don’t want to cause any more trouble than I already have.” It was probably too late by this point, considering the glowering glares Sunrise Shimmer would on occasion throw her way as he spoke with his ponies.

The old mare shook her head, “Ye won’t be able tae go home until ye get them.” To her daughter she said, “the foals will be safe with Miss Spider."

“I said out of the question!” Winter growled with urgency. “You need to stop this talk about changelings. Fairy tales and myths do not belong in the here and now!”

Peggy recoiled from her daughter, hurt by her words. “I ‘member when me child was innocent-like, I do.”

“Lady Winter,” Lucifer began.

“No!” Winter snapped, stomping a hoof. “This hysteria is getting out of hoof! Those stories you told me as a filly, mother, to get me to behave, they don’t work. This is the real world! This is a real crisis! I went to Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns and I would have learned about such monsters during my studies! If there was anything that dangerous in Equestria, then Princess Celestia would have known and done something about it.”

The minotaur pointed at Rachnera. “What about her?”

“Celestia damn it, Lucifer, don’t you fucking start,” she grated in exasperation. He put up his hands in surrender, grimacing to hide his grand amusement. “I don’t need your smartass shit, you old fucking bull.”

“Mine yer tongue, filly!” Peggy snapped.

“Responsibility is a stressful thing, isn’t it?” Rachnera observed as she brushed a strand of hair from her eyes. “I wouldn’t want to impose and I would not know what to do with...foals. I also don’t think Mr. Shimmer,” —she gave a flippant wave to the lord of the land—”would approve.”

“Mares decide,” Peggy harrumphed, then pulled on her tankard, She smacked her lips and set her drink down with authority. “Ye be unlearnt of our ways, Miss Spider. Mares are decidin’ in matters concernin’ foals. We girls have the final say.” She gave the stinkeye to a certain stallion in the depths of an inebriated discussion with his fellow stallions. “Even if we got some Canterlot noble marryin’ me one ‘n only daughter, who was s’pposed tae be schoolin’, comin’ to reclaim ‘is family home an’ bring us back into Equestria’s ever-lovin’ bosom, us marefolk have the final say.” Her expression dared Winter to argue, while taking a deep swig of her drink.

Winter sighed. She then seemed to remember something of grave importance, giving her mother a sudden, wild stare, “Mother, if you’re here, where is Random?”

The old mare waved her off. “The colt’s fine, me disr’spectful child. I let him out o’ his room so he could play with his friends.”

Grinding her teeth, the unicorn grated, “He’s supposed to be grounded, Mother!” An eye was twitching madly.

“Fer what? Makin’ a friend?” Peggy said as she scratched an ear with a hoof. “Makin’ friends with Miss Spider is a boon!” She gave Winter a pointed look. “A boon! He ain’t grounded no way no how! Winter, I taught you better than that! T’ain’t right tae ground a colt for makin’ friends with a spider. Nope, nossir, not under my roof, missy!”

“Mother, Random used an illegal and immoral spell on Miss Arachne!” Winter protested, her voice raising several octaves.

“Indoor voice!” Peggy snapped. Her scowling daughter managed to look sheepish under her mother’s glowering eyes. While maintaining her visual hold on her daughter, she waved a hoof at Rachnera, who in turn had both hands covering her mouth to keep her laughter from bursting over the table. This was too precious to interrupt, but the mention of ‘illegal and immoral spell’ cooled her humorous urges. “Me grandson’s been miserly!”

Winter sighed, “Miserable.”

“Tha’s what I j’us said!”

Rachnera kept her opinion to herself, instead turning to Lucifer, who had been looking at the two mares with a mix of amusement and concern. He seemed to notice her and met her eyes with his. He shrugged and leaned heavily on his elbows towards the Arachne.

“They’ve always been like this,” he supplied helpfully. Lucifer shifted his attention to Peggy, “Old mare, where is Random now?”

She pointed her chin towards the other side of the common room, “Herded o’er with the other foals. Tole him tae stay with ‘em. Too dangerous to sep’rate. ‘Sides,” she huffed, arching a brow at her Winter, “our home is yonder from the town and ye wanted him tae remain grounded an’ unprotected. Ain’t none of yer guards there. They’re all here or muckin’ about, chasin’ what ain’t gonna be found ‘cause it don’t wanna be found.”

“Momma?” came a voice familiar to Rachnera. Then, in a more excited tone, greeted, “Hiya, Miss Arachnera! Are you and Momma friends now?”

Both addressed adults turned and saw Random Shimmer peering up at them with a very large smile. Behind him was a small herd of foals gawking up at the Arachne. There were quite a few milling around, their little hooves thumping against the wooden floor. There was an air of excitement around them, with a bit of worry and fear. Awed chatter danced between them. A hoof pressed against Random’s rump and pushed him forward.

He gave a scowl over his shoulder, “I’ll ask, I’ll ask!” Random cleared his throat and looked up at Rachnera. “Will you play with us?” The hope of a thousand nations seemed to sparkle in his eyes. A sea of nodding heads were the faces of those nations. Large eyes with dewey, hopeful expressions gave weight to his words. Ears were perked forward and little foal tails wagged.

“Random,” Winter rolled her eyes and settled them on her mother. They flicked back to her adoring son transfixed on the spider. “Did your grandmother bring you here?”

“Uh-huh!” he nodded, “Hi grandma!”

The old unicorn mare smiled toothily. “Hello, dearie! Are you behaving?”

“Yes ma’am!”

A single nod came from Peggy as she said, “Good. Have fun with Miss Spider.” She went back to her drink, throwing a wink at Rachnera.

The foals took the old unicorn’s words as permission to swarm over Rachnera, whose expression went from bemused to mild panic. And swarm they did. Three colts were chasing each other, weaving through the Arachne’s spider legs. A filly found one of the pedipalps and was clinging to it while it shook in a half-hearted attempt to dislodge her. Another pair of fillies had claimed the top of the second abdomen and were examining the massive white skull marking with curious pokes with their hooves. The rest just sat on the floor and stared in wonder. Little voices peppered the liminal with dozens of questions all at once.

Winter was making strangled sounds, her eyes bulging at the sight. Lucifer chuckled and waved a hand in the air at his wife. He was mouthing something Rachnera could not hear over the shrieks of delight coming from the little adorable monsters making an easy conquest of her. She made no sudden movements, feeling the eyes of the common room upon her. A small, furry body lept into her harms. She caught it and found Random wrapping her breasts in a hug.

“So soft!” he crooned in innocence. “Best pillows ever!”

Lucifer nearly fell over. “I’m going to help my wife,” he announced, a bit too loudly. The minotaur waded into the sea of ponies, towards the back of the inn.

Winter had gone beet red, her mouth opening, but words failing to form.

Peggy grunted into her tankard. She stared mournfully into its bottom and set it down. “Lu,” she yelled after the bull, “Got a drinkin’ problem!” The empty tankard was tipped towards him. “No drink.”

“Hello, Random,” Rachnera greeted the colt. He nuzzled her. She couldn’t help it. He was that adorable. “I’m going to assume you missed me.”

He nodded into her cheek. “Yep! I’m sorry I used a bad magic spell on you.” Random pulled back, wearing a sorrowful expression. “I only wanted to help.”

“Oh, you silly thing,” Rachnera cooed, scratching him between his ears. “You weren’t trying to hurt me. I forgive you. How could I be angry with a friend like you?” With her other arm, she adjust his body so his hooves weren’t digging into her breasts. Even with the fabric of her sweater, it was uncomfortable, bordering on painful, and there was a chance of bruising. Now, she was not adverse to a little bruising, but a line had to be drawn somewhere and there were certain questions she would rather not have to answer. Judging from some of the odd looks the adult ponies were giving, there was a good chance such queries were beginning to take root.

Lucifer was tossed something from his wife. He caught it deftly and held it up to his face, pointing it at Rachnera and the foals. There was a flash. “That’s going on the wall!”

Sunrise huffed over, an outraged expression on his muzzle. Behind him was a pair of guards.

“Unhoof those foals!” he demanded in a slurred voice.

“Can’t hold yer drink, can ye?” Peggy sneered. “Keep tryin’ tenderhoof!”

“Dearest Mother-in-Law,” Sunrise slurred, swaying on his hooves. His eyes were barely able to focus. “That...th-thing is a public m-menace.” It was clear he was as drunk as, well, a lord.

That didn’t take long, Rachnera observed in her thoughts. The Lord of Shimmering and all the lands around it was a lightweight when it came to the drink.

“Hi Daddy!” Random waved at him.

“Hello, son,” Sunrise greeted his colt with a smile. Then his thundercloud face returned, and with it a touch of curiosity. “F-furtherm-more,” he went on, concentrating, “Furthermore, I...I...sweet Celestia, are those mammaries real?” He thrust his neck forward, turning his head this way and that for a better look. “They do look like pillows, don’t they?”

Winter’s strangled sounds became a jealous growl. Her eyes were glowing red. “Really? In front of your son?” she seethed. Smoke was coming from her ears.

Literally, Rachnera mused with a giggle.

“But dear,” the drunk stallion cried, pointing with his chin, “Our son is right in the middle of all that pillowy softness! I told y-you she was a p-public menace!”

The whole of the inn went silent, save for the sounds of foals unaware of a stallion’s impending doom. Drinks were refilled. Wagers were made. Foals still played with their new spider friend. Lucifer grinned and held up his camera again, aiming it at Rachnera. Random snuggled into her neck and shoulder. Bria was facepalming with one hand and balancing a tray of cups filled with drinks.

Rachnera Arachnera—with carefully hidden and gleeful anticipation—wanted to see a show.

There was a camera flash. “That’s going on the wall, too!” Lucifer announced, his muzzle split by a wide grin.

Suddenly, a voice at the front of the inn cried out breathlessly, “Fire! The Lord’s manor is on fire!”

Sunrise and Winter whirled to face the direction the words came from, their ears perked and eyes round with disbelief.

Rachnera was irritated at the interruption.

“Welp,” Peggy snorted, “that puffed up quick-like.” She blinked, letting the words sink in. “Me house is on fire!” the old mare screeched, scrambling from her seat. “Me house! Me loverly house!”

8. Who are the Usual Suspects?

Author's Note

This chapter was a little bit of a challenge. It's a little dark, but I still wanted the humor to be the same as it's been in the past chapters. This is a turning point in our story, and we're going to transition into something a bit more serious (but no so much as to take away from the funny).

Pay attention to what is going on in this chapter! Let's see if you can tell what's going on! :twilightsmile:

The song, I feel, sums up Rachnera's frame of mind by the end of the chapter.

Enjoy!

8. Who are the Usual Suspects?

Edited byTuxOKC.

The foals stayed near Rachnera. Around the arachne were parents who weren’t exactly confident of her intentions. The old unicorn mare Peggy, however, held a great deal of influence and was not only respected, but trusted with the utmost of faith. She had to step with care so as not to hurt the little ponies. As an apex predator as dangerous as nature could create, self-restraint was paramount, especially around children. Rachnera didn’t want to hurt them: they were too adorable and innocent to even think of such a thing! Most of them rode on her skull marking, thinking it was all great fun. In all, there were eleven foals; three colts and the rest were fillies. Random was happy to get a spider ride, joining his friends on top of Rachnera’s second abdomen.

The herd moved from the inn and through the town and up a hill towards a towering inferno of flame licking the new night sky. A road zig zagged up the steep slope and in some places there were stone steps. The remnants of the day had already faded to a purple haze to the west (the transition from day to night was ridiculously fast). The night promised stars to dazzle through the darkness in the most spectacular of ways. The few unicorns the village had lit the tips of their horns with balls of soft light to show the way.

Rachnera found herself in the very center. It made sense and was amusing to be the center of attention, even if Peggy had deemed the liminal to be perfectly safe. The ponies, for the most part, believed her. Mothers hovered close, not speaking to the arachne, but neither ignoring her. Polite nods and smiles were exchanged, but it did little to assuage the nervous energy. Most of the attention was split between the foals and towards the billowing smoke and flames licking the sky.

There were rows of grapevines coming into view. They were lush and well tended. Her eyesight allowed her good vision at night, but the day revealed the colors the night concealed. Flickers of shadows above made her look and make out the shadowy forms of pegasi heading for the house. The group moved at a swift trot, Rachnera easily keeping up with her eight legs striding forward, with two always touching the earth as she moved. As a result, the ride the foals were experiencing was smooth.

Seeing the flames and the smoke was sobering. Fearful voices spurred the ponies onward. There were shouts ahead, with cries for water to be brought.

“Wow,” Random drew the word in wonder. His smile faded and he became morose. “That’s Grandma’s house. Momma and Daddy and me live there. It’s all on fire.” The colt’s lower lip trembled as Rachnera had turned to look at him as he spoke.

Her heart melted as she plucked him up from his friends and gave a him comforting hug. She didn’t know what spurred her to do such a thing. There was a need and she felt she had to fill it. The bawling child couldn’t turn to his parents nor his grandmother; they were already up at the house, helping others to fight the blaze.

Lucifer, who was now carrying a broad bladed spear, strode next to Rachnera. The shaft of the spear was as long as he was tall. He had it balanced on his right shoulder, elbow down. The arachne had pictured him carrying a broad axe, but the photos had him favoring what he now carried. His armor jingled as he stepped. Though Rachnera was a modern girl from a modern world, the look suited him. His crimson eyes were searching and his jaw was set firmly beneath his muzzle. The corners of his mouth had a slight downturn to them.

He muttered to himself, his long white beard swaying with each heavy step he took.

As they rounded a small outgrowth of trees, the source of the fire was seen. It was a two story stone house, its roof ablaze. Flickering tongues of flame were in the windows and thick, black smoke rose angrily into the starry night sky. Ponies milled around the front, running around like chickens with their heads cut off. There was a lot of crying and yelling as panic filled the air.

Winter and Sunrise were there, barking out orders and dealing with the stricken servants. They had dashed off (Sunrise had a very impressive stagger in his gallop) to the house, followed by ponies who weren’t too far into their alcohol to be incoherent.

“Stay here,” Lucifer ordered.

The heat of the flames could be felt and Rachnera shifted her legs to keep as much of the heat off the foals as possible.

The herd of ponies watched, most surging forward to help save Peggy’s house. The old mare sat and watched the inferno, her eyes shedding tears. Her daughter trotted over and without a word, gave the old mare a comforting hug.

“How?” wailed the old unicorn. “Me life was here! Me mem’ries! Why? Who done this?” Her cries were heart wrenching.

Even magic had its limits, Rachnera observed. Though there were unicorns, the fires were too great. The pegasi tried to create clouds and make it rain, but the intense heat vaporized the rain before it could cool the heart of the flames. Earth ponies formed bucket brigades, forming a line from a nearby well. Water went from the well and to the house in buckets and back, but to no avail. The minutes ticked by and the house was slowly consumed. It seemed to laugh at the combined efforts of the ponies.

There was something strange about the fire.

“Nopony was inside,” Winter said to her husband. Her horn had been glowing uninterrupted since Rachnera first arrived. “We are fortunate.”

He had joined his wife and mother in law. His expression was helpless and angry. “There’s nothing we can do for the house!” Sunrise called out to his ponies. “Focus on keeping the flames from spreading! Douse the other buildings!”

Voices chorused in the affirmative and ponies shifted their priorities.

Peggy wept bitterly. Her grandson looked to her and released his hug. Random hopped down from Rachnera’s patterned second abdomen and trotted over to the old mare. Nuzzling into a foreleg, he was soon swept up in an embrace.

Lucifer went over to Sunrise. “Diamond Dogs?” he wondered as the butt of his spear thumped heavily into the ground. His other hand tugged thoughtfully at his beard.

“I don’t know,” admitted the Lord as he stared through the waves of heat. “They’ve never been known to do this. I wonder if the loss of their pups made them.” He began muttering words under his breath, shaking his head.

Peggy looked over at him. “It t’weren’t the dogs. I tole ye it was the changlings. They’re stirrin’ and up to som’thin’ aweful, I tell ye, but ye don’t wanna listen.”

Sunrise was not in the mood. His mind was muddled, but the severity of the situation had sobered him enough. “Lucifer,” he began, regarding the massive bull, “can you find anything suspicious on the grounds? A paw print? Something? Anything?”

“I can look. There’s almost no light, so don’t expect a miracle.” Lucifer went off into the darkness, his eyes sweeping the ground. He had developed a determined glint in his hellish eyes.

The old mare’s lower lip trembled as she clung to her grandson, as if afraid he would be taken from her at any moment. Winter joined the pair. Gentle words came from the mare to her mother. Random was quiet, providing himself as something to hug and find comfort in.

The foals on Rachnera’s back had all hopped down and sat in front of her, starting at the burning house with mixed emotions written on their little faces. They shared the same sadness and soon sought their own mothers and fathers. This left the arachne alone, watching the death of a home.

She was angry. Random was an adorable little colt and in some ways took more after his grandmother than his parents, if she were to wager a guess. They were close, she noted, watching their body language. There was no doubt the colt loved his mother, but she suspected Winter did not spend as much time with her son as he would have liked. Her duties often took her from home, Rachnera surmised, and being a working mother could warp priorities. This left her to wonder how much a part of Random’s life his father involved himself in. The anger left her feeling helpless because she had no idea what to do. The logical thing to do was nothing. It was not of her affair and she doubted nosing into the family’s relationship would garner her any favors.

Her attention went to the ponies working to save the other buildings on the grounds. They worked as a team and seamlessly. Attention had shifted to dousing down the rooftops of nearby buildings: a barn, an outhouse, and a woodshed. There were other buildings further into the darkness and built into the hills surrounding the area, but it was too dark to make them out. Above, the orange glow caught the forms of pegasi darting through the air in odd formations. They were taking turns going around the smoke, streaking in corkscrews up, up, and up until their forms disappeared into the night. The next one would dart in and repeat the process. The column of smoke, Rachnera noted with curiosity, went straight up and within the flight paths of the pegasi. Then, slowly, the pattern tilted until the smoke was drifting away from causing any immediate danger to the surrounding area.

Sunrise Shimmer gathered up a few unicorns and had them use spells to deflect heat away from the buildings. Rachnera watched, arching a brow and crossing her arms under her breasts, as horns lit up and ice was hurled at the flames. It was impressive to watch. She pursed her lips as two unicorns stood next to each other and tried to keep a wall of ice up as quickly as the heat melted it. Sweat began to drench their coats, but they bore it with grim determination. The pair encouraged each other with colorful insults.

“Where are yer balls?”

“Want ‘em on yer chin?”

“Don’t ye threaten me with a good time, ye gobshite tallywhacker!”

“Why not? Yer already sweatin’ in me presence, ye little dick tickler!”

The two giggled like lunatics.

Rachnera smirked. That was an interesting way to encourage your partner to work harder.

An earth pony mare drew past the arachne. “It’s a shame, really,” she sighed, eyeing the pair with lustful eyes. “Bloody, bleedin’ shame.” The mare went towards the fire brigade, still trying to douse the fires with buckets of water. She was soon chipping in.

It was an odd passing, Rachnera thought. Something was off about that mare. She narrowed her eyes, but just saw an ordinary, plain pony shoulder to shoulder with the other villagers. Buckets were moved from mouth to mouth.

“Oi, you gonna just stand there or are you for helping?” Another villager, a pegasus mare (why so many mares?) addressed the pondering spider lady. She had pale blue fur and three tones of purple for her mane. Her tail was a single braid. Dark cyan eyes regarded the liminal with a neutral expression.

“What would you have me do?” Rachnera asked, tilting her head to one side.

The mare pointed with a wing. “Stay near the dams and the foals, if you please.”

Turning to where the tip of the wing pointed, Rachnera noted the mothers had pulled the foals further from the fire. “Are you sure you don’t want me to help with that?” she asked, flicking a hand at the fire.

“No. You’ll just be in the way, I’m sorry to say.” The mare looked apologetic. “Peggy says you’re for protecting the li'l ones. Around here, her word is law.” Pinning her ears back, she added, “You’re a frightful thing to behold, you are, but you seem nice.” A smile formed that did not quite reach her eyes. The way she was looking at the arachne was different but not unlike what some humans had given her in the past.

Rachnera smiled and decided to change the subject. She was curious about something. “What do you think about Peggy’s story about changelings?”

The mare shrugged. Her tail flicked a few times. “The magic around here is wild, Miss Spider,” she said. “Peggy is pretty smart, she is ‘n knows the magic of the land. Don’t let her country words fool you n’ don’t look down at us ponies. We’re proud ‘n got dignity.”

Rachnera smiled. “I wouldn’t dream of looking down upon you ponies,” she reassured the mare. “What’s your name?”

The pegasus bobbed her head once. “Emerald Sky.”

The arachne introduced herself and turned towards the mares and their foals. “Are you sure you don’t need help?”

“Peggy says you’re foalsitting, so foalsitting you’re stuck with’,” Emerald pointed again with a wing. She did not sound like the locals. There was an accent, but it was not as harsh.

Rachnera nodded, her attention shifting to the house. The ponies were slowly beginning to gain control, she noted. Words of encouragement were shouted. A wall collapsed inward, sending embers shooting into the sky. There was a massive flare of the fires before settling down into a blaze not as intense as before. The heat seemed less oppressive now.

“No rest for the wicked,” Emerald told Rachnera with a grin. Without another word, she leapt into the air and joined the other pegasi who seemed to be controlling the smoke.

Her legs rippled, carrying the liminal towards the foals and their mothers. Five mares—three earth ponies, a unicorn, and a pegasus—kept the little ones close. They were watchful, but their gazes often went sorrowfully towards the ruined house. As the arachne drew near, all eyes fell upon her. Nervous smiles were given and Rachnera felt obliged to offer one of her own and present herself as non-threatening.

“Miss Spider,” one of them greeted. The foals were all smiling, again gaping up at Rachnera in wonder.

Another one put in, “Peggy says ye kin be trusted. We r’spect spiders. I keep some in me flowers an ask ‘em tae let the bees be. Me bees help make mead,” she added helpfully as a foal squirmed in her forehooves.

The foals once again swarmed over the spider, as if their mothers had unleashed them through some unspoken command. Rachnera accepted this with a roll of her eyes and a gentle smile. The foals were having an effect on her heart and lately it had been melting with alarming frequency. A filly was cradled in her arms before she could finish her thought. It was the same one that had earlier claimed one of her pedipalps. She was a cute thing, about the size of a human toddler. All of them were about that size.

Fearful glances went from the foals to the spider monster entertaining them, but the mares forced smiles. The word of Peggy had a great deal of weight, it seemed.

“I won’t hurt them,” Rachnera promised, even as a colt glomped the top of her head. How did he get up there? “They seem to like me,” she added, batting his forehooves from her eyes. It would not do to have one of her six eyes poked.

“Yer hair is soft,” the colt mumbled, burying his muzzle into her lavender hair. “Smells nice, too.”

Thus started an avalanche of questions, as earlier in the inn, but not drowned out by the adult ponies.

“Why do ye have so many legs?”

“Why is only part of ye hard?”

“Were yer bum always black?”

“Why is yer top part so pale?”

“Are those yer teats?”

“Are they fluffy?”

“Can I touch them?”

“What’s between these funny legs up front?”

“Where does yer poop come out?”

“Can ye climb trees?”

Rachnera doubted some of the questions were all that innocent. She had her own suspicions, glancing over at the mares. Their bemused expressions had a bit of consternation mixed in. This confirmed the arachne’s thinking in regards to some of the foals. Not as innocent as she thought. Ah well, there would be some lessons to be learned. It was not difficult to see them as a flock of Papis (which immediately set the arachne to worry). Perhaps it would be wise to treat them as clones of her little harpy housemate, Papi.

For the next several minutes, she answered the questions she felt were relevant and proper. Inappropriate questions were deflected and even referred to the onlooking mares.

“I din think havin’ teats on yer chest is sensible,” one sniffed, flicking an ear. “Why ain’t they down between yer back legs? I reckon that would be more sensible.”

Rachnera stared at the mare for a moment before replying. “Having them up here,”—she put a hand on one and gave a light squeeze—”lets liminals and humans hold their babies while feeding them. It’s how nature designed us.” Her following smile was benign as she dislodged the colt from the top of her head.

“Have ye got little ones?” asked another curiously.

“No.” Rachnera watched as the firefighting ponies appeared to have the flames under control. A cursory glance towards Peggy and Winter revealed the old mare had her tears under control, but a deep sorrow was still on her muzzle. A sympathetic sigh escaped from the arachne’s lips.

A third mare said with admiration, “Yer a natural with ‘em.” She tittered behind a hoof.

“What’s not to like?” Rachnera offered with a wry smile.

There were more grimaces than smiles in response.

A sudden thought occurred to Rachnera. What if—and this was a very wild assumption—these mares were more put off by her top half than her lower half? What if the monster they saw had pale flesh uncovered by fur while the spider legs and the second abdomen below her hips seemed normal to them? What if it was boob envy?

Naaaaah...maybe? Was she overthinking this? Perhaps, she thought to herself. Two fillies had each claimed a pedipalp and were being gently bounced. It would do no good to make assumptions, but it would be wise to pay attention to the ponies and see if they reacted to something specific of the liminal.

Beneath her, there were faint rumblings. It was a familiar sound and one that had her stop bouncing the fillies much to their disappointment. She looked up and around, seeing if the ponies were noticing this. They weren’t, as they were preoccupied with fighting the fire. Scooping up the foals one by one, she swept them to her back. There was excitement as they thought there was going to be a grand adventure. Rachnera headed for Peggy and Winter, bending towards them at her hips.

“I’m feeling vibrations under the ground,” she said.

“What are you talking about?” Winter demanded. “I don’t have time for this!” Peggy gave the Arachne a forlorn look. Random was not crying, but was sniffling. He and his grandmother were leaning against each other.

Rachnera said with great patience, “I think the dogs are beneath us.” She was stabbing towards the ground with a finger. “I’m feeling the same kind of vibrations I felt before.”

Winter looked down, closed her eyes, and uttered a silent curse. “Are you sure?” she asked, looking at Rachnera.

“T’aint the dogs that did this,” Peggy said, craning her neck to look over her shoulder.

“Mother, stop it with this nonsense of changelings!” Winter seethed. She lifted her head. “Sunrise! We’ve got dogs.”

“I heard,” he replied. “Sober me up, dear.”

Her horn glowed. His head was surrounded by her aura and after a few seconds, faded. Sunrise shook his head and blinked his eyes. His ears swiveled and perked forward. “Thank you, love,” he said to Winter. She gave a brief smile.

“What did you do?” Rachnera asked, curious.

“I removed the alcohol from his blood stream. A simple thing, really, if you know what you’re doing. Now, Diamond Dogs? Where?”

Rachnera planted the tips of her eight legs firmly in the ground. Closing her eyes, she listened through touch. Sunrise was about to say something, but she held up a finger. He sputtered, but said nothing. “One. Two. Three over there. Two or three over there.” She was pointing as she spoke. “Can they sense what’s above them?”

“Yes. It’s how they ambush.”

“They’re about to ambush your ponies at the well, I think. Anywhere a pony is, for that matter.” Rachnera opened her eyes, a frown splaying over her lovely features. The earth was moving beneath her. The dogs were digging much faster than the three who had popped up in her cell earlier. Maybe this was the plan if the three had failed? It would make sense and was a clever ploy to set the fire, if it was their idea. Still, setting fires was risky, unless the risks and consequences were acceptable.

“Mother, Random, stay with Miss Spider.” Winter was sweeping her gaze over the ponies, the burning house, then settled on her husband. “Are the dogs still moving?”

They were all calling her Miss Spider. From the bull to the other ponies, Rachnera had caught on to this. She didn’t object as they were trying to show her some respect, it seemed. Sunrise, on the other hand, did not trust the arachne.

Rachnera paused for a moment. She frowned. “No. They’ve stopped.”

“Shit!” Winter raised her voice, “Ponies! Move! Diamond dogs are under you! It’s an ambush!”

Villagers stared at her, some with buckets in their mouths. The fire still blazed, but was nowhere near as intense as it was before.

“Bloody move yer arses!” Peggy roared with an energy that surprised Rachnera. “The dogs be comin’ and ye need tae be runnin’!”

There was confusion. Here and there, beneath pony hooves, the earth heaved. Frightened ponies ran. Paws shot up, grasping and groping, followed by yellowed eyes and snarling fangs. In return, hooves kicked. Screams filled the air. The ground beneath Rachnera gave way and the foals shrieked in fear. She sidestepped, staring down as glowing eyes in the darkness met hers. A smile graced her lips, curling upwards as she showed her teeth to her would-be ambusher. With foals clinging to her torsos, she raised a leg and stabbed it down at the dog. Its eyes widened and the dog ducked out of the way. There was not a lot of room to move in a tunnel and Rachnera began whacking her victim with the side of her leg against a furry skull. Yelps and yips could be heard below until the dog retreated. Pulling her leg back up, she shot a blob of silk into the hole, It exploded against the wall and filled it with her sticky thread.

Scooping Random up, she placed him with the other foals. They huddled together, staying in the middle of the skull marking as much as possible. “All right, where to, Winter?” she asked the unicorn.

Winter was staring at the hole. Specifically, the silk now covering it. “Back to the inn,” came the reply. “The floor is warded against digging.”

She began moving down the hill and back to the village. Rachnera soon followed, along with the mares.

“All right, children,” Rachnera told the foals with a smile, “hold on. It might get a little bumpy.” She had to admit, having eleven foals riding her was a bit cumbersome. Though she was trim and looked fit (mostly from constant web spinning), the arachne was not in peak condition. Coming from a long family line of webspinners, there had never been a need to go long distances. As a result, her stamina was lacking when compared to Cerea or Mero. Then again, spiders like her weren’t designed with stamina in mind.

“Ladies, stay with Miss Spider,” Winter told the mares. “Let her carry the foals. She can protect them.” The guards were trying to stay near the villagers, who were herding by instinct.

“My mother used to carry me like this, along with my sisters,” Rachnera assured them. Random claimed the top of her head as his own. Plucking him off, she put him back with the others.. “Don’t do that, dearie.” She seemed calm and collected, a pillar of support in a chaotic storm.

Nothing could be further from the truth. Although not frightened of the dogs, the responsibility heaped upon her was utterly terrifying. She was in an unenviable position and had to make do. How the situation had devolved to this level was irritating. Again, Rachnera had surrendered control and the result was about as unexpected and strange as could be believed.

She pondered this with foals sitting on the back of her second abdomen, mothers following close behind, and Winter leading the way. There was the sound of an angry bull doing angry things to bad dogs. The sound of battle—medieval and surreal—was erupting in their wake. Her heart pounded in her chest and her breathing had become heavy. Little hooves gripped at her waist, the little voices owning them crying out in fear. Chancing a glance over her shoulder, she found little eyes squeezed shut with tears falling.

Save one.

Random was looking up at her, his blue eyes boring into hers. There was trust. Unfettered and without doubt, it was there! He wore a fearless smile, or was very good at hiding his fright. It earned him a smirk from the arachne and a wink.

But, where was Peggy? Where was Sunrise? They were left behind, but with them was Lucifer and his rage. Rachnera was not worried for them, but the others, the villagers who ran…

…were faster than a spider and thundered past her and those with her. Guards were all around them in a moment, slowing to encircle the foals and their rather unusual chariot.

“Miss Spider, can’t you go faster?” called out one of the guards.

“Not really,” she gasped, shrugging and spreading her hands. Sweat was forming in beads on her forehead. There was an uncomfortable and unwanted pain in her lungs. This was the power of exercise? This is what the others endured at the gym while she sunbathed at the pool? It was then Rachnera decided her housemates were masochists and needed further punishment.

She felt silly for thinking that. It wasn’t her fault the others carried extra weight they needed to shed. Her abs were perfect and her curves were as she wanted them and Honey had a fetish for her legs. One could not improve upon perfection!

Skittering off the hill, she was now on one of the main streets of the village, her steps faltering from the unwanted fatigue. The foals were crying for their mothers, except for Random. He was perched on her shoulder like an oversized cat, his muzzle under her chin. Mindful of his horn, he kept it turned away from her eyes.

“Take the foals!” Rachnera rasped, “They’re weighing me down!” She plucked one from her back and held it out towards the closest mare.

One by one she handed them off. Random stayed. She tried prying him off her shoulder, but the colt stubbornly refused to let go.

“You’re my friend!” he said in her ear, on the verge of tears, “and friends don’t abandon friends! Don’t make me go away! Please? Pretty please?” Random was losing his grip. The perch on the arachne’s shoulder had been precarious to begin with. Tilting forward, his grip adjusted and his face was in hers.

“Random, I can’t see!”

“Oops!” He slipped and fell forward, into her sweater and in the valley between her breasts. Now she had a stubby tail flicking her nose and hooves batting her in the chin and mouth.

“Hey!” Rachnera nearly careened into the fountain. Gritting her teeth, she slowed and regained her footing. Beneath her the ground rumbled. “No,” she hissed.

It erupted beneath her, a pair of paws shot up from the crumbling hole. They had claws on them and they were hooked and wicked looking. Rachnera reared back, her pedipalps kicking at them even as she fought to maintain balance. Flicking her wrists, silk flew from her fingertips and she yanked up hard once she felt them stick. The snarling owner of the paws found them now bound together as it was bodily hauled from its hole. A wolfish head with the expression of surprise met the annoyed countenance of a now irate arachne. He seemed vaguely familiar.

“You guys are starting to really annoy me!” Rachnera snarled. Silk was everywhere. Ponies were scrambling to get away from her. Random kept trying to perk his head up into her field of view. Which annoyed her more? “Stay down, Random!” Shoving his head down with her free hand, she used two legs to kick the Diamond Dog away. “This is getting ridiculous!”

Then there were dogs everywhere. Ponies were panicking. Guards tried to put themselves between the dogs and their charges. Sunrise was running in circles, his horn glowing, and doing what looked to be a whole lot of nothing. Lucifer had a lot of attention from the dogs as they tried to keep him from the ponies. One was on his back, clinging for dear life and wearing the face of someone who was regretting recent life choices. Despite the odds, the minotaur was wearing a horrifying grin and seemed to be enjoying himself. Good for him.

Still, this was a mess of stupidity. It was a flying circus of silliness. If this was a television show, Rachnera was sure she would have found it humorous.

The dog she had thrown was up. Another one looking just like him was tearing the silk off his forearms. It was the same two she had seen last night. So far as she was concerned, they were the ones leading this attack.

“Random, stay down,” she ordered, advancing on the dogs. They seemed to be arguing with each other. The top half of the colt’s head was above the cut of her sweater. The rest of him was nestled comfortably underneath. His fur was tickling her skin.

They never saw her coming, or were too involved in their argument to notice. Her eyes glowed red. She was tired. She was sweaty. Rachnera was sick and tired of neither side talking. There was also a colt camping in between her tits, but that was not important right now.

“Oh, boys?” she sang, revealing her fangs. “We need to have a cozy little chat.”

In a blur, she had them bound together, back-to-back. Sunrise trotted up to her, not believing what he was seeing. “By Celestia, you’ve done it!” he crowed.

She turned to him sharply. “You too!” Rachnera growled.

In moments, the two dogs were facing an equally bound unicorn stallion.

“Peace talks. Now.”

The fighting, miraculously, stopped. Dogs and ponies stared, their round eyes locked on Rachnera Arachnera. “Okay,” one of the bound wolfish dogs said with a shrug.

Peggy sat next to the arachne, taking a moment to catch her breath. She was grave in her mannerisms and stoic with her glowering gaze. “Told ye spiders were good luck!” she announced in a loud, weedy voice. “Now, which of yer arseholes burnt down me house?”

Rachnera stared at her with a raised eyebrow.

9. This is a Changeling?

Author's Note

Chapter 9 is divine!

Oh, have some Billy Joel.

It's relevant to the chapter.

I promise.

9. This is a Changeling?

Edited byTuxOKC.

Once Rachnera had captured the two Diamond Dog leaders, something of a cease fire happened. Some of the dogs offered to help put out the fire still burning. This was agreed upon (over distrusting glares through more than a few black eyes and various bumps and bruises between both sides) and for the rest of the night, the blaze was battered to nothing more than smoke and embers. In the meantime, the sun soon rose far too quickly, in Rachnera’s estimation (The physics involved were impossible and no ball of continuously exploding hydrogen should take less than a minute to push above the horizon).

The town hall had a new pair of large doors, being the replacements for the ones Lucifer had destroyed the night before. It was filled with ponies and dogs, split into their respective groups: ponies on Rachnera’s right and dogs to the left side of the hall. There was shouting between the two parties as accusations flew across the room. Hooves and claws jabbed as angry words were exchanged. Above, in the rafters, pegasi sat, wings fluffed and chests puffed as they made odd little displays at the Diamond Dogs. The emotions were real, but there was something keeping them from coming to blows right there in that building.

There was webbing set up in a way to keep them apart, though it was just an afterthought laid out by the one who had set it out. Rachnera Arachnera was not in a good mood. She was tired, worn out, cranky, and had shed hair itching the skin between her breasts. Commanding the center of the room, a table had been set, courtesy of Lucifer. At the table were Sunrise (still bound) and Winter (not bound) and the apparent leaders of the Diamond Dogs (bound together). All eyes were on her, or more specifically, her glowing red eyes and sinister smile.

“All right, I said it before,” she began, flicking her gaze between the leaders, “this is going to be a peace talk. We”—she swung a finger between herself and the representatives—”are going to figure this out so I can get a ticket to horse capital and meet Princess Leia and find out how I can get home.” No one tried to correct her, given the horrifying fangs she showed with her open grin.

Lucifer had commandeered a small table for himself and watched the ‘peace talks’ unfold with wry bemusement. Bria was busy helping to tend to the various cuts and bruises that had happened from the fracas. Her husband sported a black eye, a fat lip, and a satisfied grin. A glass of wine was in one of his massive hands and he sipped it like a connoisseur. A bottle awaited him on the table before him. Every time he looked over towards the Diamond Dogs, they flinched and made a little less ruckus.

Somebody had fun last night.

The foals were with their mothers, who were in turn against the wall and as far from the Diamond Dogs as possible. The guards formed a front and were just as willing to trade insults as their civilian friends did with the dogs. With the foals in the same room, ears seemed more perked and alert. Eyes were constantly roving, as if one of the dogs would try to make a go for them. Random was with his grandmother, who had chosen not to sit at the table, having claimed emotional distress. It was interesting to see the glares she was throwing at the dogs. Hadn’t she been claiming changelings as being responsible?

Bright...Luster was it? had a troubled look. The unicorn paced between the guards and her Lord and Lady, glancing at Rachnera with fear. Where was the nice monster that had been polite and accommodating? She had been civilized. Bright was very concerned, but never approached Rachnera directly, preferring to defer to Winter.

Now there was this savage-looking beast, pissed off and tired of the idiocy going on between the pony village and the dog colony. The farmers seemed unruffled by this, convinced through Peggy’s assurances Rachnera was a friend. Some were even pleased to see Lord Shimmer trussed up in ‘silk pajamas’. There was sympathy for Winter Shimmer, of course, as she was seen as the future for Shimmering.

“Give ‘em what-fer, Miss Spider!” one of the villagers yelled out. There was an awkward pause from the speaker. “Or somethin’ like that!”

“Well?” Rachnera pressed, ignoring the speaker. Her eyes bore into the two Diamond Dogs. “Let’s start with easy questions and go from there. For starters, what’s your names?” She leaned on the table and gave them a Cheshire smile.

The wolfish pair shared a nervous look. They spoke at the same time.

“I Fargo.”

“I Fungo.”

Both said in one voice, “We twins.”

“You don’t say?” Rachnera smirked. “A good start. Maybe you two aren’t as dumb as you sound.”

Fungo, the one on the right, gave her a little growl. “Not dumb. Some pony words hard to say. Diamond Dog mind think different. Mind make mouth speak different.”

“Of course, my apologies,” she said, plucking at her pendant. “Now, the ponies were good enough to release the three friends of yours who had the misfortune of digging into my quarters.” Rachnera gave a slight tilt of her head towards Winter. “They were looking for your missing pups?” An eyebrow quirked. She waved at the dogs in question. They were far back against the wall behind their packmates and waved nervously back at the arachne.

“Yes! Three pups. One dog, two bitches. Very young. Weaned. Mothers want them back. Alpha wants them back. We get them back,” Fargo growled, “or we no good protectors. Ponies take them. Bitches see ponies take pups. We follow. Pup scents all over village. We no get in. We no find. Smells confusing. One moment there, then gone.”

“We’re missing foals!” Sunrise snapped, struggling in his silken prison. “This is unacceptable, monster! Undo these bonds!”

“No. Not until you and the doggies make nice,” Rachnera told him. “I told you already. I’ll keep telling you. Why can’t the two of you combine your resources to find your missing children instead of quarreling like children.”

There was a general murmur of agreement from both sides of the room. “Why are the ponies leaders no wanting for talk?” cried out a dog.

“I’m wantin’ my daughter, not a flamin’ war!” a familiar sad-faced stallion yelled over his fellow ponies.

The agreements were getting louder. Sunrise gave his fellow ponies a look of indignant shock. “There are bandits in the ruins of the forest!” he insisted in a nasal, whiny voice. “I assure you, my dear ponies, I will root them out and return to you your dear foals! I swear this to you on my family name!”

“Do you have proof?” Rachnera asked, resting her chin on a palm as she rested an elbow on the table. “Hearing about it is one thing. Keeping vital information a secret? That might be criminal, wouldn’t you agree? Now,” she held up a hand to stave off a protest from Winter, “I haven’t been around long enough to know what’s really going on, but from what I’ve heard, this whole ‘bandits did it’ thing isn’t holding water. Why, might you ask? Bandits normally take valuables. They steal. They destroy. They want you to know they’re there so they can control you through fear and intimidation. Since I haven’t heard anyone else even make a mention of these vagabonds, either these are some of the worst thieves and murderers that ever existed, or the truth is being withheld for one reason or another.” A wry smile curled one corner of her mouth. “How close am I?”

Her six eyes bore into Sunrise’s two. “My concerns are for the safety of my subjects!” he protested. “You know nothing of me. You know nothing of my methods, monster. How my mother-in-law sees you as an asset is beyond reason! I am bound, humiliated before my subjects and they are laughing at me!”

“It is funny, milord!” came a voice over the pony side of the room.

Winter, in a subtle whisper said, “He’s not wrong.” There was a twinkle in her eye, which left Rachnera to wonder if she was bipolar. The mood swings of the mare were jarring.

“And you two,” she pointed a lethal fingertip at Fungo and Fargo. “What’s your excuse for terrorizing innocents? Have the ponies attacked you?”

There was a moment of agonizing silence as the two brothers stared at her with guilty eyes. “No,” they admitted.

“Alpha Father told us to seek pups and get back,” Fargo grunted, his nostrils sniffing at the air.

Fungo nodded, “Pups most important. They future of colony. Diamond Dogs get pups back at any cost.”

“To the point of starting a war?” Rachnera queried, sounding both bored and annoyed. “What about Peggy’s house?”

“I didn’t see any dog prints,” Lucifer offered in a loud voice.

The pair sang, “~We didn’t start the fire!~”

To Rachnera’s horror (and fascination), both sides broke into a song. It was a parody and for the next four minutes, there was a back and forth between the two groups. The ponies got the first and third verses, the dogs the second and fourth. Everyone in the room (including the baffled and bewildered arachne) sang the chorus. Rachnera sang the fifth verse all by herself and could not stop! It ended with her throwing up jazz hands, with foals draped all over her (Random was perched on her head for half the song, singing his little heart out), and the adults encircling the arachne (apparently Diamond Dogs can do jazz...paws, too, along with the up-to-the-challenge ponies with their jazz...hooves). Then, everyone went back to where they had been before, as if the attack of Harmony had never happened.

The mood in the aftermath (or was that afterglow?) was better, at least.

Rachnera reflected on what just happened, muttering under her breath, “The horror!” Yet, there was a conflicted side of her that found the experience...enjoyable. “The horror!”

Fargo and Fungo whispered to each other, their ears perked as their discussion included them nipping at each other as they began to argue. Finally, they glared at each other before turning their attention to Rachnera.

“We help find bandits,” they offered in the form of a demand.

“Absolutely not!” Sunrise roared, struggling against his silken bonds.

“Why not?” Rachnera asked. She indicated them with a gesture, “It would foster goodwill between you and the doggies, promote friendship, and would be a good start towards rebuilding relations with them. Right, boys?” A smile was thrown towards the brothers.

They nodded and smiled back, hopeful. Their fellow Diamond Dogs yipped in agreement. “We want our pups! We want our pups!” they chanted.

“We don’t have them, you stupid dogs! We’ve never had your puppies!” Sunrise cried in frustration.

Rachnera could hear Winter say, “Dear, your blood pressure.” From the tone and expression, the unicorn was getting tired of her husband’s attitude. “Maybe you should let me handle things from now on? You’ve not exactly been wowing the very ponies who look to you for protection.” She turned his chin with a hoof until they were looking directly into each other’s eyes. “I insist.”

He tried to outstare his wife, but faltered within a few moments and sighed. “Fine. You win.”

“Oh good, I adore winning!” Winter pecked him on the lips, then straightened herself. “Now, about these bandits. I’m afraid I’m with Miss Spider on this, dear husband. You mentioned early last evening to everypony about them. How did you get your information?”

Rachnera half expected Peggy to blurt the word ‘changelings’, followed by a mouthful of twangy country drawl that was more poured than spoken, and only understood by the locals. But the spark in the old mare’s eyes had gone out since her home had burned down. Was it a coincidence? Did a changeling burn down the old unicorn’s house because she was spouting on about them?

The arachne was not certain. What had been going on had been utter chaos. She needed sleep, but that was going to have to wait, which in turn made for irritation and a waspish nature. Rachnera Arachnera was falling deeper and deeper into a foul mood and only sleep and laziness could cure it. As it was, Peggy was delightful in personality and had welcomed the spider monster with open arms...er, hooves. Now her house was gone and so went that spirit.

There was another thing she was noticing and it would have nothing to do with her directly; the ponies and the dogs were starting to communicate. From what she could tell, there was no real animosity between the regular, day-to-day denizens trying to work for a living. Sunrise Shimmer, lord of the land and noted outsider, seemed to be the sort determined to leave a mark, even if it meant potential disaster. Maybe he was trying to impress his peasants? Like Agent Smith, he was being irresponsible.

Something was off. Rachnera could not quite put a finger on it, but there was an ominous air in the room. Unfriendly eyes were boring into her and she had yet to catch who it was. There was fear and a trembling she felt but could not sort out. Her threads were useless. There were too many hooves and paws touching what she had left lying around. It was something she did; leave silk everywhere. It had everything to do with being a spider. No thought went into the laying of silk: it was like the process of breathing.

Annoying. Very annoying.

If there was a drawback to her silk, it was the flood of information overwhelming her senses to the point where she had to ignore them by cutting them loose. This was done with a flick of her fingers, her sharp nails slicing through the threads. To anyone looking, it would have seemed as if she was just stretching her fingers.

She missed what what was being said through her musings, but no words spoken had caught her attention. Instead, she used her senses and scanned the crowd. There was animosity, but it was driven by what, rather who was not there. Instincts begged there was a who here interested in keeping things heated up between the dogs and the ponies.

So, with Winter effectively telling her husband to shut the hell up and let a local handle the peace talks, Rachnera focused on trying to see something unusual in a crowd of aliens with habits and mannerisms she was only barely aware of. Easy, right? Although lazy by nature, this new challenge engaged her mind and had her interest. Rachnera prided herself as an intellectual and enjoyed a mystery every once in a while. It was much better than hanging around in an apartment with some greedy human trying to make money through blackmail and scams.

So long as the results would get her home, Rachnera’s mind wandered towards some less than ethical roads that might open before her. No, no, and...maybe? Disappointing Honey was not something she wanted to do. Somehow, he would know if she had been a good or bad girl.

A small sigh escaped through her lips as her attention fell upon Peggy. The old mare was staring at the table, pupils flicking to and fro from her daughter and her husband and the two bound Diamond Dogs. Her expression seemed to indicate irritation. There was something off about her. Rachnera could not put a finger on it, but she could recall with clarity how Peggy changed her mind about who was responsible for the arson project upon her home.

“It can’t be that easy,” she whispered, fingering the pendant. One spider leg tapped at the floor. A racing mind went back to the moment. There had been so much chaos going on, Rachnera had lost sight of Peggy when the Diamond Dogs first showed up.

Her attention went to Random. He was still sitting next to the old mare. A sleepy look had fallen over him and he could barely stay awake. Bria came up behind him and without saying a word, scooped the colt up into her arms. She weaved through tables, chairs, and ponies to the group of foals. Blankets had been spread out and already a few had fallen asleep (or were trying to) surrounded by watchful mares. She set him down, gave a scratch behind an ear, and went back about the business of tending to boo-boos.

There was something wrong, but it could be chalked up to the old pony being senile. Rachnera was positive the old mare was positively ancient, though she had no idea how long ponies lived.

Lucifer rose from his seat and took long, thumping steps towards the door. He slid past Rachnera, giving her a quick grin. She could make out the scarred side of his face, faded and proudly worn. He swung his horned head, curling a lip at the dogs while clenching and unclenching his massive meathooks. Out the door he went. Bria paused in what she was doing and stared after him, her expression unreadable.

Lucifer was old, his age also unknown.He had also been acting strange, though to be honest, Rachnera had known the bull for less than two days. He was, in her opinion, the village’s Red Button for When Things Go Horribly Wrong. Not a bad red button to have, if Rachnera were to judge. She suspected he could exude fear as she no longer felt any from him. Watching him fight Diamond Dogs, they had become terrified after closing in on Lucifer. The black bull with his crimson eyes (a fan ficiton no-no, to be sure!) seemed to hold back and played with his victims, much as Rachnera enjoyed playing with her housemates. She could respect that.

But why was he leaving? Was he suddenly bored with the peace talks?

Rachnera shifted her focus on Fargo and Fungo as they bickered with Winter and Sunrise. Oh, well, that was a pretty good reason.

Lucifer opened one of the doors and suddenly jerked to one side. A gray and gold blur flew in along with a long, drawn-out, “Whoa!”

It was a wobbly blur and feathers were dropping off it and chasing after in its wake. Lucifer plucked something else out of the air and gave it a brief examination. It was a blue cap with a small black bill. Following the flying thing with his eyes, Lucifer wore a bemused expression.

Rachnera ducked as it cried, “Gang way!” covering her head with her arms. Ponies and dogs scrambled to get out of the way. Guards tried to intervene, but where brushed aside by brute clumsiness. Wings smacked them aside and pony bodies were airborne, crashing in all directions. Fungo and Fargo were not spared as a green coated militia earth pony rolled over them and they were helpless in their silken bonds.

It flew into Rachnera’s webbing, intended to keep the dogs and ponies separated. A cry of alarm went up from the pegasus, as the threads caught on her wings, legs, and body, slowing her down. She panicked as the webbing stuck to her fur and feathers. Squawking and whinnying in terror, she went wild and became even more dangerous to approach. It was now she could be seen wearing a pair of saddlebags strapped to her barrel and a sort of uniform beneath it. Well, once one could see through the flurry of feathers falling all about the room. The poor thing was now in full flight mode and was desperately trying to find an escape from the webbing. She had large golden eyes, made wider by fear. They seemed to look in two different directions as they rolled wildly in their sockets.

Rachnera watched with a mix of concern and fascination. She didn’t want to see the pegasus hurt herself, but at the same time, she was stretching the webbing to the breaking point, which should have been impossible given her supposed mass. Then again, the arachne gave thought to the possibility that if unicorns could do magic with their horns, then perhaps it was reasonable to assume some form of magic could be created through wings. After all, it was the only explanation that made sense given how small pegasus wings were compared to their bodies.

Ponies and Diamond Dogs were still trying to guess which way the panicking pegasus was going as they scrambled for questionable safety. Rachnera stayed put, in part because she felt there was nowhere to go without running someone over. The liminal also believed she could react quick enough to dodge if necessary. Rising on her legs, she bent all eight of them, ready to spring in any direction.

The webbing snapped, surprising Rachnera, and the pegasus shot forward like a bullet. She clipped a table and careening forward, tumbling end over end, straight for Peggy.

The old unicorn managed to cry out before impact. There was a resounding crash, a tangle of legs and wings, and a burst of strange green energy. Was that a magical discharge? Rachnera winced as the carnage unfolded before her, biting the tips of her nails.

Then there was green fire enshrouding both ponies, but there was no smell of smoke nor the sensation of heat. It burned away and there was a ball of gray fur entangled with something shiny and black, like Rachnera’s armored lower abdomen. There were holes through the legs, which was creepy even by the arachne’s standards. The shape was pony-like, but with a healthy dose of insect thrown in for nightmare fuel. It had a dorsal fin where the mane would be on top of the head and its ears appeared like flexible chitin. The eyes were monochromatic blue, yet it still seemed as though they were rolling in their sockets. Its short tail was stubby and made up of chitinous fibers. Gasping for air, the opened mouth revealed rows of sharp little teeth, with a pair of long, gleaming canines. A pair of wings like those of a dragonfly’s buzzed from its shoulders.

Lucifer was suddenly there, reaching down for the gray pegasus. His eyes widened and locked on the thing that had been Peggy. There were suddenly screams of fright as those still inside saw the creature and did what was only natural.

The farmers seemed to know what it was.

“Changeling!”

The word was repeated several times.

“Miss Spider?” Lucifer pointed at the dazed creature, “Would you mind while I sort this young mail carrier out?”

“Eh,” Rachnera replied, already moving, “I suppose.”

As she approached the ‘changeling’, its eyes stopped lolling about as it heard the sound of the tips of spider legs making dull clicks as they struck the wooden floor. A horrible, shrill hissing sound came from its throat as the creature scrambled to its hooves. Its wings buzzed, the eyes were wide as they were expressing several layers of horrified as Rachnera loomed ever closer and with terrifying speed.

“Where’s me mum?” Winter cried, having lost her more cultured accent. “What did ye do to me mum, ye horrid beastie?” She charged at the creature, her horn lit up as a snarl had formed on her lips.

“Honey?” Sunrise tried to mollify her, which was going to be difficult, considering he was still encased in silk. “Please don’t go backwater accent on me.” He was terrible at mollifying.

In less than ten seconds flat, there were two hissing and spitting creatures on the floor and trussed up like holiday turkeys, but in a suggestive manner. One of them was a unicorn. The other was possibly a changeling. Rachnera picked up the changeling (she would assume it was one until told otherwise) and held it out with both hands. She held the thing out in front of her and tilted her head to one side, levelling a flinty gaze into its eyes.

“You know what?” she mused, her head tilting to the other side. “I’d like to know where Peggy is. Also, I’m hungry. I’d like to know where the foals and the puppies are, too. Did I mention I was hungry?” A broad, sadistic smile was added for emphasis.

The ‘changeling’ fainted.

10. Was this Really Necessary?

Author's Note

I do apologize for how long it took to get this out.

I also apologize for the false posting. It was a false publication where I was trying to do an edit on my phone and failed miserably.

Once I got rolling on this chapter, it became a lot of fun to write. I hope you enjoy reading it.

10. Was this Really Necessary?

Edited byTuxOKC.

Rachnera Arachnera needed sleep. The past twenty four hours had been an understated chain of events allowing for no such luxury. She knew she was not the only one exhausted (though Lucifer looked none the worse for wear) as the Lord and Lady of Shimmering (What exactly were their lordly titles, anyways? Baron and Baroness? Duke and Dutchess?) looked like death warmed over. They sagged into each other at the table, speaking to each other in hushed tones. It was easy to see the love between them, though Rachnera was convinced Sunrise was a tool. Winter put up with her husband because she did love him.

The stallion’s grip on his belief bandits were responsible for the missing foals had crumbled away after seeing the changeling that had been disguised as his mother-in-law. The reveal had shattered several misconceptions he had. Had there been some sort of obsession? Rachnera thought the unicorn had been trying to prove something. She sleepily wondered why.

Everything was stupid. There was no rhyme or reason to what was going on. There was no strategic value of the village as it was up in the hills and far removed from proper civilization. Unless that was precisely the reason why the changelings had chosen this village and the Diamond Dog colony to pick on.

Predators normally sought prey they could hunt with minimal effort, so as one herself, it made a sort of sense.

The little gray pegasus was none the worse for wear after her harrowing ordeal with spider silk. Her name was Derpy Hooves and once she got over the entanglements with both Rachnera’s webbing and the Peggy-turned-changeling, the pegasus turned out to be quite an adorable little thing. It was her first day at her new job as a parcel and letter carrier (mailpony) as she explained through her asymmetrical golden eyes and honest (if confused) smile.

It was noted the former letter carrier, a cranky old pegasus with creaky wings had been close to retirement. Derpy was both proud and sad to say she was his replacement. Daddy was just getting too old to do his job and had gotten clumsy with age. Rachnera held her tongue as what she had witnessed in the village hall could have been heritage at work.

Lucifer and a few other ponies, including a pair of Diamond Dogs helped to pick up the letters that had been scattered everywhere. The minotaur brushed off Derpy’s cap and placed it back on her head.

A tentative peace had happened while the mailmare was collected and put back together. Sunrise Shimmer was visibly upset and shaken as the unconscious changeling was taken to the cell previously occupied by Rachnera. The guards were doubled and Winter assured she and Bright Luster would put proper wards up to keep the creature inside.

There had been an uproar, a moment of panic when Peggy was revealed to be a changeling. Needless to say, seeing one measly looking bug horse thing did not impress the Diamond Dogs. The older ponies who had years of listening to local tales and legends could not decide if they should be excited or go into full blown panic mode. After all, the mare they all looked up to was not the pony they thought she was. The question of when was asked and often amongst themselves. The Diamond Dogs were not only looking at the ponies with suspicion, but lingering doggie eyes feel upon their own and there was worry.

Both parties filed out of the hall (there was only so much silliness and drama they could stomach), leaving Fargo and Fungo (now unbound, thanks a couple of absent-minded swipes of Rachnera’s sharp fingertips) sitting at a table with Sunrise and Winter. They seemed to be getting serious about some sort of peace between the Diamond Dogs and the ponies. Bria was fussing over the mailmare, who appeared to be fine. There was a great deal of concern for Derpy’s eyes, but the pegasus shrugged it off with a smile. The minotaur cow was plucking bits of web from the pegasus’ mane. Lucifer stood at the door, arms crossed over his massive chest as he patted his beard. A contemplative look was etched on his bovine face as he stared out into the morning.

“I’ve got something here,” Derpy muttered, snout deep in the mailbag, muffling her voice. “Letters to deliver. Let’s see. Credit card application. The latest ‘Noble Nobles’ magazine. Bills...” She plucked out a mouthful of letters and placed them on the table in front of Sunrise Shimmer. “You’ve got a lot of bills, mister. Oh, this is from Canterlot. Royal seal, too! Must be important, I think.” She wore a cheerful smile.

“That’s not how you address a lord!” Sunrise sputtered in indignant rage. His bad evening had transitioned smoothly into an even worse morning.

Derpy ignored him, already rummaging through her bag again. “Letter from one Sunset Shimmer addressed to Winter Shimmer,” she said with an envelope in her mouth.

Winter smiled and plucked it away with her magic. “Thank you.”

Derpy returned the smile, flicking an ear as she went back to her bag. “I’d have them out sooner, but I kind of dumped everything with all that silly string you guys put up in here. Having some sort of party, or something?”

Rachnera smiled, “Something like that.”

The mare popped her head from the bag. “Who is Rachnera Arachnera?” Derpy asked.

The arachne held up a hand. “That would be me.”

“Letter for you!” An envelope was tossed at her.

The liminal accepted it with a confused expression, glanced at the writing, and smiled. “Thank you.” She turned to Winter, as trying to talk to Sunrise did not seem like it would be a productive endeavor. “Do you need me for anything else? If not, I’m going to bed. All of the excitement has worn me out.”

The unicorn looked up from her husband, an ear flicking. “What? Oh, no, not really. I think some rest would do us all a lot of good. When you get up, I’ll have either Bria or Lucifer tell you what’s going on. I’ve got a lot to think about and lots of questions for the prisoner.” Her eyes became flinty.

“‘kay,” the arachne mumbled and headed out. She nodded and gave a half hearted wave to the minotaur. “G’nite.”

“Rest well,” he replied with a grave nod.

Rachnera stumbled to the inn, asked (mumbled, rather) Bria (who had followed) where her room was, crawled up the stairs on clacking legs, down the hall, through the door, and went straight to the bed. There she tossed the letter on top of the covers. Without thinking (or looking at the bed), she made her own bed, a hammock, and removed her clothes. Crawling into it, she waited for darkness to overtake her.

...and waited…

...and waited…

“Fuck me sideways,” Rachnera groaned.

As she lay in her silk hammock, Rachnera found sleep to be an elusive prey. She admitted to being too tired for slumber. On the same note, she was also too exhausted to even move. So, she swayed in her spinneret-woven bed, staring blindly at the door and silently begging for the sweet embrace of sleep. There was a tug on one of her legs.

She looked down and saw Random looking up at her. He was sitting, his stubby little pony tail wagging on the floor. “Hi,” he whispered loudly. “I didn’t wake you, did I?”

“No,” Rachnera yawned. “I’m awake. What are you doing in my room? I’m naked.”

The colt shrugged. “I don’t wear clothes, either. Momma and Daddy are fighting and I don’t have anywhere else to go. I miss my grandma and I hope she’s okay. Can I sleep with you? I feel safest with you. Changelings won’t go near you. They’re afraid of spiders, like what Grandma always says in her stories.” His eyes rimmed with expectant tears.

“Fine,” the liminal relented, flicking a wrist. Silk whipped from her fingers and fell over the colt’s withers. She reeled Random up. He gave a surprised squeak and his legs flailed as he was pulled up into Rachnera’s grasp. Arms were wrapped around his barrel and he was snuggled into his favorite spot.

There was a letter the mailmare (heh!) had given the arachne. A letter had indeed been dispatched yesterday and official-looking correspondence had been sent to Lord Shimmer. A second one had been addressed to Rachnera, much to the confusion of the local lord. The problem was Rachnera could not read the local language, which made sense. She was only able to understand and speak the local language because of the pendant. Her eyes fell upon the letter, which was still in its envelope on the bed where she had tossed it.

“Random?” she asked, “how’s your reading skills?”

He shifted, blinking and fixing his eyes on her. “I can read,” the colt. “Why? Can’t you? Is it a learning disability? Is it because having six eyes makes it hard for you to see right? Do you see too good?”

She giggled and ruffled his mane. “No, silly, I can’t read your language.”

“Oh, okay.”

“Learning disability!” Rachnera huffed with a smile. “What a thing to say!”

“I didn’t mean it! Honest!”

Flicking a wrist (and without looking), Rachnera snagged the envelope on the bed with her webbing and jerked it up and into her grasp. Her nails made perfect letter openers and this one, though it was alien, opened like any others. Blowing it open, she plucked out the letter, finding the parchment to be thick and heavy. The lettering was precise and had been written organically, which meant no typewriters were harmed in the creation of this bit of correspondence. It was rare to see letters of an official capacity written by hand, or in this case, hoof. Though she could not read the writing, she could appreciate the beauty of the other-worldly calligraphy.

With another flick of the wrist and application of her silk, she flipped the light switch on (she was pleasantly surprised to see electrical lighting in the inn). Tickling one of the colt’s ears, she gave him a wry grin.

“I know you didn’t. Now,” she held the letter out for him to see, “what does it say?”

“Um,” he said, squinting, “I’ll just read it out loud.”

“That would be the idea.”

He blew a short raspberry at her. “Dear Rachnera Arachne. That’s you.”

She rolled all six of her eyes.

“It pains me to hear a being such as you has been brought to this world against your will,” he read the words slowly, some of them rolling over his tongue as if not sure of the taste. “Rest as...ash,” Random scrunched his brows as he squinted.

“Assured?” Rachnera offered helpfully.

“...assured you are not the first liminal from another world to come to ours. Though the occur...ranches?..”

“Occurrences.”

“...occurrences are rare, they are not as rare as some would think. Unfor...unfortune...ately? unfortunately, there is nothing that can be done at this time. I have been able to reach out to your world and as of yet have been unable to contact the government agency res...res..pon...sible for overseeing Host Families and the liminals ass..igned to them.”

“So, they know?” Rachnera arched a brow. To say she was surprised might have been a tad of an understatement.

“What’s that mean?” Random asked, looking up from the letter.

“Your princess knows of my world,” the spider woman replied, with disbelief. Shaking her head, she smiled at the colt. “Nevermind that for now. I’m sorry I interrupted you. Please continue. You’re doing very well.”

Random hiccuped and blinked. Rachnera was wondering when this was going to come and was surprised it had not come sooner. “Is Grandma gonna be okay?” he asked with a trembling lower lip. “They wouldn’t hurt her, would they? She said lots of bad things about them. She-she told stories…” There were sniffles and tears began streaming down his furry cheeks.

Rachnera hugged the poor little guy, her heart melting. Sure, she was a cold blooded huntress who enjoyed practicing her art of Shibari on her housemates, but even a spider had a soft spot for vulnerable children. Adults were fun to play mind games with, but children required a certain touch, soft and delicate. At least, that was how she viewed it. Perhaps one day she would even grace the world with a child of her own.

“I’m sure she’ll be fine,” she assured him in her most soothing, motherly voice. “We’ll find out why all of this is going on.”

“Promise?” he sniffled.

“I promise,” she whispered in his ear. “Get some sleep. Tomorrow will be a good day.”

“Okay,” Random murmured, closing his eyes. He promptly fell asleep.

An eyebrow twitched. Rachnera deadpanned. Oh, sure, of course you would fall asleep at the snap of the fingers!

Having the colt in her arms served the purpose of having something like a massively upgraded teddy bear. Random served the purpose he had not intended and Rachnera fell asleep wondering what else was in the letter.

Ah, well, tomorrow would be a better day.

Alarm clocks weren’t supposed to be painful and annoying. There had been a noise, an unwanted voice, and it would not stop. Something shook her world and the image of Honey faded away, which put her in a sour mood. If it was Miia, then there would be a reckoning.

“Um, Miss Spider?” There was something hard poking her in the side of her second abdomen. “Miss Spider, could you please wake up?” The voice in her foggy mind was familiar and bovine. There was another poke.

Random squirmed in her arms, making a little annoyed sound as he snuggled closer to the liminal. “G’way,” he mumbled through his muzzle.

Cracking three eyes open, Rachnera focused on who was poking her. “Stop that,” she said irritably, finding her hand on a broom handle and snatching it away. “That’s annoying.”

“My husband interrogated the prisoner this morning,” Bria said, backing towards the door. She was wearing a smirk. “The poor thing sang like a bird when he brought out the rope and made a noose.” A lustful sigh followed. “Anyways, there is breakfast downstairs and it’s going to get cold.”

“Why the broom?” groaned Rachnera with a sleepy yawn.

“I had been trying for the past five minutes. You were out like a corpse.”

“Sorry about that. I was very tired.”

Bria squinted her eyes and pointed. “Young Master Random has taken a shine to you. You’re already a part of his herd.” She chuckled.

“Herd? What’s that supposed to mean?” Rachnera asked, a bit more awake and curious.

“Ponies make herds,” the minotaur said as if it was as simple as that, “it’s part of their social structuring. Herds can mean many things, but I am not at all surprised he considers you a part of his. Foal herds are pretty innocent and more for security. Random there is about as innocent as you get when it comes to foals. He doesn’t make trouble on purpose, he minds his elders most of the time, and he cleans up after himself. His curiosity gets him into trouble, as well as his belief strangers are just friends he hasn’t met.”

“I figured as much,” Rachnera smiled. “All right, I’ll be down in a moment. I’ll bring sleepy head here with me.”

“Please do,” Bria nodded and closed the door behind her.

Rachnera then spent the next few minutes scratching Random between the ears until he woke up. “Breakfast is waiting for us,” she told him as he groggily came to wakefulness.

“Food?”

“Yes. Get up. We’ve got a long day ahead of us.” She rolled off and dropped to the floor, the tips of her legs clacking against the wooden floor. Reaching up into the hammock, she plucked Random from it and set him down. The letter had fallen to the floor, she noticed. Picking it up, she set it on the bed.

She put on her top and the two then went downstairs to the common room. Bria and Lucifer were waiting for them, as well as Winter Shimmer and Bright Luster. The two mares were already eating and seemed halfway through their meal. Breakfast appeared to be some sort of porridge, with bits of spiced apples and nuts added.

Random could smell it and his nostrils flared as he hurried to his mother’s side. She smiled and nuzzled him, then ushered the colt into a seat next to her. Bria appeared and put a bowl filled with his breakfast in front of him. He dug in with gusto, forgoing utensils and just sticking his muzzle in. The minotaur cow shared a laugh with the two mares as they watched him.

Winter’s smile faded when her eyes lifted and beheld the form of Rachnera Arachnera taking her place at the table. “Good morning,” she said politely. “I see my son found comfort with you.” Her voice hinted at jealousy.

“So he did,” Rachnera agreed. There was no point in trying to antagonize the mare, though the frosty reception was understandable, even if the liminal felt it was not her fault. She dug out the letter Random had read to her last night. “He read part of this to me before becoming upset about his grandmother.”

“Why would he do that?” Winter asked.

“The pendant lets her understand and speak spoken Ponish, not read it,” Bright Luster piped up. “If you don’t mind me asking, since it came with Princess Celestia’s Royal Seal, what does it say?”

Rachnera passed over the letter in question. “Here. You can read it yourself and tell me what you think.”

Bright did just that. Rachnera was served breakfast by Bria, who was thanked. She ate, finding the porridge to be quite tasty. “I had no idea the Princess knew of your world,” she said with wide eyes. “She’s sending somepony within the next day or two to pick you up and take you to Canterlot. Apparently this is a very big deal to her.”

Rachnera swallowed her spoonful. “Oh? That is very good news. Does she know of what’s going on with the village and the dogs? She might be interested to know there are shenanigans going on around here that are playing hell with her subjects.”

“We’ve asked the mailmare to stay overnight so we could send a more formal request for help,” Winter said as she fawned over her son. “We have a major problem that we just don’t have enough hooves to take care of. My husband is bent on going on some last stand foolishness against impossible odds and it’s got me at my wits end.”

The liminal winced, thinking of Merrow’s mother. “Yeah, that might not be a good thing to have to deal with,” she conceded, then took another bite of breakfast.

“I’ve put up with it for a dozen years,” Winter said with a sigh. “It’s usually something easy to deal with. I have no words to describe some of my husband’s obsessions.”

“Insanity,” Rachnera chirped with a shrug.

“Yes, I know.”

“Daddy is crazy, sometimes,” Random said, looking up from his bowl. “He’s always talking about our family and its history with this land.”

Winter smiled at her son. “Yes, well, Daddy thinks the Battle of Shimmering and the near extinction of his family line that day is such an amazing topic to obsess about. I am so glad you didn’t turn out like him.”

“Battle of Shimmering?”

Winter nodded. “Five hundred years ago, there was the largest battle ever fought on Equestrian soil around here. The ruins in the middle of the forest was once the city of Shimmering. The minotaurs led by their Black King razed it and slaughtered its citizens. The day after that, Princess Celestia led her army against his in a battle that took a few days to be fought. It could be said it was a victory for the Equestrians, as the minotaur army and its Black King were driven from the field, but the losses were staggering on both sides. Lord Shimmer and his retainers were all slaughtered in the vanguard, and his wife and her household were killed when the city fell. Only a single colt managed to make it and he and his line lived in Canterlot until Sunrise decided to take up his family’s mantle and move out here to reestablish the duchy. That’s more or less the abridged version of the history around here. Out there, there are thousands of unmarked graves where soldiers were buried where they fell.”

Rachnera let out a slow whistle. “And your husband is obsessed with his family’s tragedy from that day five hundred years ago?”

The mare grimaced. “He’s been wanting to restore his family’s prestige. The village here produces wine and around the anniversary of the days of the battle, there is a festival for a week during the last days of summer. We get quite a bit of tourism and a lot of minotaurs like to make a pilgrimage here to see the battlefield for themselves.”

“The villagers enjoy it,” Bright said with a grin. “The calves always are the most curious!”

Bria came up to the table. “Lucifer asked for you to see him when you are done eating.”

“He’s over by the same cell you were put in,” Bright said to Rachnera.

“Did he say anything about the interrogation?” she asked Bright.

Winter spoke up, “Indeed. The changeling was very forthcoming. Something about an aversion to pain, but he did confess to knowing where the foals and pups were being held.”

“It doesn’t sound like he’s in a hurry,” Rachnera noted with a frown. “Anything about Peggy?”

“She’s with them and unharmed, according to our prisoner.”

“Good. Then let’s not waste any more time.” Rachnera pushed herself from the table. Smiling at Bria, she proclaimed, “Breakfast was wonderful! Thank you!”

“Bright, if you could please watch over Random?” Winter brushed her son’s mane out of his eyes.

“Can I come?” he asked.

“No, dear, I need you to take a bath and stay with the other foals until Mommy can take care of things. This won’t take long.”

“Awww!” he whined.

The changeling, as it turned out, was far happier to see Rachnera than he was to be in the presence of Lucifer. “I’d rather be eaten by you than listen to all the ways he wants to skin and mount me like some trophy!” he begged.

The liminal did not know if it was an insult or a compliment.

“Just tell us everything we want to know and I’ll think about it,” she told the trembling, horrified, and traumatized changeling. Which, in hindsight, might not have been a very nice thing to suggest. But, she reasoned, what the changelings had done was terrible, so she felt justified.

“I already told him everything!” he cried, pointing a holed foreleg at the minotaur. “They’re in the wine cellar behind the Shimmer home!”

Sunrise was shaking his head, sputtering incoherent words under his breath. His wife had to stick his snout into a brown paper bag as he hyperventilated.

Rachnera turned to Lucifer. “Wine cellar?”

“Yep.”

“Foals and pups are there?”

“Yep.”

“Expecting trouble?”

“More than likely, though I’m not sure if it’s the sort of trouble anycow is ready for,” he admitted as he tugged on an ear.

Anycow?

“Well, let’s get this over with.”

It was a wine cellar dug into the side of a hill, the arched opening was large enough for a pony to walk through. The cellar itself was impressive, with rows of huge wooden casks lining the room stacked four high. On each cask was writing, showing what field the grapes had come from, as well as the year and month the wine was made, and the name of the family who owned it. The fluorescent lighting was low and sparse, giving the sense of firelight without the flickering. The cool air was dry and was stirred by small, slow turning fans hanging from the ceiling. There were a few cobwebs in the corners here and there.

Rachnera had to crouch and hug her second abdomen to the floor to avoid hitting the ceiling with her head. Ahead of her was Winter and Sunrise, their horns providing more light for the room. The guards (which were no more than villagers in armor, Rachnera discovered) had fanned out and were poking around the casks. There were only three of them and they were unicorns.

Leaving a trail of silk behind her, the liminal was not sure what to expect. The changeling had insisted this was the place and now had a massive man cow honing an ax in front of it. The would-be imposter seemed to be young, but was reluctant to volunteer any information. He (or she) insisted Peggy was unharmed and was being prepared for transport to the hive. Changelings don’t harm their victims nor, the creature assured, would they resort to cold blooded murder. Upon revealing that much, the poor thing clammed up and fainted when Lucifer began running a thumb over the edge of his woodcutting ax.

Reflecting back to less than half an hour ago, Rachnera had then sensed they were dealing with a child and mentioned her thoughts to the old minotaur. He shrugged, put an odd iron ring on the changeling’s horn, and took a whetstone to his ax. “Wife needs wood for cooking,” he had explained. “Don’t you worry about this little...thing. The ring negates magic. Works on unicorns and should work here. If it doesn’t, I’ve got a little insurance.” A grim smile followed.

There was the possibility of walking into a trap. Though the arachne was not a soldier by any stretch of the word, she was still an apex predator and excelled at ambushes. It did not take a genius to figure that out. Having seen the common sense capabilities of some of the ponies, Rachnera had taken steps to keep the bungling at a minimum. It wasn’t that they were bad at dealing with threats, but rather an observant Miss Spider realizing ponies were so used to peace and prosperity that when said threats showed themselves, naive decisions were made.

Sunrise had warned them to stay within sight of each other. He had ignored Winter’s suggestion of keeping everyone in groups of two. Rachnera flashed some silk in her palm to the mare when she gave her an exasperated look. Flicking her wrists, she attached them to the unicorns fanning out and kept tabs. If anything were to happen, she felt a quick yank on her silk would pull them to safety. That was the hope. Of course, she never bothered to let the others know. There was too much chance of protests and things about personal space and whatnot.

There was a room in the back, a place where wine was tasted and sampled. The group worked with deliberate slowness, their steps muffled by silencing magic. Rachnera was there to bring her quick binding skills. There was also storage for unused wine bottles. They were stored in wooden crates, with a couple open while others were stacked up on top of each other and to one wall. There was still nothing and the gloomy lighting was putting the guards on the brink of spooking.

They stumbled across two changelings at the other door and asleep at their posts. Rachnera moved in and had them bound before they could be startled awake. She even took care to stuff silk into their mouths so they could not cry out and bit them with her paralyzing bite.

She ignored the looks of horror and disgust the guards gave her. Lucifer just shrugged and moved the newly acquired prisoners aside. He gave the arachne a lopsided grin. Winter and Sunrise gave her blank looks before moving to the door. They listened at the door and paused for a moment with their ears pressed against the wood.

“You’d better go in first,” Lucifer whispered to Rachnera, “the changelings have this fear of you on sight, kind of like the aura of fear I can put out.”

The mare and the stallion nodded. The guards fell back, dragging their captives with them.

“We’ll be right behind you,” Winter said to Rachnera. “Try not to kill anypony and subdue as fast as you can.”

“Whatever,” Rachnera replied as she pushed the door open. She had been expecting more from the changelings and this was too absurd to even comprehend. This was horrid security.

What she saw was even more confusing once she stepped into the room.

There was a small, circular table. Around that table were several foals and Diamond Dog pups. There was tea set out, with all the cups and saucers and little spoons. There were scones on little plates served to each guest. At the center was a teapot, with a tin of sugar cubes and a small carafe of cream. Rachnera could see each child had a strange green glow to their eyes and they were all gawking up at her without comprehension.

“Hey!” a little voice cried out from the table. It was a dark little bug horse, thinner than the ones that had been captured. She had blue harlequin eyes that were wide with indignation as her wings buzzed in her irritation. Her horn was longer than the other changelings, curving up from the center of her forehead. Her ears were long and floppy and her round face was framed by a wispy sea green mane that hung over one shoulder in a tail bound by a fluorescent green bow. “You weren’t invited to my party! Royalty and guests only!”

Peggy ambled up to the little changeling, her eyes also glowing a strange green. “Would Her Highness like me tae dispose of yon riff-raff?”

“My Highness would!” shouted the imperious little creature. “Where are my worthless Royal Guard? This interruption of my tea party is unforgivable!”

“What the actual hell is going on here?” Rachnera demanded. “Who are you?”

“I am Her Royal Highness Atalanta, Crown Princess of the Changelings, Daughter of Queen Chrysalis of all the Changeling Hives and these are my newest subjects!” declared the little changeling with arrogance. Her imperious mood shifted and her expression became hopeful. “Do you want to be my friend, too? I can always use more friends!”

“Like them?” the liminal pointed at the gathered ‘friends’ of the proclaimed princess.

“Every Royal should have her own court. Momma says so! You can be my vizier! You’re also a spider and Momma would be really impressed if I showed her I got a spider to do my bidding!”

“Shall I prepare our new guest a spot of tea?” Peggy asked helpfully.

“Mother!” Winter cried out from behind Rachnera. “You’re alive!”

“Who is this?” demanded Sunrise as he surged in front of Rachnera. “What is going on here?”

“This is not what I was expecting,” Lucifer observed from the door. He was hunched over so he could fit his massive bulk. “At least we found the missing children.”

“Shall I make room for yer guests? Me daughter and me ungrateful an’ pompous son-in-law have joined us, as well as Lucifer Heavens the minotaur.” Peggy glared at Sunrise.

Princess Atalanta’s stance faltered and she slumped a little in her seat. “Parlay?” she asked, waving a little white napkin. “Momma will be so disappointed in me.”

Rachnera covered her eyes and rubbed the bridge of her nose. “How in the hell does any of this make sense? I should have stayed in bed. Life was so less complicated when I was still in bed.”

1. Arachnophobia

Author's Note

Ladies and gentlecolts, colts and fillies, readers of all ages! I am both proud and humble to present to you a new story to break my near two year hiatus from writing. This story was inspired by Estee's story Daily Equestria Life with Monster Girl. Because of that story, I went and bought the anime, watched it, fell in love with it through the process of binging, and decided to write this story.

So Estee, where ever you are, thank you very, very much. I actually thought I was done with writing horse words, but your story inspired this one.

So, without further ado, enjoy!

1. Arachnophobia

Edited byTuxOKC.

How?

Why?

Where?

One word questions are often the beaches before a vast ocean of speculation. For one individual, such questions followed the ending of one chapter of her life and began a new one. The world was filled with strange things, mysterious things. Accepting such things was not difficult if one was subjected to a daily assault of the absurd. Life had certainly not been dull, to say the least.

She had awoken in a forest with no knowledge of how she had arrived. Nothing smelled familiar, even the very air itself felt...alien. No, wait… as her head cleared, her memory returned to her along with a pounding headache. The last memory was that of some demented sorceress, a demoness that had vowed vengeance for the treatment of her little sister. The world flashed, there was pain, then darkness.

Fear was a thing to be suppressed. It was something she did very well, for fear was one of her most invaluable weapons. Being a predator instilled within her the instincts necessary in being one. Among her kind, there were few peers. However, life had recently been kind and she felt she had found love in the form of one Kimihito Kurusu, her Honey.

Fear was also a thing that could manifest in the worst of ways at the most unexpected moment. Honey was nowhere near and nothing around her was familiar. Nor could she sense the other girls, the competition she delighted in teasing, so sure of herself and the patient journey that would surely present unto her the ultimate prize. Being the wife of a human wasn’t going to be such a bad thing, not if the human in question was her Honey. He was living proof humans were capable of kindness and understanding, but in the six eyes of Rachnera Arachnera, Kimihito was a rare man indeed.

He was gone, though. The girls were gone. Her home was gone. Her world…

The trees here were strange, like nothing she had ever seen before. The air was filled with the sounds of creatures which aroused caution within her. Though she was a huntress, ambush was her expertise. Rachnera did little fumbling through her confusion with this strange, new place. Nothing felt fully natural to her and her instincts told her so. The Arachne trusted her instincts.

Caution dictated her thoughts, though the back of her mind roiled in desperation. Home! How do I find my way home? To my Honey?

Life was not fair. Rachnera had long ago accepted this, but her world had been stripped from her by a demon. She had been removed from her love.

So, instead of running around and searching aimlessly for something she knew would not be found, Rachnera instead webbed up a tree and placed herself deep within its branches near the trunk so she could think. Acting in an irrational manner would not be very helpful. She had some understanding of the powers of demons, though there was no way she could have known even one would possess a power like this.

The most difficult part of herself Rachnera found she had to deal with was her sense of hopelessness. In short, it did not take long for the depression to set in. So, she brooded in her webbed tree, unsure (if she was completely honest with herself) as to what to do now. There was a chance she might find help, but first of all, she was not sure if there were sapient beings here and secondly, would they accept her appearance?

Doubtful.

The Arachne found fear had taken a grip upon her, freezing her to inaction as she tried to think of a way home. After three days, she was certain this was no longer Earth. There were vague teases that tickled her senses, but it felt as though she was being mocked. For three days as she brooded within her sanctuary, this new world teased her. The smells, the sensations, the instincts from within…

Fear gave way to anger, and not in a smooth way.

It was the sunset of her fourth day when the liminal emerged from her leafy fortress. The air itself seemed to reel from the anger emanating from her form. Her pedipalps were brought up to her chest, which at first glance might have been confused for human legs. Eight spidery legs carried her to the top of the canopy of her tree so she might get the lay of the land. Arms crossed under her breasts of her top human half, Rachnera glared at the horizon, daring there be nothing to catch her interest.

The ocean of trees appeared to have a break in them, the Arachne noted after taking in her surroundings for the first time. Mental beratement coursed through her inner conversation with herself. There appeared to be the lights of civilization at the foot of some lazy hills breaking up the forest just over a kilometer away, she guessed. Beyond lay a sleepy mountain range, bathed in the golden rays of the setting sun.

Rage seized Rachnera focused almost entirety at herself. Should she ever find the demoness that had done this to her, rest assured there would be a reckoning of sweet, sweet revenge! Narrowing her eyes and setting thoughts of revenge aside, she made up her mind. With a deep breath and calm self assurance, the anger melted away. It was time to do a little bit of snooping. With the onset of night, sneaking around and getting a good idea of the inhabitants of yonder village without being spotted would be much easier.

She paused in mid step as the setting sun appeared to be falling at a rate that was impossible. Just as impossible, the moon rose and it was not at all like the one she knew at home. Gaping at the heavenly bodies as they swapped places with a complete ignorance of physics, Rachnera trembled, clutching at her wool sweater. Somehow it had managed to remain intact and (somewhat) clean.

“How?” came the first words she had spoken since coming to this place. Rachnera took a thumb and forefinger and rubbed the bridge of her nose. Was this some sort of pocket dimension? Was this some creation of a god for his or her own personal amusement in aeons past? Was this just a really bad caffeine trip?

“Hate this. Hate everything,” Rachnera muttered, her crimson monochromatic eyes rolling in their sockets. With a huff, she crawled with no effort out of the tree and set across the forest floor in a silent glide, her spider legs propelling her forward in stealthy silence.

Her journey took her up into the trees as she decided to avoid unwanted encounters, a combination of her legs and webbing making travel something of a walk in the park. Rachnera was loathe to travel distances, being more of a stay at home girl. There was but one goal on her mind and that was to find a way home. So she could find the demoness. So she could get back with her Honey and do things with him. Naughty, lewd things.

Once she broke through the treeline, Rachnera paused to take a good look at the dwellings she had glimpsed earlier. As it was night, her vision was quite good and she could make out buildings that would be found in Bavaria. It was… quaint. There were few street lamps and the village itself was not very large. Most of the light came from within the homes and could be seen through windows left open by their inhabitants.

She did not emerge from the forest. Though the village was at its edge, Rachnera gave pause, her ears catching something that did not belong. As silent as a wraith, she went up a nearby tree and settled deep within its shadows.

Not far from where she had been on the ground, several bipedal creatures slinked from beneath the cover of the trees. Their posture suggested they did not live here. There was a certain intent here, something that made the Arachne purse her lips and narrow each of her eyes.

They were dogs? The Arachne blinked in confusion. Ugly Kobolds, if she were to hazard a guess. Very ugly Kobolds! They varied in size, most of them appearing to be taller than the average human. They were covered in fur, wearing haphazard armor, scrounged from whatever they could get their hands on. In their hands… paws? they carried an assortment of weapons and tools ranging from clubs to nets. Their arms were very long to the point where knuckles were nearly dragging along the ground. Their legs were shorter than would be expected on a biped. How odd. What were these Kobolds? Were they slavers? What sort of world was this?

“Interesting,” she mused under her breath.

Rachnera weighed her options. She was certain no matter where she went, others would see her as a monster. Very few individuals could get over her hideous lower half. Spiders were in general regarded in fear and were hated.

What would Honey do? she found the thought poking its way to the forefront of her mind. Rachnera was certain he would be concerned with innocents, those who could not protect themselves, as well as the moral implications of what was unfolding before her eyes.

Should she allow the events to come to pass and not lift a finger? It was clear she was not on Earth anymore, which meant…

An evil grin splayed across her lovely face. It was a hideous, wonderful thing. Stress on a girl did nasty things to her complexion and here was an opportunity to alleviate that. There were no laws, no Agent Smith to worry about. Here, the Arachne might be able to unleash her fury upon these dogs and perhaps endear herself to the locals in the process.

Tilting her head to one side, she admitted to herself the endearment part might be a bit of a long shot.

The dogs were speaking to each other in a tongue Rachnera was not familiar with. They seemed to be arguing with each other. Two in particular, she guessed to be brothers, growled heatedly while their companions whimpered and waited to see which one would win out. All went silent when a voice called out from the village. The dogs ducked low, the two bigger brutes giving each other accusing glares.

Rachnera smirked, casting her gaze upon the owner of the voice. Her vision found a quadruped, perhaps a meter tall at the shoulder with an oversized head in proportion to its body. It seemed to be equine, vaguely, and had a red coat and a pine green mane and tail.

What the actual hell?

The clash of colors had to be a crime against nature! Still, there was something adorable about the little… pony… thing. The language it spoke was odd and not at all Japanese, or any other language she could identify. The same could be said about the dogs, though their sounds were distinctly what would be expected from canines… if they had a spoken language.

Unsure as to how to handle this, Rachnera fell deeper into the shadows. This was all strange to her, surreal. Though she was used to dealing with weird things, this was a new world, which meant there would be different rules. Who was in charge? Were the dogs the masters here or were the ponies? Were they the playthings of something more powerful? The key, she reasoned, would be to find out who had the power here. Upon finding that out, it would behoove the Arachne to find out if said power would either aid her or hinder her. It was impossible to say at this point. She knew nothing of this place.

Damn that demon!

Yes, she was frustrated. Indeed, Rachnera wanted to vent. However, she realized she would have to be practical about this. Perhaps it would be wiser to watch everything play out in front of her and make a decision then. She never was the hero type and could at times be selfish.

Then another figure joined the equine. It was also an equine, but clad in armor! In one of its front legs it gripped a spear, using it as a fourth leg. Its helmet was plumed, much like what ancient soldiers would have worn. In front of the plume was what appeared to be a spiraled horn. It had a hard look to its eyes. The first equine pointed at the treeline, babbling in a fearful tone. The armored equine nodded and barked out what could only be orders. From around the building emerged more of the armed and armored equines, maybe a dozen or so.

Rachnera decided to stay out of it, a part of her disappointed.

The dogs growled again, the two big ones jostling with each other before one howled and bayed off into the woods. The others followed, also baying. The other big dog snarled, glaring at the equines, then loped off after his friends into the forest.

The equines… ponies, Rachnera supposed she could call them, moved from the village and spread out just short of entering the woods. Within the village itself, more equines were emerging from their homes, gathering in a group and watching with fearful eyes. The Arachne studied them, catching sight of smaller ones for a brief moment before the bigger ones shooed them back into their respective homes.

Were they children? They made Rachnera’s heart melt, if only for a moment. They were cute. Kids were so bothersome. Always in the way. Although she would not mind making a child with dear Honey…

Idly she watched as the soldier ponies shouted at each other. Keeping in communication, she thought. So, was this some form of military? A militia, maybe? Rachnera flexed her fingers, memorizing fuzzy faces and colorful eyes. How would they react if they saw her? Stupid question. Rachnera made a bitter smirk. What could she do? What would she do? What were her options?

Eventually the pony soldiers went back to the village, leaving the Arachne alone to figure out what she should do.

This would have to be done with great care. Rachnera was certain any reaction to the sight of her would be less than welcoming, but she needed help. She was the outsider here.

From her vantage point, the village appeared to have been built around a crossroad. There was a large square with a water fountain at its center. The fountain bore a longer legged version of the equines with wings spread wide and a long, spiralling horn sprouting from its forehead. It was the most remarkable feature. There were signs on some buildings. The writing was, of course in the local language, though there seemed to be an almost childlike quality to it. Certain buildings were easy to identify, no matter what language. There was an inn, the largest building, a bakery, a general store of sorts, and a pair of official buildings, one of them possibly a town hall. They were arrayed around the town’s center in a circle. The rest were homes.

Something caught her attention. Just off one of the two main roads and just on the edge of the town was what appeared to be a large run-down house. Even in the darkness of night, the moon showed the scars left behind by fire at the windows and doors. Part of the roof had collapsed in on itself.

Taking a moment to make sure there were no more natives out and about in the night, Rachnera found her way towards the broken house. It seemed a bit out of place from the rest of the village, she noted. The architecture was different, reminding her of a small palace or a plantation house. It was massive and its walls were made of solid stone. Perhaps a rich native’s retreat at some point in the past? It was difficult to say.

As she moved, the Arachne placed silk, her spinnerets dipping every once in a while as she moved with instinctive ease. Her choice to not go into the house directly was deliberate, going around it several times, moving quickly as she kept her focus towards unwanted attention. No one had been around the house in a long time. There were no tracks or prints or any indication that the grounds had been disturbed for some time. There had been a gate, though the stone walls in front of the house had long ago been removed, perhaps to help build the other houses of the village.

As she did this, her thoughts went towards the dogs and the equines. It was obvious there was some sort of conflict between the two. “The ugly Kobolds aren’t welcome around here,” the Arachne told herself as her spider legs carried her up to the front door. “Raiders or bandits, I think. Very odd bodies. The arms are wrong, the legs are wrong. And the ponies…”

She pursed her lips as she slipped through the front doors. She had to duck her upper torso to fit through. The frame was not designed for humans and she could barely squeeze through. Even though she did have an enormous spider half, Rachnera had little trouble. Once inside, she found herself in a dusty foyer. A grand staircase opened before her. There were doors to either side of the room and more at the top of the stairs. The elegance in the design and the spaciousness was surprising as though whoever designed it wanted a visitor to feel welcomed. It was a shame it was run down and had seen years of neglect. The fire damage at least did not seem as bad.

“The little horses don’t look like proper horses,” Rachnera went to the stairs, laying a delicate touch to the wooden railing. Her sharp fingertips trailed along as she ascended the stairs, each leg placed with care. There was no telling how sound the wood was. “Those eyes are far too large and how do they have the muscles to keep such large heads up?”

The top of the staircase became a balcony that went around either side. There were doors at both ends leading to other rooms. Cobwebs were everywhere. Even though half of her was spider, the Arachne enjoyed a clean place to live and preferred her own webbing to make a place feel like home. The fire damage was in its full glory. The charred wood and scorched stone was far more noticable. The first set of doors were half burned and the room beyond was a blackened mess. The fire had eaten through the floor and beams from the ceiling had broken and fallen within. Debris was everywhere. Pale moonlight bathed Rachnera as she peeked in. Looking up, the pale sphere seemed to be looking directly at her. Finding nothing of interest, the Arachne pulled back to the top of the stairs.

Moving to the left of the top of the staircase, she went to the next doorway. The door itself was gone. Someone had shattered it from the other side. What remained of it was on the floor in front of Rachnera and on the floor of the foyer below. A quick peek inside saw a continuation of the roof collapse, though the floor was intact. Furniture could be seen, ruined by the fire and the elements since.

Again, nothing of real interest. She pulled back again and was prepared to move on to the next room when the unmistakable sound of hooves on wood found her ears. Far too small to be Cerea!

It was one of the little ponies. A pale yellow coat with red and orange mane. Impossibly large blue eyes. A stub of a horn in the middle of its forehead. It gaped at her.

Rachnera froze. “How did you get in here?” she demanded, trying to keep her voice level and pleasant so as to not spook the little thing. If it were to run back to the village and raise the alarm. Oh, no, that would not do. That would not do at all!

The pony-horse-thing babbled at her, backpedaling. Was it apologizing? Those eyes flicked up towards the liminal’s face, then down towards the massive spider torso and back again. They were round as saucers and overflowing with fear. Its little legs quivered.

“Oh dear,” Rachnera hissed. “Can’t have you running off!” She darted forward, her legs a blur.

The little pony let out a cry before spider legs were all around it. Four legs grabbed while the other four kept Rachnera up. Her spinnerets dipped in, the little pony turned by her legs. There was no intent to harm and the Arachne had no interest in it. Even as she cocooned the poor little thing, her mind raced as for what to do with this spot of bother. Within seconds the pony was bound good and proper, its muzzle clamped shut firmly with her fingers. Tears streamed down its cheeks as it stared in muted horror at the spider monster.

Rachnera held her prize before her. Her free hand caressed the cheek of the weeping pony-horse-thing, certain it was about to be gobbled up right there on the spot.

A finger went to her lips. “Shh, little one, I am not going to eat you. Yet,” Rachnera could not help herself. “If I unclamp your muzzle, are you going to scream?”

The little pony stared at her, whimpering.

The Arachne caressed the other cheek. “I will not hurt you,” she stressed with a little more sincerity. Tilting her head to one side she gave the little creature a reassuring smile, taking care to keep her teeth hidden. “Shh. It’s okay. I want to be your friend. Do you understand?”

No, she really did not expect the little pony to understand. Releasing the muzzle, she retracted her fingers, spreading them and easing them away so those large eyes could follow. Her eyes scanned the area, seeking out other intruders. Her ears were perked and two of her legs felt for vibrations through the webbing she had laid out along the perimeter.

Meanwhile, the pony was staring at her retreating hand, making more of those whimpering sounds. Its ears were pressed back against its skull. Fear trembled through its little form, leaving the liminal feeling guilty for giving it such a fright. Rachnera was not a fan of being a bully. There was a difference between annoying others for the sake of self amusement and scaring the living daylights out of a child in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Yet…

“How did you get in here, little one?” she cooed at the pony. Was it a foal? It would have to be one if it was indeed an equine. The creature was definitely horse-like. It had hooves, a mane and a tail, and she had heard them whinny in their tongue. Would Cerea be able to communicate with them? Transferring the pony from her spider legs to her human arms, she cradled it like a baby, stroking its face in an effort to calm the little thing down.

It had not come in through the front door, but how did it come in? Was there another entrance around here? It was a very large house and there had been a couple of other doors. Rachnera would have noticed before going inside and certainly after. Very little could get past her web without notice.

The poor thing was still crying, though now there were adorable little sniffles thrown in for good measure. Guilt tugged at her heart. With one finger she booped it on the nose. “I want to check a few things and then I’ll let you go, okay?” Rachnera smiled down at the pony. “Let’s see if there’s a tunnel or some secret passage you used.” Her gaze shifted to the dusty floor. There were visible hoofprints. She followed them, slipping through the doorway and hugging her new little friend to her chest.

The pony tried to struggle through the webbing, but of course that was impossible. Her eyes darted around the room as she entered, noting it was untouched by the fire. This might at one time have been a personal office. The furniture had been exquisite at one time, but the film of filth from the smoke and time had all but ruined it. Once in the middle of the room, the Arachne went still and took a moment to attune herself to her senses while her eyes followed the little pony’s trail.

This house had once been the home of someone of wealth and stature. A painting—in a state of perfect preservation—depicted what appeared to be a family of the equine creatures. There was a well-dressed and proud mustached (mustache?) male, the father, an elegant and haughty female, and a gaggle of little ones of various ages surrounding them. Curious as to the remarkable condition of the painting, Rachnera reached out and touched the canvas. Her chitinous fingertip sparked on contact, making her yelp in surprise as she jumped back.

There was a muffled protest from between her breasts.

“That was unexpected,” she muttered as her attention shifted downwards to her unwanted charge. “And you’re a boy, aren’t you?” She pulled him away, smirking. “Yes, you are most definitely male.” A laugh, a genuine laugh escaped her lips, her shoulders shaking as she covered her lips with her free hand.

“You are the sweetest thing!” Rachnera praised the pony. Would that make him a colt? Is that what young male horses were called? Would that make the pony children foals? “Now, how did you get in here?”

Little hoofprints were everywhere. Did the little guy live here? A moment of clarity struck her. Taking another look at the painting, her attention shifted to the colt. She peeled a bit of her webbing from his face for a better look and held him up with one hand. As he dangled like a trussed up kitten, she compared the colt to the ponies in the painting.

“I think I see a resemblance,” she observed. “Now I’m curious as to what your story is, my little friend. However, I need to find out how I’m supposed to get home. Maybe you can help, hmm? Would you like to be my little helper?”

The colt seemed to have calmed down. His huge eyes stared at her. With deliberate slowness, she set him down. A single fingertip tore through the spider silk in a deft motion and the pony suddenly found himself free.

“There. I apologize for tying you up,” Rachnera said to him in a sweet tone. “But I can’t risk letting you run away and—”

He was gone in a puff of smoke, having disappeared into the wall.

Rachnera blinked at where he had been.

“Well,” she deadpanned, “shit.”

2. Do You Believe in Magic?

Edited byTuxOKC.

Rachnera hated running. There was no dignity in running. It was wasted energy that could be better utilized for other things. The Arachne hated all forms of exercise. It lead to sweat and she hated sweat…

Well, except for certain instances with a certain Honey.

The hole in the wall where the little colt had escaped was far to small for even her human torso to fit. A bookshelf had rotted away, leaning to one side, concealing the road to freedom for the furry, four legged child. Smirking at how quickly her former captive had moved and also a bit miffed at herself for not thinking he would bolt, the Arachne sighed and straightened herself up.

“Oh, dear, and I was hoping this might make a nice place to use as a home until I figure out what to do,” she said to herself as she rubbed her shoulders. She spun on her spider legs, still wondering as to how that young pony had eluded her web. The vibrations of his steps would have warned her through her simple yet effective early warning system.

Now, there was something about this room Rachnera found interesting. The painting appeared as though it had been done just yesterday, though the frame itself was as worn from time as everything else. Shafts of moonlight bathed the room through the massive window that took up almost the entire wall. Only bits of glass clung to the rotten pane. Most of the shards seemed to have blown outwards, the liminal supposed, as there was little on the floor itself. Of course, it was possible some of it might have been cleaned in the aftermath, but who was to say?

How could the family portrait be so perfectly preserved?

Rachnera sighed again. It would have to wait and her curiosity would have to be in passing. More pressing matters needed her attention. Namely, she would more than likely have to find somewhere else to work from. Having been discovered, no doubt her slip up in securing her prisoner would result in a swarm of soldier ponies coming her way. A fight was the last thing she wanted.

Still, there was something about the little pony she found as odd. Working her way back to the room with the collapsed ceiling, she studied the broken beams and rafters and wondered if they could bear her weight (not that she was fat, mind you). One leg reached out and tapped the wood, pushing down on it. Then another was added. As a precaution, one of the support beams in the wall was tethered to with a quick swipe of the spinnerets. Like any spider, Rachnera used her own webbing as a sort of safety cable, as she was prone to put some distance between herself and the ground.

Fortune smiled upon the Arachne as the ceiling did not give. Moving with purpose, the tips of her legs clicked across the wood and stone. Soon she had a vantage point beneath the light of the moon, taking care to not let her silhouette crest the top of the roof. She found some shadow against one of the massive stone chimneys and set herself to observe for any sign of an alarm.

For minutes, she waited, watching. Nothing came from the village. Minutes stretched into an eternity and she remained patient. There was no mob of equines carrying pitchforks and torches.

How odd.

If they were equines like on earth, would they not have some sort of herd mentality? Rachnera scissored her fingers and set her elbows on the roof as she rested her chin on the her knuckles. Her spider torso lay flat with her legs curled forward in case she should need to move fast. Once she figured an hour had passed, the Arachne hummed to herself and squinted her monochromatic eyes at the village.

“I need a bath,” she said to herself. Her lovely light lavender hair felt icky and she needed a fresh change of clothes. Her sweater was carrying far too much nature in it. Hunger might also become an issue, but being an Arachne meant she did not need to feed as often as mammals. A wandering thought slipped through her mind.

Do the ponies have bathhouses?

Of course, such a thing would be wonderful, to relax and get rid of the unwanted stress. Rachnera slowly lifted her gaze to the stars and noted how much different they were than the ones back home. For one thing, they seemed far brighter, the night sky so much darker and inviting. There was very little light pollution to interfere with the glory of the starry sky. Caught in the moment of observing such heavenly beauty, her thoughts went to Kimihto Kurusu. She thought of him and became homesick.

Home. She wanted to go home! She didn’t want to be here. Life had been so much simpler when she was competing with the other girls for Honey’s affection. That was fun!

There was no helping her situation. Rachnera was going to have to find someone on this world to at least point her in the right direction home. If there was a way here, she reasoned, there had to be a way there.

As she thought, she studied the village from her vantage point as the night wore on. Having lived in a heavily populated area filled with steel and concrete was a stark contrast to being surrounded by nature not man-made. This was no public park. This was the living, breathing world untouched by human influence. It was odd, yet also familiar. Equines instead of humans lived in those houses.

Would Centorea have been welcomed here? Rachnera was certain the female centaur would have fit in like the perfect blouse.

“Now wouldn’t that be a story?” she mused.

There was a slight vibration running the length of her silk. Grasping the thread with a hand, she held it to an ear and listened. In half a heartbeat she already knew not only where the would-be stalker was, but had a rough estimate of the size. Her crimson eyes widened in surprise and she turned her human torso around to watch and wait, feeling both amused and bewildered.

Pretending to not notice, Rachnera stared off into the distance, fully aware her skittish little friend had returned. Sure enough, a head poked up through the roof. It was the same little colt from before. He froze after peeking out and finding the Arachne near the chimney and ducked back down. Reappearing, there was an odd glow to his horn, which made Rachnera pay attention and wonder. Something else shrouded in the same glow rose up next to the pony. It was a burlap bag. It settled on the roof and with a hoof, the colt pushed it towards the spider woman. Then, he disappeared.

This little incident caught the Arachne off guard. Confused, she waited a few moments before moving to pick up the bag. She opened it and peered inside. Imagine her surprise when she found bread, cheese, and fruit. Closer examination found the bread to be a bit dry and the fruit bruised. The cheese looked nice. There was not a lot, but it was something to nibble on.

“How sweet!” Rachnera cooed happily, helping herself to the cheese. She nibbled, wondering why the change of heart. Was that magic she had witnessed, or some sort of external show of telekinesis? A few liminals were known to have such abilities, specifically demons. For there to be a visual show of it being used was unheard of, unless it was some sort of over the top ultimate attack, or something just as ridiculous. The inhabitants appeared to have a sense of common decency, even after being tied up.

The thread thrummed through her senses. A pair of eyes were staring up at her through the hole again, wide with both fear and wonder. Rachnera turned slightly towards him, wagging the wedge of cheese at him. “Thank you,” she sang.

The head disappeared again.

She took another bite of cheese, chewed while looking at the hole, swallowed, and went on, “You are a very brave little horse, aren’t you? I can feel your fear through my webs. It’s your heartbeat, it’s beating so fast!” A chuckle filled her throat. She fished up an apple from the bag, examined it while setting the cheese aside. Meat would have been preferable, she sighed.

The little head poked back up. The Arachne paused, then offered it to the colt. “I’ve been alone for a few days. I’d like some company, if I haven’t already scarred you for life,” she told him with a wry grin.

He hesitated, his blue eyes darting from side to side. Swallowing visibly, he pulled himself up out of the hole and seemed to debate his own sanity. His eyes were saucers, blinking rapidly for a few moments when the breezed picked up for a moment. Then he stared at the apple, then at the six eyes of the monster before him.

She beckoned with the apple, otherwise remaining still.

Slow, mincing steps drew the colt nearer and nearer. He let out a nervous whinny. A rumbling sound from the area of his stomach.

“Was this your dinner you gave me?” Rachnera gave a slight frown and a small shake of her head. “You silly thing, I don’t need to eat as much as you think and I certainly don’t want to be seen as someone who takes from a child.” It was nice to meet someone who reminded her —somewhat—in spirit of her Honey.

The colt cocked his head to one side, then the other as she spoke. His own language flowed from his lips, halting and nervous. Then Rachnera felt an odd tingling sensation from the apple in her hand, followed by the same colored aura from the colt’s horn. It was a hue of gold or orange, the Arachne wasn’t sure. Releasing her grip, the fruit moved through the air and in the grasp of the colt’s fetlock. He plopped on his rump and held up his prize with both hooves, smiling and nodding at Rachnera.

“How interesting,” she murmured as he bit into his meal. As he ate, her attention went to the moon. Earlier, she had thought it just another moon, a means of lighting her way in the darkness as she navigated the rooftops of the village, after emerging from the trees when she felt it was safe to do so. Now, with her alertness somewhat relaxed, she addressed this oddity. “Why is there a horse in the moon?” Well, a horse’s head, she noted as she tapped her chin with two fingers.

The colt paused in mid-chew, his ears perking forward. Rachnera pointed at the moon and shrugged.

He said one word, “L’na.”

It took a moment to register in her brain. “Yes, it’s the Moon,” Rachnera chuckled and waved him off, “Nevermind. I’m sure it’s nothing important. Just another strange thing in this strange world.” She helped herself to more cheese. “Humans have a Man in the Moon, so I suppose it would make sense for horses to have a Pony in the Moon.”

After some silence while the pair ate, the Arachne hummed to herself and again addressed the native, “Where are my manners?” She shifted her massive lower torso, taking care to keep her legs away from the colt. “I never did introduce myself.” He stared at her, his apple half finished and one cheek bulging. “My name is Rachnera Arachnera,” she told him, placing her fingers on her chest. She then prompted him with the same hand and a smiling nod. No teeth, though. Showing my beautiful, sharp teeth might send him off in a state of panic.

He mouthed her name and mimed her gestures, his face scrunched in childish thoughtfulness. Pointing a hoof at her, he parroted, “R’ch’ra Ar’ch’ra?” while murdering the pronunciation with glee. He then pointed his hoof at himself (which anatomically should have been impossible) and told her, “R’d’m Sh’m’r.”

The vowels had been replaced by whickers, and Rachnera tried not to laugh at the colt. The poor dear was trying. The colt realized this and stood, babbling in his silly horsey language before disappearing back into the house. The vibrations of his hooves on Rachnera’s webbing described a lot of darting and hopping until they found ground where her threads were not. She made a mental note; first floor, room in the east wing. There was still a lot of house to explore.

The rest of the cheese disappeared in a few swift bites. She bit into the bread. It was a bit dry, but the flavor was pretty decent...for bread. Meat. Fish. Either would have been preferable, but horses don’t eat meat (save for on rare occasions). Cerea was a salad fiend, to say the least.

‘R’d’m Sh’m’r’ returned yet again. Rachnera gave up trying to pronounce his name as it had tumbled through her thoughts like one of her caffeine trips. Giving him a questioning look, he returned it with a beaming smile. He was wearing what appeared to be saddlebags and they appeared to be full.

He spoke, reaching back into his bags and pulling out a worn book. Setting it on the roof, he then turned and reached into the other side, pulling out a roll of papers held together with bits of string. As an afterthought, he added a small candle that flickered to life the moment he placed it next to the book. Rachnera shook her head and shrugged her shoulders.

“I can’t understand you, my dear.” She eyed the candle with a raised brow. I don’t think that’s such a good idea.

He opened the book, still speaking. A little hoof turned the pages, pausing as he peered intently on some, while ignoring most of the others. Looking up at the spider monster, he made an apologetic face as his hoof turned in the air as though trying to simplify whatever it was he was explaining. Thumbing (hoofing?) through more pages, he finally found what he was looking for, making a triumphant ‘Here we are!’ in the form of an odd whicker.

His horn glowed as he stared at the page.

Rachnera felt a tingling in her head, catching her off guard and making her jump. The bread fell from her grasp in her surprise. Her hands went to the sides of her head. There was no pain, but the sensation was so startling and she could only stare at the native, not comprehending. The candle was forgotten.

“What are you doing?” she demanded, angered by this intrusion. The glow of the horn faded away and with it, that odd feeling in the center of her head. “What did you do?”

“Great-grandmother Shimmer’s translation spell,” the colt told her. “Now you can speak and understand Equestrian. Works on all known species. I thought it would work pretty good with you.”

Rachnera’s jaw dropped. “H-how? Spell?” Beneath her skin, she was boiling. “You little idiot!”

The colt became afraid. “What?” he asked in a tiny voice. The words were coming out at an accelerating rate, “I couldn’t ask your permission because you couldn’t understand me and your language sounds really pretty and I’veneverheardanythinglikeit!” His tone had shifted to a mollifying one and he had thrown his hooves over his head as if to ward off an incoming blow.

She could feel a headache coming on. The child did have a point. Rubbing her temples, she let out a slow, heavy breath and closed her eyes.

“All right,” she relented, her fury still in her hissing voice, “I’m fine. I’m just fine!”

“Spider Lady, why are your eyes glowing red? They are really, really red!”

“You made me angry,” she stated, glowering.

His ears went flat against his skull. “I’m...sorry?” Huge, dewey blue eyes stared up at her, pleading. “I didn’t mean to…” A sniffle was heard.

Just like that, her anger dissipated. “It’s not fine, but what’s done is done,” she told him, wondering how in the world this was working. Changing the subject, Rachnera asked, “So, where am I? I’m not from around here. Since I can now understand you, you can tell me.” Crossing her arms over her chest she regarded him, still unhappy, but willing to remain cordial.

He was now her only lifeline to this place, forsaken or otherwise.

He brightened. “This is the village of Shimmerdale! My ancestors established it a really long time ago. I’m Random Shimmer!”

“Rachnera Arachnera. Charmed, I’m sure,” she introduced herself again, flicking her fingers in his direction. “In the future, refrain from using...magic on me without first asking. Agreed?” Being a practical girl, Rachnera was forced into a position she was not at all comfortable with; she would have to make due with what life threw at her. “I am new here and what you just did to me normally does not exist where I come from.”

“Okay.” He shuffled his hooves beneath him. Random looked up at her. “I’ve never seen a monster like you before. It was really fun when you spun me up in your web! I kept on turning around and around and around and even though I was scared, I knew you wouldn’t hurt me!”

She smirked at him, “And why is that?”

“It was like a carnival ride in cotton candy!” He paused in thought. “Well, sort of. I tried eating it, but it wasn’t sweet and I couldn’t spit it out because it was sticky and I mean, there was that part where I thought I was gonna die, but you didn’t eat me and let me go, but I was scared the whole time, but in a good way, you know?”

“You are a strange chatterbox,” Rachnera observed with a roll of her eyes.

“Momma says the same thing,” the colt admitted without shame.

“So, in your opinion, Random-chan,” she said, adding sweet to her voice, “If I were to go into your village and show myself to your friends and neighbors, I’ll have a panic on my hands, won’t I?”

“Yeah!” he cheered. Sobering after a moment, he pondered aloud, “Though the guards might stick you with their spears. I mean, the top part of you is nice and squishy and warm and really, really nice, but the spider part would make them stabby.”

“Gee,” Rachnera deadpanned, “Thanks.”

Well, that was as blunt as it gets. “What about the dogs?”

“Dogs?” Random clucked his tongue. “Oh! Diamond Dogs! They think we stole their pups. They keep coming to the edge of the forest to try and smell for them. We don’t have them, but they keep saying we do. They also raid us from time to time and we think they’ve got some of our ponies.”

“Interesting. I have another question to ask. If you don’t know it, then I would like for you to please tell me who might be able to. Is that all right?”

“Um, o-kay?”

“I am not from this world. I would like to get back to my world. Who would be able to do this?”

Random’s face split into an enormous grin. “Oh, that’s easy! You want to see Princess Celestia! She’s the oldest, wisest, and most beautifulest pony in all the world! She’s the ruler of Equestria and has been a princess for billions of years!”

“Billions of years,” Rachnera laughed out loud. “Wait, did you say billions?”

“Uh-huh!” he nodded his head vigorously, and with a dead serious expression.

So, there was an old nag that ruled this land and supposedly had the wisdom, at least, to be able to point the Arachne in the right direction home. “All right. What would I have to do in order to see her?” She gestured at her spider half. “Not exactly attractive down there in the eyes of many.”

“I think you’re pretty,” Random said with a blush.

“And you’re very sweet to say so,” Rachnera told him as she reached out and patted him on the head. “But not everyone is as tolerant as you.”

“Princess Celestia says that everypoony should be friends. At least, that’s what my sister wrote in the last letter I got from her. She’s the personal student of the princess,” Random went on, “and she always sends me some sweets from Canterlot, too! Her name is Sunset and she’s the bestest sister in the world!”

“I see. Is this house your ancestral home?”

“Yep! Nightmare Moon burned it down a long time ago because my great-great-great-great,—” he paused, pawing the floor and counting as he did so. “—well, lots of greats, but my way-back grandpa told Nightmare Moon where to stick it when she demanded he take her side against Princess Celestia.”

“And you never fixed it up?”

Random shook his head. “Momma says we can’t because it was touched by bad magic and that magic never goes away. I can feel it. It’s not bad magic, but it feels sad and lonely. I try to make it feel better. I don’t know if what I do helps, but I like to think it does. I still like to explore it. I like to imagine what it was like to live here sometimes. Can I ask you some questions? I mean, you’ve asked me lots of questions. Fair is fair, right?”

Rachnera tittered, covering her mouth out of politeness. “You have a way of making angry feelings melt away, you know that? Very well, you may ask your questions. We have all night, it seems. It’s a bit past your bedtime, don’t you think?”

Shrugging his little shoulders, the colt replied, “What Momma doesn’t know, she can’t get mad about, right?”

“I think I’m going to like you, Random-chan.”

“We’re friends, now! Oh! First question!” He untied the rolled up paper and fished out a pencil from his bags. “What kind of monster are you?”

“Arachne. I’m what’s called a liminal. I’m part human-part spider.”

There was the sound of scribbling on paper. “What’s a human?”

She indicated her top half. “This part of my body is considered humanoid. That is, very much like the body of a full human.”

“So,” he drew out slowly as he stared at her breasts, “A hairless monkey?”

“Close enough,” she chuckled, not at all bothered at his staring. Some things a girl gets used to, even expects from males. Puberty was a curse for those inflicted with it, and boundless amusement for others who survived the process.

“Does that make you a spider monkey?”

“In a way, though that is actually a unique species of monkey on my world.”

Random made a small ‘o’ with his mouth. “Wow! I’d like to visit your world. What’s it like?”

Rachnera shrugged. “Crowded. Lots of cities. Lots of humans. Billions of them, actually.”

His eyes went round. Again. It seemed to be an ongoing thing with the colt. “Billions?” he asked in disbelief.

“Billions,” she assured him. “Liminals such as myself are a very minor part of the overall population, but we are learning to coexist peacefully with humans. It is necessary for survival.”

“Aren’t there any forests or places that don’t have humans in them?”

“Of course! There’s still a lot about my world that I don’t know about or understand,” she admitted.

“Oh!” Random stood up and peered over the roof at the village. “You should meet Momma.”

“Would that be a good idea? Remember, spider parts,” Rachnera reminded him, booping the colt on the snout with a finger.

“She’s educated,” he assured the Arachne with a toothy grin. “It might take a minute, but she’ll come around when you convince her you’re not going to web up the whole town and eat everypony. You wouldn’t do that, because we’re friends now and friends don’t web other friend’s friends and eat them.”

She took a moment to digest that mess of logic. “You’ve got me there,” she said, putting her hands up in mock surrender. “I am curious as to what is going on around here. Since I’m new around here, what’s to keep the troubles going on here from being dropped on my shoulders?”

Random pondered this for a moment, his hoof tapping his chin. “Maybe..,” he began, his little face scrunching as he thought, “maybe if I told Momma you are lost and want to earn her trust? Maybe? I don’t know.”

Suddenly, they were bathed in brilliant, blinding light.

“HALT IN THE NAME OF PRINCESS CELESTIA!” bellowed a voice from above.

“I’m not exactly moving!” shouted Rachnera as she threw up an arm to block the light from her eyes.

“RANDOM RHUBARB SHIMMER, JUST WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING OUT HERE AT THIS HOUR AND WITH THIS…THING?”

Random gave a sheepish smile to the light. “Um, hi, Momma? Am I grounded? I’m grounded.” To Rachnera, he whispered loudly, “I’m sooo grounded.”

Author's Note

So...Random Rhubarb Shimmer.

Did anyone consult Sunset on this?

*peeks at AU tag*

Oh, God, what have I done?

Do you think Rachnera could throw a bola? Discuss in the comments below!