When he recognized the agitated sounds of a spider disturbed from its feeding, King Thranduil ceased all motion and stood as still as a deer in the wood.  He could see nothing in the utter darkness of the unlight that surrounded him, but his keen ears listened intently for even the slightest whisper of the creature’s multi-legged progress through the cavern or along the walls.  When he dared to breathe again, he did so very slowly and made every effort not to make any sound that could be heard by the monstrous arachnid.  Cautiously he took one silent step backward.  He carefully placed his booted foot upon the stone path behind him and then he slowly shifted his weight onto the ball of his foot.

          After several seconds had elapsed without any movement from the spider, the Elven King chanced another backward pace.  He was about to attempt a third when a faint glimmer of light appeared across the cavern and the low murmur of several voices reached his ears.  He instantly froze; if he could hear these voices then so could the spider, and as he feared, frenzied and renewed scrabbling sounds arose from a point very close to his current position as the great beast hurtled toward the intrusive newcomers.  He called out to the unknown voices and to his utter amazement heard his name being called by a voice that sounded very much like the Dúnadan ranger.

          As the light began to grow brighter within the cavern, he could eventually see that it was indeed the young ranger and the meddlesome wizard who were approaching through the darkness.  Also with them was a tall, exotic woman of ancient age that he surmised must be the fabled Drughu witch-woman.   His shouted warning however, did little to forestall the spider’s attack upon them and swiftly drawing his sword, he ran toward the others as the huge beast leapt from her glistening web and made straight for the young ranger.

          Strider threw a protective forearm across Tharcuru’s body and pushed her back against the cavern wall and out of the way of the spider’s leap.  Then he dove to the ground beneath the arachnid’s flying body and rolled completely under the great beast and was able to spring up behind the creature as he landed on his feet on the opposite side of the pathway.  He held his sword in a two-handed grip to attain greater strength and power and then quickly swung the weapon in an arching curve.  As he completed the maneuver, the momentum turned him around and about and the blade easily sliced through two of the spider’s hairy back legs.  The black creature shrieked with pain and swung her great body about to face her attacker, ignoring the vile gore that poured from her severed limbs.  Her multi-faceted eyes fixed upon Strider and her horrendous mouth opened wide.

          King Thranduil reached the ranger first and hastily yanked him aside just before a stream of foul, poisonous venom spewed from the spider’s gaping maw and splattered the rock pathway where the young human had been standing only moments before.  The Elf Lord then lunged forward, thrusting his sword at the beast’s bloated body, but she quickly scurried out of reach and prepared for her next assault.  Strider moved toward the spider and lifted his sword to strike her anew, but the dark, agile creature rose upward upon her silken thread and then hovered above them safe and well out of reach.

          Mithrandir hurried forward bearing his illuminated staff and shouted to the two warriors.  “Quickly!  Keep within the light from my staff.  There are others coming!”

          Strider had been so absorbed with the giant creature that he had not noticed the approach of the remaining members of her nest.  Now he anxiously looked about him and could see hordes of smaller spiders scurrying toward them in a massive, undulating black wave.

          ‘You need fire!’ Legolas’ voice shouted within his head.  ‘You must burn them out!  Burn the web!’  

          “Gandalf!” Strider yelled to the wizard.  “We need fire to repel them!”

          The grey wizard nodded his understanding and turned to face the woman.  “Hold fast to my staff, Tharcuru.  The light will protect you.”

          Her silver head gave the slightest nod as she grasped the wooden staff in both hands and stood behind the wizard, firm and resolute.  As Mithrandir tossed Glamdring from his right hand to his left, Strider thought he spied the barest glimpse of a mithril ring upon his hand and then it was gone.  Instead a ball of fire blazed within the wizard’s palm, yet obviously caused him no pain.  Mithrandir hurled the fiery orb toward the huge glittering web that hung suspended from the cavern ceiling.  Although securely attached to the walls by long, silky ropes, the instant the flaming ball struck the silvered fibers of Ulkûrzlûb’s intricate work of weaving and design, the tenuous filaments went up in flames and the delicate webbing was transformed into a blazing inferno.

          King Thranduil and Strider shrank back away from the heat of the flames, arms raised before their faces and watched as the smaller spiders fled before the raging fires and scurried back into the darkness of the cavern’s cracks and crevices.   Ulkûrzlûb, however, was not so intimidated.  The vile monster spit and hissed her rage and skittered away from the flames, moving to an area of the cave that was out of the fire’s reach.  She rotated her ponderous body upon her dangling spider’s thread and hung suspended above the cave, glaring down at her enemies below.

          Elf, wizard, and man stared upward at the hanging behemoth, their swords raised and poised for battle.  The spider did not hesitate long before launching a new attack.  Ulkûrzlûb flung her body across the chamber and sailed over the heads of Mithrandir and Thranduil.  The Istari and Elf Lord watched transfixed as the spider hurtled over them and landed squarely atop Strider.  Even though the ranger had seen the beast coming for him and had tried to back away, he was hampered when his foot slid across the top of a stone slick with venom and he lost his balance.  Tumbling backward, he landed heavily upon his back and the huge spider was on top of him in a matter of seconds.

          Her fiercely clacking mandibles reached toward Strider’s face and throat and he smacked the side of the beast’s head with a hard fist, but it did little to deter the creature from diving toward his head.  The spider opened her mouth wide, preparing to douse the human with her caustic saliva and then sink her chitinous jaws into the ranger’s flesh.  Strider frantically tried to lift his sword but his arm was caught at an awkward angle and he could not gain the leverage needed to raise the weapon.  As the spider’s body lowered closer, Strider turned his head away and tried to roll out from under the beast, but several of her remaining legs were pinning his body to the ground and he was trapped beneath her.

          As the monstrous arachnid struck, her slavering jaws met Elven metal instead of flesh as King Thranduil’s sword cut through her face and sheared away half of her lower mandible.  Gouts of foul, black blood and steaming acid splashed down upon Strider as the spider rose upward in pain and fury.  Released from the pinioning legs, Strider clasped his sword and leapt to his feet.  He rushed beneath the spider’s upturned thorax and shoved his sword upward, plunging the weapon deep into the creature’s swollen belly.   The Evil Daughter’s deafening scream echoed off the stones of the lofty cavern with a piercing sound wave that caused all within the confines of the cave to wince as the excruciating shriek assaulted their eardrums.  Violent death agonies shook the spider’s huge black body as gore and noxious fluids gushed from the sword wound, and then she crashed down upon the rocks of the cavern floor in a withered, twisted heap.  Strider leapt back out of the way as the black shell of her lifeless body landed on the stones in front of his feet.

          Panting and gasping for breath and drenched with blood, Strider wearily leaned against the wall of the cave and wiped the reeking gore off his face with the sleeve of his tunic.

          And you face these monsters on a daily basis? he thought to Legolas.  Going on a spider hunt has a whole new meaning for me.

          A soft, nervous laugh echoed within Strider’s mind.  ‘Well, in truth, this is the largest one I’ve ever seen.  I am grateful it is dead.’

          A darkening spot on the ranger’s upper thigh began to hiss and steam as the acid from the spider’s spittle started to burn through the heavy material of his trousers.   Strider slapped at the smoking cloth, trying to keep the corrosive substance from reaching his skin.  King Thranduil swiftly came to the young human’s aid and, as he replaced his sword within its scabbard, he shouted to the ranger.

          “You must douse it with dirt.  Quickly!”   The Elven King scooped up a handful of loose soil and grit from the cavern floor and hastily rubbed it over Strider’s leg, covering the spider’s caustic saliva with the dirt.   Within minutes the acid was neutralized and the hole in his trouser leg grew no wider.

          Satisfied, the king rose up and diligently brushed the dirt and grim from off his hands.  His golden head then nodded in the direction of the silver-haired woman who was approaching them, the wizard beside her.

          “I see you have found the witch,” he stated.

          Strider glanced up, shaking sweat-damp hair from his brow.  He swiftly and efficiently wiped the blade of his sword against his already soiled tunic and then returned it to its sheath.

          “Aye,” he replied to the king.  “And Legolas as well.”

           “Legolas?!” the king cried; his voice was over loud in the quiet of the cavern.  “I just saw my son walking through the dungeons with several mindless Dale Men following behind him like cattle.”  He paused and his hard, stern gaze traveled back into the dark caverns.  “But it was not Legolas,” his voice lowered and his head shook in denial.  “It was not my son.”

          “You are correct, Thranduil,” Mithrandir spoke up as he came upon the two.  “It was not your son.  The energy and spirit that constitutes the soul of Legolas is safely residing within young Strider.”

          “WHAT!?” Thranduil roared.

          ‘This will not go well,’ remarked Legolas’ voice and Strider grimaced, knowing all too well the Sindarin king’s thorny temperament.

          “It is much too complicated to explain just now, majesty,” said Strider in a vain attempt to dissuade the Elven Lord from asking too many pertinent questions.  “But believe me, he is inside me and he is unharmed.”  He paused.  “We just have to get him back into his own body somehow.”

          Thranduil took several purposeful steps forward and peered closely into Strider’s face, searching the young man’s silver eyes as if he expected to see his son’s face looking back from within them.  Strider pulled back and away from the king’s intense stare, and tried to extricate himself from the uncomfortable scrutiny of those sharp blue eyes.  The king finally backed away and Strider gratefully stepped around and behind the wizard and Tharcuru. 

          The Elven King squared his regal shoulders and his sculpted face turned hard and imperious.   His fierce blue-eyed stare traveled from Mithrandir to the Drughu Woman and then back to Strider and a dangerous twist came to his lips.

          “Suppose you take the time to explain to me just exactly what has happened to my son,” he curtly remarked.  His formidable glare made it quite plain to each one of them that he expected to be obeyed.

          Mithrandir fearlessly stepped forward and placed a firm hand upon the king’s shoulder and taking a strong hold of his forearm with the other, turned the Elf Lord toward the darkness of the deeper tunnels within the palace underground.

          “Perhaps I can explain as we move along,” the wizard smoothly replied.  “Our time runs short, majesty.  Ulkûrzlûb’s death screams will have rung throughout these warrens by now and our presence here within these tunnels may no longer be undetected.   We must find the Nameless Thing before It becomes aware of our true intent here.  It is our plan to cast It back into the abyss from whence it came and forever bar Its return to this world.  But before we can accomplish this task we must see that It does not destroy your son’s body or he can never return to it.”  He walked the Elven King farther down the dark tunnel.  “And we must do it quickly.”

          Thranduil balked, easily extracting his arm from the wizard’s grasp and he gave the old Istari an annoyed scowl.  “I have already sealed over the well where It first emerged.  It would take much too long to have it re-opened.”

          “Then we will need to find a similar shaft that will serve our purpose,” Mithrandir replied.  “Do you know of any such alternative within these caves?”

          As the wizard gently coerced the king down the dark corridors, the Elf Lord nodded.   “Yes, there is a volcanic shaft beneath the older palace foundations that was used for ventilation and heat when the palace was first carved from the stone.  After additions were completed and the palace refurbished, it was abandoned; but I do not believe it was ever capped off.”

          “Excellent,” murmured the wizard.  “Can you show us this place?”

          “Of course,” the king replied and then he abruptly halted in front of the Istari.  “But you have not answered my questions concerning my son.”

          Before Mithrandir could reply, Strider came up alongside the king and wizard and anxiously glanced down the tunnel behind them.  “We must be on our guard.  Legolas spoke of a troll and goblins lurking within these warrens.”

          “You need not worry about the troll,” Thranduil dispassionately remarked.  “It is dead.”

          And as if to verify his words, the headless body of the Olog-hai suddenly came into view.  The halo of light provided by Mithrandir’s staff swept across the path before them and shone down upon the mountainous form.  Strider grimaced as the putrefying stench of the troll’s corpse reached his nose.  The Elf Lord casually stepped around the carcass and indicated an obscure tunnel that was barely visible behind a large jumble of boulders and stones.  Recently dislodged by the strange and unexpected earth tremor that earlier shook the dungeons and lower tunnels, the rocks effectively hid the little traveled passageway.

          “The abandoned shaft is down here.”

          The king gestured toward the little used opening and the three carefully followed him into the half-hidden passage.  As Strider entered the tunnel, he gave the dark pathway behind them one last glance but saw nothing to indicate that they had been discovered or were being followed.  Yet he could faintly hear guttural snorts and growls echoing throughout the caverns that could only mean orcs were close by; how many he could not tell.  He stepped into the new tunnel and hastened his pace to catch up with the others as they made their way through the darkness ahead of him.  

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          The Nameless Thing seethed with rage.  It had heard the dying screams of the Evil Daughter echo throughout the underground caverns and then hundreds of her spider brood scurried through the darkness and back into their burrows.  It could feel their fear and It loathed and despised their weakness.  Now It ranted with frustration and unspent anger.  Its control of these simple creatures was rapidly slipping away.  Its own core energy had somehow faded and weakened.  The body It had so desired was now depleted and would no longer function to Its satisfaction, yet It could not understand how or why this had occurred; nor could It comprehend why Its thoughts were no longer able to detect the danger It knew was coming.

          As It had moved this stolen body through the tunnels, It felt the limbs shake, stagger, and stumble.  Several times the shell had collapsed and fallen to the ground and the last time the body had buckled beneath It, It had not been able to raise it again.  The two-legged beings It took from the dungeon cell had to be summoned to carry the body back to Its haven and it was some time before It could get the shell to move once again.  Yet even those mindless creatures were no longer totally within Its control and had lapsed back into their inane babbling and endless gibberish.  It took more and more of Its power to force them to do Its will.

          And now It raged anew; It needed to feed.  The evil of Its essence must be restored and Its force and power returned, but it was trapped within this useless body.  It must find another.