A Game of Chi Book III: A Sword of Dust

Chapter 13: Cragger II

CRAGGER

"Wake up, worms!" Cragger woke up with a start, opening his eyes. "Didn't you hear me? I said wake up, worms!" The crocodile sat up and rubbed his one exposed eye, looking at his surroundings. On the bed next to him, Rogon was also waking up, while the other slaves around him were grumbling and grudgingly getting out of bed. Sparacon was glowering in the doorway, his extra legs pointing at the slaves with prejudice. "No more sleep for you, worms!" Cragger closed his eyes as he stretched and yawned, only to be hit in the stomach by one of Sparacon's spindly limbs. "Did I say you could take more time, worm?" he demanded. Cragger snarled and considered fighting back, but he knew Sparacon would easily beat and humiliate him, if not worse. Keeping his thoughts to himself, Cragger got out of bed and saw that nearly everyone else had already gotten out and were lining up outside, where several other spiders were preparing to weave webby chains for them. Rogon was still inside, slowly making his way to the others. Satisfied that Cragger was following suit, Sparacon returned outside and began creating the webs with his extra limbs. "It's best to just stay quiet and do as they say, Crag," Rogon advised quietly. "They don't beat you too much if you work."

"Too much?" Cragger repeated. "They still do?" Rogon shrugged as he stepped outside. "They usually whip us while we work, even if we're doing well. But that's normal. Don't do anything crazy, and you'll be alright." What the hell kind of system is this? Cragger thought angrily. Say what you will about Crooler, but she'd never do this. She'd never enslave people and work them like this. Right?

Cragger stepped into line behind Rogon and mimicked what the others were doing, lifting his arms so his waist was exposed. He winced as the spiders' spindly legs brushed against his torso as they covered it with sticky, adhesive chains. I hate how this feels, Cragger thought, fighting the urge to tear them off. Not that it'd work, he admitted. Since he was at the end of the line, his ring of webs was thicker than Rogon's and those in front of him, and it was a little harder to breathe. How the hell can I work if I can't even breathe properly? Cragger wondered. These spiders don't know what they're doing. Still, he found himself impressed as Sparacon materialized a flail made out of his webs and cracked it in the air above their heads. "Worms!" Sparacon shouted. "Queen Spinlyn has important guests arriving in her manor later today, so you will all be put to work to ensure this place is as perfect as possible. So today, you will work until the guests arrive. Then, you will head into the dome and stand on guard for the queen as they come in." Sparacon walked by the line of slaves, eyeing each one intently. "If any one of you behaves in a way that reflects badly on the queen, or angers her guests, I will personally pierce your eyeballs — or eyeball —" he added, looking at Cragger, "with my legs. Understood?"

"Yes, sir!" the slaves said in unison, but Cragger remained silent. Suddenly, he heard the crack of the whip and a searing pain on his back, and he cried out in pain, falling to his knees. "Did I give you permission to fall, worm?" Sparacon demanded. "No," Cragger said, clambering back to his feet. "Then do you understand?" Sparacon's face was right next to Cragger's, his fangs close to Cragger's good eye. "Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir," Cragger replied, forcing himself to be calm. "Good. And don't you forget it," the spider warned. "Lead the labourers to the construction site," Sparacon commanded the other spiders. "They'll work there until midday." Cragger continued glowering at Sparacon before feeling a sudden pull at his waist. The line of slaves had begun moving forward, with Rogon's large strides pulling Cragger along. Sighing in frustration and desperation, Cragger swallowed his pride and followed the others to their destination.

They walked past several other domes, some fully-constructed and some not. To Cragger, they seemed identical, but Spinlyn's guards must have memorized the layout of her manor, because they expertly navigated the line of slaves through the maze of domes. However, just outside one not too far from the central dome, Cragger spotted Spinlyn herself scuttling towards them, a pink parasol in hand to shield her from the harsh sunlight of the Web. "Sparacon, dear," she crooned, arriving in front of them. "Yes, Your Grace?" he replied, bowing low. "I'd like to take two of our labourers with me to the central dome," she said. "Is that alright? I trust their help in construction won't be missed too greatly."