A Death of Music

by A. A. Chamberlynn

  Penelope felt something stir within her, in the dark of Spider Woman’s labyrinth. It was magic, but it felt unlike her magic had felt before. Not fast and dark like a snake bite, coiled within and then lashing out. This felt buoyant, like moonlight, and it smelled of sage smoke.

  “I think I’ve got it,” Penelope breathed in wonder, opening her eyes. A ball of pale green light floated in the palm of her hand, illuminating the tunnel around her.

  But Willow was gone.

  Penelope spun around in panic. Where was her friend? It had to be more of Spider Woman’s trickery. She didn’t know whether it meant that Willow was in danger, or something else entirely. She could backtrack to the cavern, but that wasted precious time she needed to find the artifact.

  She began to walk further down the tunnel. They needed this object to save Atsa. And they needed it to find the three seals. She had to trust that Willow was okay.

  Her magic illuminated the walls around her, and soon she came to a fork with five branches. Penelope focused on Atsa now. On her grandmother. On her clan. She let the feelings fill her up, and her magic flared even brighter. Then a spark separated off from the orb she held in her palm and went down the far-left tunnel. Penelope followed it.

  She walked for what felt an eternity. Would the artifact be visible, in plain sight somewhere? Or was it hidden in the walls or in the floor? Astonishingly, she could still hear the faint drip drip drip of the hourglass. Time was running scarce, and she had a feeling that not only Atsa, but Willow and the other Riders depended on her now.

  The tunnel opened into a huge cavern, many times the size of the small one with the red candles. Stalactites dripped from the ceiling, and massive spiderwebs stretched between them. A thousand glints of light reflected from their depths, and Penelope realized with a shiver that they were eyes. Spider eyes.

  And there, floating in the center of the cavern, far in the distance, a small round object hung glowing in midair.

  Penelope strode forward. It was a ways off, and she knew she didn’t have much time left. Twenty minutes at most. And she had to make her way back to Atsa in time. As she walked, she heard a stir overhead. The spiders.

  Light from her magic glinted off long, glistening legs as one of the spiders descended toward her on a silken thread. It was the size of a small pony. Penelope dodged to the left of it and began to jog. More stirring, more sounds of spindly legs and chittering teeth. Spiders began to drop down from the ceiling all around her. She moved into a run, her heart pounding in her chest.

  The artifact was just ahead. Only another dozen yards. If she retrieved it and ran all the way back, she might still make it before the hour was up.

  She felt the hot breath of the spider a half-second before it slammed into her back.

  Chapter Twelve

  Felicity

  Felicity felt the change in the hourglass. It became louder, each drop of dew reverberating through the tunnels like the gong of an old bell. Less than sixty seconds to go.

  She and Dynah were almost back anyway. Empty-handed. Felicity hoped that Willow and Penelope had had better luck finding the artifact than they had. But when she reached the cave of Spider Woman, she saw only Willow, a stricken look on her face.

  “Where’s Penelope?” Dynah asked, her body going rigid.

  Willow shook her head back and forth. “I don’t know. We got separated somehow. I suspect foul play,” she spat, staring hard at the goddess.

  The older woman remained impassive, watching the last drops of liquid empty into the bottom of the hourglass. Next to her, Atsa held his chin up bravely, but Felicity could see the tension in the lines around his eyes.

  “If you have harmed my sister—” Dynah growled.

  A faint reverberation moved through the tunnels, and they all watched as the last drop of dew fell.

  “Well,” said the goddess. “I confess that I am disappointed. I was actually hoping one of you would figure it out.”

  “Save your disappointment for someone else.”

  Penelope stepped into the cavern, holding a glowing orb aloft. She had a deep bloody gash along her left cheekbone, and another across her chest. Her eyes were beautiful and terrible in their power.

  Atsa’s head whipped up, and Dynah rushed to hug her. Felicity felt her own swell of relief. She was the outsider of the four of them, not sisters like Dynah and Penelope, and not best friends like Penelope and Willow. But now, through their connection as Riders, she felt like they were inseparable. And despite the awfulness of reliving her past, Felicity was glad to feel her old self more clearly again. The magic within her now felt… balanced.

  “Well done,” Spider Woman said.

  “Your spiders nearly killed me,” Penelope snarled. “I hardly think that was a fair challenge.”

  “It was never meant to be easy,” the goddess said. “It’s a trial. I had to know you could tap into magic that didn’t involve death and destruction. Because if you can’t do that, your mission has already failed. You had to prove your worth to me. And you have.”

  “So, you’ll tell us how to find Sassafras?” Felicity asked.

  Spider Woman nodded. “Sassafras leads a band of demons who travel around performing shows.”

  Silence fell for several moments.

  “What kind of shows?” Dynah asked suspiciously.

  “Stunt riding. Tricks. Clowns. Something akin to Buffalo Bill’s Wild West show.”

  “You’re kidding,” Willow said.

  “I’m not.” Spider Woman pointed to the object in Penelope’s hand. “That will lead you to her.”

  The Riders all paused to look at it. It was about the size of a chicken egg, and the metallic golden surface shimmered and shifted as if it contained a miniature dust storm.

  “Whoever holds it will act as a compass,” the goddess continued. “Since you don’t have days or weeks to find her—you’ve got about two left before the breaking of the fifth seal—that will take you right to her, wherever she currently is.”

  The reminder of time sent a tickle along Felicity’s collarbone. “We should get going,” she said. “Before the angels notice we’ve been gone.”

  Penelope gestured to Atsa and he stepped away from Spider Woman. She walked behind him protectively as they left the cavern. “Thank you,” she called to the goddess as they entered the tunnel back to the surface.

  “Good luck,” the old woman retorted. “You’re going to need it.”

  Willow followed Atsa and Penelope. Felicity didn’t want to take up the rear, but luckily Dynah fell alongside her as they left the cavern. The walk back wasn’t so dreadful as the journey in, because Penelope created a glowing ball of magic that lit the way. They walked for ages. It felt like surely they’d never reach the surface before the fifth seal was broken, let alone finding Sassafras.

  And then she felt it—the thickening of the air, a change in the earth around them. They were approaching the shift in realms, where Spider Woman’s world ended and theirs began. A portal. It felt familiar this time, now that she’d passed through it once. She remembered the warmth of the earth in her world, her connection to it. She hadn’t felt that down in the realm of the goddess.

  And then, ahead of her, she heard a soft cry.

  Willow stopped abruptly, and Felicity and Dynah ran into the back of her. Felicity looked around Willow to see what was happening. At first, she only saw Penelope. Or more specifically, the look on Penelope’s face. Disbelief. Horror. Anger.

  Felicity’s eyes traveled next to Atsa. Except Atsa wasn’t Atsa anymore.

  He looked like a ghost, silvery, translucent. Felicity could see through him, see the walls of the tunnel on the other side of him. He tried to step forward, but the further he moved from the edge of Spider Woman’s realm, the more invisible he became.

  “What’s happening?” Penelope said, her voice all panic and breath and tears.

  “It’s too late,” Atsa responded. He sounded sad, but also resolute. As if he wasn’t
surprised.

  “No.” Penelope jerked her head back and forth. “Spider Woman said we had an hour. I mean, she obviously meant including the time it would take to reach the surface.”

  Atsa didn’t say anything in return for several long moments. Felicity felt her heart pounding in her chest, felt her blood rushing in her ears.

  “I knew before,” he finally said. “I was just hoping I was wrong.”

  Penelope’s voice came out in a squeak. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

  “I didn’t want to distract you from your trial,” he said. He tried to smile, but it crumpled around the edges. “Saving the world is far more important.”

  Felicity felt the walls of the tunnel rumble. She could see Penelope trembling, fists down at her sides. Power shot off her in waves.

  “You were supposed to stay with the horses.” Her words rushed out in a gasp of sorrow and desperation.

  “It was my choice,” he said, meeting her terrible gaze. “I wanted to make sure you were okay. I wanted to do my part to stop the Apocalypse.”

  Penelope let out a growl like a trapped animal and slammed her fist into the tunnel wall. The earth shook again, and the ground rocked beneath their feet.

  And then Spider Woman was there, pushing between Felicity and Dynah, moving to stand before Penelope.

  “Quit trying to destroy my tunnel,” she said. “Throwing around that kind of power in a portal is a good way to sever the path between worlds entirely.”

  “That’s probably for the best,” Penelope said.

  “Not if you ever want to see Atsa again,” the goddess said, crossing her arms over her chest.

  “Turn him back,” Willow said. “You have the power to do it. I know you do.”

  “Why don’t you grow your own power and come back here and do it yourself,” Spider Woman said. “The world isn’t a safe place for him now anyway.”

  “You planned this all along!” Penelope spat.

  Spider Woman shrugged. “You couldn’t have stopped Heaven in the state you were in when you got here. You’d better learn to control your powers, and learn fast, if you have any chance of survival whatsoever. Atsa can provide another incentive to do so.”

  Penelope locked gazes with the goddess. “I promise you this: if you harm him in any way, I will destroy you.”

  The woman merely smiled in return and then vanished into the darkness of the tunnel.

  Atsa turned and looked after his captor, and Felicity could see that his eyes glittered in a way they hadn’t before. A way that wasn’t entirely human. He moved back across the line between worlds, becoming more solid with every step. Penelope followed him.

  “We’ll be back for you,” she said. “I promise.”

  “I know you will,” he said.

  He smiled, a weak smile, but this time it stayed on his face. Felicity felt a swell of guilt. He’d led them here, and now he was trapped. Dynah reached out and grabbed Felicity’s hand and squeezed it. Penelope rested her hand on Atsa’s shoulder, their eyes locked for a moment, then she turned and rushed up the tunnel.

  Felicity shivered. A life now hung in the balance, in the outcome of their mission. And somehow that felt more real than saving all the world.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Dynah

  When they reemerged at the base of the butte, Dynah breathed a sigh of relief. She couldn’t decide if Spider Woman was on their side or not. Good and evil, right and wrong… it seemed there were no clear answers anymore. If there ever had been.

  So much had changed in the realm of the goddess. She felt back in control now. She hadn’t realized how dominant Death was within her, and how much Dynah had fallen to the side. Which was something she vowed never to let happen again. The only problem being that now she wasn’t sure how to summon her magic. It still roiled inside of her like a storm, but she felt adrift, like a boat at sea without a rudder. What if her bone army turned on her?

  “What do we do with Atsa’s horse?” Felicity asked as they caught sight of the five equines waiting for them.

  Everyone turned to look at Penelope.

  Dynah watched the range of emotions that played over her sister’s face. The way she worried her lower lip between her teeth for just a moment, the tension across her forehead. She had strong feelings for this boy. Feelings that remained, even after the influx of power they had all received. Whether it was merely friendship, or something more, she couldn’t quite tell.

  “We can’t leave her here with these… things.” Penelope waved her hand around them at the mist, and they all paused a moment to listen to the strange susurrations emitting from whatever it was that lived within. “We’ll take her with us. Until we come across a farm where we can leave her in someone’s care.”

  Dynah nodded and saw the other two women nod as well. It was the least they could do, given what he’d sacrificed to bring them here. They turned as one and rode away from the shadow of the butte, Penelope leading Atsa’s paint mare alongside Domino.

  Power surged within Dynah as the horses moved into a gallop across the sandy desert plains. Her magic as a Rider sung strong within her, as well as her connection to the stars above, even though it was now broad daylight. She felt a surge of relief. She realized they could still access their power through the act of riding. But this time, she maintained her sense of self. She supposed she had Spider Woman to thank for that. If she ever had to choose between the magic and maintaining control of herself, she honestly didn’t know for sure which she’d pick. So, for now, she lost herself in the moment. To ride, this was her purpose. To go forth across the land. To move like the wind. To be the wind.

  It was late afternoon. The sun beat down on them as they flew across the earth. Hooves pounded, shaking the earth deep down to its bones. Dynah could feel her army stir awake and follow her; the shadow of her dragon fell from the clouds above. The desert stretched endlessly before them, and where men would pale at its stark danger, she reveled in its vastness. The ride was all that existed.

  When they came upon the homestead, Dynah couldn’t have said if they’d been riding for hours or days. So lost in the thrill of the ride was she that time had ceased to exist. Only the setting of the sun told her they were still within the same day.

  Four Riders in a row, they approached the front of the small wooden house. A curl of smoke rose from the chimney. The chickens that had been pecking in the yard fluttered away, shrieking in fear and aggravation. Several horses in the adjacent corral watched, necks arched, eyes alert.

  Dynah opened her mouth to call to the residents within, but the front door whipped open and a weathered cowboy pointed his rifle at her head.

  The memories assaulted her with brutal force. Her father lifting his rifle. The bullet hitting Domino. Penelope’s scream, echoing across the sky. Their mother, taking the next bullet to save them. And her own rage, pulsing, pulsing, released. A shock wave. Life for life. Her father’s body on the ground…

  And then she saw his face again, as she had in the tunnels. Roy, staring at her. Not a memory at all. Him. His skin gray and peeling, a section of his cheek sunken in, showing teeth and bone. His eyes bored into hers. Murderer, he whispered.

  Penelope lifted a hand, made a quick motion, and the gun twisted in on itself like a pretzel at the county fair. The man dropped his weapon, let out a sound that was half yelp, half bellow, and pressed himself back into the frame of the door, eyes wide with terror.

  “My sister and I do not care for rifles.” Penelope’s voice held the coiled threat of a rattler, cold and deadly.

  Dynah jerked herself out of her past, of that day when everything had changed. “You will care for this horse.” She pointed to the paint mare. “Care for it as if it were your own child. We will return for it soon.”

  “If any harm befalls her while we are gone…” Penelope’s eyes drifted down to the folded metal lying at the man’s feet.

  He stood frozen, staring at them both, as if in shock.

  �
�Do you understand?” Dynah asked.

  He nodded, a shaky jerk of his chin. Penelope lifted the mare’s reins, and the man slowly peeled himself off the doorframe and stepped forward slowly, one trembling foot at a time.

  “We’re in a hurry,” Penelope said.

  The man shuffled forward, eyes down, and snatched the reins before backing away toward the corral.

  “You don’t know how lucky you are,” Willow called.

  He said nothing, just continued to back away from them, too scared to turn around. Dynah watched him and felt no pity in her heart. It would be a long time before she could see a man with a gun and not feel a wave of all-consuming darkness. Perhaps never.

  But Willow was right—he couldn’t fathom now the fortuitous chance he’d been given. For everywhere else they rode, they left chaos in their wake.

  They continued across the desert, traveling north. Penelope led the way, the orb in her hand, occasionally making a slight change in their trajectory. Now that the mortal man was no longer with them, they rode even faster. Their horses had changed, as they had. Normal limitations no longer applied. Bullet, Music, Domino, and her own Moon. Red, black, white, and palest gray. They devoured the earth with each stride. They passed over mountain ranges and across rivers and reached emerald fields of tall grasses.

  Stars had popped out across the purple sky by the time they arrived. The horses slowed to a trot, and then a walk. They were in a valley between high gray mountain peaks. Colored tents blossomed up from the earth like confections at the baker’s shop. Most were red and black, though two were purple, and one was a spectacular shade of vermillion. Glowing lanterns and fires dotted the area, drops of amber against the black of night.

  Dynah realized with a start that she could feel the demons. Demons and humans both. They had a different magic to them, a different energy. Had she ever come across a demon before, in her human life, and just not realized it? Now, as a Rider, the difference was unmistakable. The demons felt hot but also freezing cold at the same time. The feeling of stepping into a hot spring in the dead of winter, two bites at once, but both distinct. She could sense them, scattered about the campsite just like the fires.