Just across the room I could see the faint glow of a portal in the arch of the outside doorway. Imbedded in the wall beside the door was a steel cable from which dangled several cheap tin whistles on strings. Obviously, the whistles could open the portal, and the portal could take us away from Rivi's madness; the only problem was that the floor between us and the exit now sloped upward at an angle of about sixty degrees.

Without hesitation, Kiripao pushed himself away from the door at our backs. His hands and feet were bare; although the floor was too smooth to offer convenient handholds, he still managed to pull himself up to the cable and seize one of the whistles.

«All right,» Yasmin called, «just hold onto the cable and lower a rope…»

But Kiripao had other ideas. Sticking the whistle in his mouth and blowing loudly, he threw himself directly at the portal.

It flickered open giving a glimpse of somber gray skies clotted with forbidding black clouds; then it winked shut again.

«Sodding berk!» Miriam shouted at the vanished Kiripao.

«Now, now,» Hezekiah told her, «he's a Cipher. He probably decided to rush ahead and make sure the coast was clear.»

«Either that,» Miriam muttered, «or he wanted to give us the laugh before the damned Spider drops completely down a hole.»

«Problems, darlings?» The smirking image of Rivi flickered into existence once more, standing at an absurd slant in the middle of the room. «Abandoned by your wee friend?»

«He's just scouting ahead,» I snapped, then turned my attention toward taking off my boots. The slope was sharp, but I could still climb up to the door barefoot, provided the Spider didn't tilt anymore. I couldn't participate in the conversation anyway – Yasmin and Miriam wouldn't have let me get a word in edgewise, because they were too busy pouring curses on Rivi's head. Rather intriguing curses I might add… I certainly wanted to find out what Yasmin meant by «that sneaky trick with the neckerchief.»

By the time I was ready to climb, Hezekiah had pulled out a rope from his own knapsack. «This'll be good and sturdy,» he said as he handed the rope to me. «Uncle Toby made it himself.»

«Wonderful,» I growled. But perhaps my surge of annoyance at the mention of Uncle Toby had its positive side – it spurred me up the incline with a driving ferocity that brought me to the steel cable in record time. Once I had an arm safely wrapped around the cord, I set about fastening the rope for the others to climb.

«This is getting irksome,» Rivi's image said to me as I let the rope tumble across the slanted floor. «Did you know, darling, that all this time I've been standing in one of the Spider's other control rooms?»

The image bent over, as if Rivi was reaching toward something. Then, suddenly, the Spider careened wildly to one side, emitting a monstrous groan of protesting metal. Through the glassed-in walls of the room, I saw the next Spider leg to the right snap as viciously as a bullwhip, then come hurtling toward our own leg… as if one leg of the Spider was attacking the next. By my estimation, the incoming leg would hit our own leg about halfway down its length. There was nothing I could do but close my eyes and wait for impact.

When the collision came, it rattled my teeth like a punch in the mouth. Our leg weathered the blow rather well… by which I mean it didn't break clean away. After a single bone-shaking shudder, our leg steadied back in position. Even before the vibrations had begun to die away, Yasmin was already climbing the rope, with Wheezle's arms clasped around her neck.

«You were lucky, darlings,» Rivi's projection said. «The legs aren't really designed to mount such attacks. Then again, they aren't designed to withstand them either. A pity I can't move your own wee leg to shake you off… but that's because you destroyed the appropriate engine room. Oh well, I'll make do.»

The attacking leg swept back for another strike. As Yasmin reached me, I shoved a whistle into her mouth and shouted, «Go! Go!»

«Thanks for the advice, Britlin,» she muttered, despite the whistle held in her teeth. «I would never have thought of it myself.» And then she was blowing on the whistle and swinging her legs toward the portal. As it winked open, I caught a whiff of dank and fetid air; then Yasmin and Wheezle were gone.

Miriam and Hezekiah rushed through immediately after her, taking advantage of the few seconds that the portal remained open. Rivi screeched in fury as the Clueless boy, still carrying the white grinder, disappeared through the gate. A split-second later, the portal winked closed, putting the grinder finally out of Rivi's hands.

I wished I could aim some devastating taunt in Rivi's direction; but I had already stuffed a whistle into my mouth, and was busy shoveling the other whistles into my pockets. Why make it easy for Rivi to pursue us? Let her find her own whistle.

But I had momentarily forgotten the Spider leg that was hurtling in on a collision course. A leg like that doesn't move quickly; but once it is aimed, nothing can stop it.

Like a battering ram it slammed home again, and this time the impact nearly knocked me free from my grip on the steel cable. I heard a crunch, a snap… and then I could feel myself in freefall, as my half of this Spider's leg broke off and plunged toward the surface. Maybe the dust below would cushion the crash, but I didn't feel in a gambling mood. Blowing a piercing blast on the whistle in my mouth, I hurled myself through the waiting portal.

Here's a tip for any would-be bloods who may be reading this memoir: try not to jump out of an unfamiliar portal while blowing a whistle loud enough to wake the dead. Stealth is better… trust me.

Since I had swung myself through the portal feet first, I emerged the same way, landing flat on my back in mud and still blasting away on the whistle. Yasmin leaned over me, snatched the whistle from my mouth, and hissed a desperate, «Shh!» I shushed with all due haste; and since I expected that dragging myself out of the muck would be a noisy process, I simply lay where I was, hoping I had not dropped into quicksand.

Or a corrosive bog.

Or into the path of ravenous army ants.

All of which seemed distinct possibilities, since I didn't know where the sod I was.

My view of the world was restricted to a number of tree branches crisscrossing close overhead – gnarled and twisted branches of mist-slick wood, wreathed with dagger-like leaves. All the branches hung heavily with streamers of frosty green moss, like pale fat boa constrictors lying well-fed in the trees and letting their tails dangle.

The cool air smelled of damp-rot, strong and cloying… the normal smell of a swamp, of course, but more intense than any natural swamp I'd visited. There was nothing placid in this swamp's aura of decay, no calm decomposition of fallen leaves into rich brown muck – I had a hunch that putrefaction here would be swift and aggressive, enough to rot the boots off your feet if you stood still too long.

When I thought about it, that wasn't such an unappealing prospect: having my clothes decay off my body would be an interesting sensation, if not downright titillating. But I had no time to wait for the rot to set in, because somewhere off to my right, Hezekiah whispered, «They're coming this way.»

«They heard the piking whistles,» Miriam glowered.

«If I could just cast a spell —» Wheezle began, but Yasmin cut him off immediately.

«No spells. We're covered with dust.»

«Then we must fight.» That last voice was Kiripao's… no surprise. Our elven monk was beginning to worry me; impulsiveness was one thing, but his constant eagerness to plunge into battle would spell trouble if we couldn't keep him in check. I had to wonder what religious order Kiripao belonged to – the monks I'd met before Kiripao had all conducted themselves with delicate restraint, fighting only when circumstances left no other choice. They certainly didn't leap into combat without the slightest attempt at parlay.