Taryn stared across the dramatic landscape. Hurricane gales whipped sand and debris around her. The yawning chasm of the Grand Canyon rugged at her hooves as if drawing her over the steep sides towards the bottom hundreds of feet below. But ominously, a smoky gray horizon threatened the small party as they stood at the head of the trail that led down the wall of the canyon and bridges the mighty Colorado River and up the far side.

       “I don’t think we should go down!” Teresa said. “The waters could rise while we are down there from the storm!”

       “It’s a risk.” Bengal agreed. “But if the storm breaks, then we might not be able to find the grotto for days, and we are running out of time. I got word today that a small town near here was overrun by battling tarantulas and scorpions. Some fifty people were forced to flee in seconds after their arrival. Some were hospitalized with numerous bites and stings. Two dead.” He added. “A grandfather and his son in law, rescuing their granddaughter and their neighbors, succumbed to their injuries.”

       Taryn’s face tightened. She sent a quick prayer to the spirits to guide them home and set her sight downward.

       “We go.” She decided. “The storm is a sign of the looming battle. When it breaks, we know battle is joined between the titans, and our problems become greater.”

       The party set off. The burros complained loudly and balked at the edge, but the three centaurs expertly herded them along the narrow trail and the trip down went quite smoothly.

       Taryn found herself walking with the burros carrying Little Cloud and Melissa. A tense cloud hung over the two sisters, which Taryn noticed right away when the two were waved through the cordon and brought to see them in the camp. Little Cloud dressed in native dress and wore beads in her hair and seemed to be in awe of Taryn when she greeted them courteously in their own tongue. Melissa, on the other hand…

       Melissa wore a Grateful Dead t-shirt, rugged hiker boots that looked worn almost down to the soles, and the lank look of an eco fanatic who thought baths were a sin.
Taryn gave a mental shrug: it took all kinds to make a world, she told herself. All the same, she resolved to keep a close watch on the girl.
     They slowly made their way down the blood red walls of the canyon, the sides awash with flashes of light from the gathering storm. The little hairs on Taryn’s arms stood straight out. She could feel the danger in the air.

       This was stupid, she knew that. Going into a canyon in the middle of a rain storm, there were so many things that were likely to go wrong, probably fatally. But some sixth sense told her that she couldn’t wait, they had to do this now.
     Sylvie plodded along just beside her. Good old Sylvie. She would be there even if she had suggested a stroll through the very bowels of hell and kicking the devil in the ass twice for fun.
     “Melissa, how much further do we have to travel until we reach the site?” Taryn asked.

       Melissa looked around, trying to match the terrain to her memory. They had not gone far from the trail head on the side of the cliffs.
“I don’t think it will be much further.” She said, “We should see it in another bend or so. It’s a small box canyon that set off to the side that's hard to see. And the reason it’s hard to see is because the opening is so narrow. I’m not sure if the centaurs or the burros will fit through. For that matter, I don’t think many of the big guys will fit through either. But it’s the only spot I know of that at least comes close to your description.” She shrugged.

       Taryn nodded. It sounded like their best bet, and the good feeling continued.

       They traveled around a slight ripple or bend in the canyon walls and there on the reverse side, was a narrow slot opening perfectly camouflaged. Unless you knew exactly where to look you would easily miss it.

       “See. I told you it was there.” she said smugly. “And I don't know how you are going to get the centaurs to fit: they're too bloody big!”

       Taryn hesitated. She could see Melissa's point. Only the smallest members of the party would be able to fit through and not without an effort either. How could the rest of the party get through?

       That she had to she didn't doubt: the feeling of rightness inside her told her so. Perhaps she could help Sylvie move the smaller rocks out of the way and they could see how...hang on a minute.

       Taryn paused as a new thought occurred to her. She was magic, the grotto they were going too was supposedly magic, and the creatures they were going to face were certainly magic. Perhaps that was the clue.

       She stood in front of the canyon wall. The others fell silent. Melissa and Little Cloud stared, jaws dropping as Taryn's spear lit up like the beacon of a lighthouse. Chanting in the tongue of the First Peoples, she called upon the door to open.

       There came the sound of cracking stone and part of the canyon wall groaned as the wall split and the rocks came tumbling down, crumbling into sand as they struck the ground. Where there had been only a narrow opening there was now a yawning opening large enough for two of them to ride abreast.

       Before the shocked humans could react, both Taryn and Sylvie walked forward together. A chill blue light flickered to life from Taryn’s spear head, crackling along the keen edge like St. Elmo’s fire. Sylvia’s weapon became menacing, a crouching predator about to strike. The others stirred uneasily; they felt the change in Sylvia’s weapon.

       “Get ready.” Bengal ordered his men. “We are going into battle now. Mathers, escort the civilians to safety.”

       “Right boss.” one of the security men said.

       Taryn began to get a strange feeling, a feeling of impending disaster.

       “No, wait!” She cried. Not quite too late, it turned out.

       A rolling, grinding noise reached their ears. Melissa and Little Cloud turned white as sheets.

       “Flash Flood!” They gasped.

       “Quickly! Into the Grotto!” Taryn commanded.

       Without hesitation the others darted into the opening. As Taryn watched with a strange detachment, she saw far up the canyon a surge of water rise rapidly from its bed, bringing with it hundreds of grinding boulders and splinters of wood.

       Darting in herself she turned and chanted another spell. Lost in the noise of the oncoming flood, the sealing of the canyon from the main channel appeared silent. Unlike before, the door closed completely. Dimly she heard the wave strike the rock and saw the trembling stone as debris struck the door.

       Taryn took a deep breath. They were locked in now, she knew. Strangely, the thought comforted her.

       “We have now only one choice.” She said, walking to the head of the company. Beside her Sylvie stood with rifle ready and her securing flaps unsnapped to allow easy access to her pistols.

       “We must go to the grotto and face the creatures within.” Taryn looked at each face. “Be careful. These creatures are big and nasty, and are not likely to want to speak with strangers on their soil. We will be in danger all the while we are here. Do not stray, even if you feel you must investigate. Resist the urge, for spells and trickery shall be used to lure you away. Alone, you will certainly fall.”

       Her warning given, she lifted her spear high. The blade shone with a pale light giving the company something to focus on in the dim twilight of the canyon.

       The path they followed was difficult and incredibly dangerous. Huge loose rocks from the canyon walls littered the floor, making stepping dangerous. Several times her hooves slipped on the loose surface and threatened to drop her into the dry stream bed that had carved this place over uncounted millennia. The very walls around them felt immensely old, stern sentinels that had guarded over this place since the beginning of time.

       Taryn lost track of time in the canyon. She felt like she had been wandering forever in that cold dusty place. Realistically, she could not have been struggling forward for more than a couple of hours and probably had gone no more than two or three miles over the loose stones and massive boulders that choked the passage when the red stone walls on right and left of the company suddenly opened up into a grotto more than two hundred paces across and arching high over their heads into an almost cave-like place. Taryn blinked in the painful shaft of light that speared down from the ceiling, which she could make out was partially open to the sky. The largest space was above the exact center of the grotto and shone down on a dead tree. To Taryn, the place looked as if the rock had turned to water and had flowed around a bubble of air before hardening into what lay before her. It was both incredibly beautiful, and dangerous.

       The tree in the center stood like twisted corpse, pale and dead. No water or spring burbled at its roots, instead only fine-grain sand could be seen.

       “The spring has dried up.” She muttered.

       Sylvie nodded. Her expression was tense as she probed the dark nooks with her rifle trained.

       Looking around Taryn could see that they had come to the place of her dream. Now, if only there would come…

       The sound of splintering and grinding, like an avalanche on the mountain peak in high summer, roared on their right.

       Spinning, the company beheld the mammoth legs of a tarantula, colored and shaped like the stone of the wall, flex and shift. Taryn felt the power in the beast grow as the bright warm sandstone colors drained away revealing jet black hair save where the joints were banded in blood red. As the legs moved aside a hideous face was revealed: two gargantuan pedipalps, strong enough to crush a car, flicked back and forth so fast the air boomed and echoed in the cavern. Eight dark eyes the size of dinner plates glared evilly at them, filled with a hunger and intelligence as old as the world.

       Even as she watched, it lashed out with one of its legs, snagging one of the soldiers. Before it could draw the man into its maw a single gunshot rang out. The leg blew apart as if it had been hit by a cannonball.

       Sylvie stood nearby, smoke billowing from the muzzle of her rifle. Taryn caught a blurred motion and she aimed the rifle again, this time at the creature’s head.

       “That one’s a warning shot.” She said sweetly. “The next round drills your brains.”

       The arachnid seemed stunned by the carnage inflicted on it. Then, with a sickening pop, the injured leg fell away at the knee. A new leg pushed its way out of the wound and back down onto the track.

       “That’s going to make things more difficult.” Taryn remarked as she leveled her glowing spear at the thing.

       “As hard as killing demon smoke?” Sylvie inquired with a slight grin on her face.

       The two shared a laugh, startling everyone in the dell including the spider. Taryn realized with a start that she was enjoying this.

       Stepping forward she kept the point of her spear leveled at the main body.

       “You may be able to regrow your legs.” She told it. “But I wager that you can’t regrow your brain or heart!”

       The spider looked uncertainly at them. In a flash of understanding Taryn realized that it did not know what to do! No doubt all its other prey had succumbed to terror in its mere presence! But they had the audacity to laugh at fear! It clearly thought them mad, and she had to admit it was probably not wrong about that.

       Taryn opened her mouth and began to chant. The ancient language rushed out in one long spell. The spider gave a scream of agony as fine particles of sand leaped into the air and struck the hairy body. Wherever they touched the sand glowed red. A cloud sprang up, obscuring the spider before them.

       “Taryn! I can’t see to take the shot!” Sylvie shouted in frustration.

       Taryn couldn’t reply. The chanting had to continue now that the spell was in motion. She didn’t dare stop it.

       The cloud gained a form and mass all of its own. It then started to shrink! It went from being large enough to hide a cement truck to little more than a cloud to hide a motorcycle. Then it vanished with a hissing noise as the sand fell back to the ground.

       Before them lay a naked human. Taryn noticed that his back had the tattoo of an antelope skull, just like the people from her vision. His skin was darkly tanned and had an almost leathery quality to it, like someone who had spent very little time indoors from the desert sun. His arms were corded with muscles that flexed and shunted wildly as he thrashed, abrading himself on the ground. Clumsily he gained his feet, completely unabashed about his nakedness before them.

       He snarled at them, snapping his jaw like an alligator towards the humans. Taryn studied the face very carefully, noting the strangely familiar features despite the thrashing and snarling. Two of Bengal’s men moved to secure the man, moving very quick to keep from being bitten.

       “It is the leader of the Antelope Skulls!” Taryn said in surprise.

       Everyone looked at her in shock.

       “But…but that’s impossible!” Bengal spluttered. “Surely he couldn’t have lasted this long! That was almost twelve thousand years ago!”

       “Foul magic.” Taryn shook her head. “Surely.”

       Bengal hesitated, watching as his men fought with the berserker as he twisted and writhed like a snake, occasionally sinking his teeth into a glove or piece of body armor only to be wrenched away as they struggled to cuff him.

       “To think…” he shook his head.

       Little Cloud burst out, “Wait! He is one of the ancestors! Think of what we could learn from him!”

       “How, sis?” Melissa retorted. “That fucker can’t tell who’s friend or foe right now. Besides, he probably ate a lot of our ancestors.”

       Little Cloud shook her head urgently.

       “We don’t know that for certain!”

       “But I am.” Taryn said, her voice grim and hard. The girls stared at her in surprise.

       “He is from my vision.” She said, walking forward. As she approached the man howled and threw himself backwards, nearly bowling over his captors in his attempts to get away.

       “He cheerfully murdered many Anasazi, regardless of age or threat to him.” Taryn whispered, seizing the man’s head. He whimpered as cold white light flared between her palms.

       Seconds passed with them locked together. Then the man dropped like a stone into a deep sleep.

       Taryn felt her lip curl as she stared down at the now defenseless man. She could feel the foul sorceries contained just underneath the skin. Like a cloud of poisonous snakes under the surface of a calm lake.

       “We must find out what he knows.” Taryn said. “But I fear that this human form shall only be temporary for him. He wants to be the spider again, and that lets evil have its way in.” She warned Bengal.

       The agent frowned.

       “Isn’t this the foe we’ve been seeking?” He asked.

       Taryn shook her head.

       “He is one of the foes we’ve looked for. His master is still out there somewhere, and there is also the Scorpion. How it will react to the loss of this tribesman, I do not know. But I think that the battle will only just start now that we have him.”

       “Well, how are we to get out of here.” Sylvie drawled slightly, affecting her western accent to the max. “Case you all don’t remember, the exit’s blocked.”

       Taryn shrugged.

       “We’ve been led here for a purpose.” She said mysteriously. “I think our way is provided.”

       So saying, she grabbed the man and laid him across her back. Then she started walking back down the passageway towards the main stream and what she hoped to be freedom from the canyon.