NJ109061006

June 10 2006

We walked for a few minutes, again down highly vaulted corridors that were simply obviously pathways from
one spot to another.

I noticed a subtle change in both of them after a few minutes, though. I had no idea why. Then I felt the same
sort of change in Theta. An...anticipation. A tenseness.

"What's going on?" I asked, giving voice to my concern. "Is something wrong? The sound of your wings has
changed."

Leonurus laughed aloud. "See you! She is still our Damiana!"

Dill whipped around. "What? What? THIS is Damiana? But...but…" her face totally confused for the briefest
moment before that dour expression slammed back down. But her eyes. Oh her eyes! Full of bursting
curiosity.

Leonurus gently patted Dill's shoulder. "Yes. We believe she sleeps within this ooman."

Dill began muttering to herself. "A honeybee inside an ooman. There must be something in the archives about
this. Bael would not be so cruel as to not leave an answer for such a riddle. It is only for us to find it!"

She raised her head suddenly. "Ah...we grow close. But first we must cross Predator Row."

Fleur and I looked up in surprise. "What? What's Predator Row?"

Leonurus pointed in front of us. "That, my dears, is Predator Row."

We looked ahead of us.

Oh...my...god. The webbing alone! The vaulted hallway opened up into a much larger and wider corridor and it
was full. Full of webbing. All kinds of webbing. Orb webs were mixed with cob webs which were mixed with
simple but heavy tethers.

And below, standing just before the webbing started, were a group of "poppers." It took a minute but I could
finally make out what they were saying.

They were betting! They were betting on how far each one would make it through and which predator they
thought might...catch them! And they were all giggling!

Almost above my head I heard a hissing sort of whispery sound. "Look, Scregka. Look who has come to play,
today!" the voice said and it sounded like it was smiling.

I looked way up into the shadows far FAR above us as I believe they allowed us to hear their words. "Yessss.
Tiss a new creche of poppers. They have dissscovered uss, aye? Sshall we give them the lesssons they
ssseek?"

It was then that my eyes cleared. The spider that sat far up into the darkness of the ceiling, the one with the
more hissing voice - I could finally make her out. She was a black widow! Smallish for one, but obviously that
did not stop her from being able to catch her guests.

I smiled as I listened to the poppers making bet after bet with one another. Then their antennae popped up as
they heard my laughter.

The whispering exploded anew with "It's the Queen!" "She's here!"

And the betting started anew, prizes changing wildly as I watched them grow excited at the thought that the
Queen was there to watch them.

And suddenly, with what seemed to me to be no sign at all, they rose into the air, all of them going in slightly
different directions down the dangerous corridor.

Their faces grew serious then, as they began darting to and fro, under and over and dark shapes suddenly
appeared. Some squealed as those shadows appeared in front of them.

I gasped and laughed at the same time as one stopped short, and while turning to flee the dark hands that
reached out for her, I heard her groan as I watched a sting go deep into both a breast and her navel. Her eyes
wide and her antennae sprang back as her mouth went "Oh!"

Scregka, the widow whispered. "You fly well, young new honeybee. But you do not twist nearly well enough. A
barrel and a back and then a forward roll twist would have serviced you well at that point," she instructed as I
saw the honeybee instantly yanked into the shadows - laughing and groaning at the same time.

"Yes yes yes," smiled Dill. "It is there we must traverse to get to the Archives. Now you see why the
Archives are rarely visited. You must be...determined."

Then she smiled. "But I know a secret path to the Archives" she said conspiratorily as she grabbed Fleur and
my hands and pulled us in another direction, away to the side where there stood what, by comparison, was a
very small door covered with ancient webbing. Unused. Dry. She bounced and hovered through, still pulling us
forward.