The spider that slowly lowered itself from an overhanging branch to the clearing was twice Rohan’s height and many times his width. As its eight legs--each as thick as a sapling and over ten feet long--stabbed into the ground, the brown-eyed woman screamed. The spider’s body was a glossy black with a red deathshead on its abdomen, as if to proclaim to all the world that it was death personified.

Its fangs dripped a clear fluid that, when it made contact with the grass, it blackened and smoked. There was a clicking sound as those fangs moved in and out, and a thin hiss like steam from a kettle was released from its mouth. The spider’s eyes--there were eight of them pressed together in the center of its head--reflected back Rohan and Lightbringer. He knew that it was angry because he was taking its prey. Or attempting to, in any event.