Maria jumped down from Odarth’s back, her own sword clashing with two Arachnids’ swords. She let magic flow through her, and it helped give her hit more power. The Arachnids flew backward, crashing into the trunks of large trees, and dropped to the ground, unconscious.
Three more came at them, saliva hanging from their fangs in long strings.
Maria prepared her attack, but the Arachnid soldiers didn’t even get within five feet of her before Joe dropped to the dirt and swiped their legs out from under them using his own blade. They fell face-first, and Joe hit their skulls with the hilt of his sword, knocking the three Arachnid soldiers unconscious.
Everyone gawked at Joe, Light Elves and dark witches alike.
“What?” he asked, patting dirt off the sides of his jeans.
Maria spoke when no one else would. “Where the fuck did that come from?”
Joe shrugged. “Working at Rolling Hill, you learn some tricks.”
“Rolling Hill Mall is not that bad,” Claire said. “I worked there, too.”
“Try working the third shift sometime,” Joe suggested. He looked at the unconscious Arachnid soldiers and the others that the Light Elves had taken out. “Is this it? Was that the war? We needed a dragon for that?”
Odarth grumbled in reply.
“Sherlock could’ve handled those three himself,” Joe added.
Aw, I think I’m starting to like this one, Maria, Sherlock wagged his tail.
Maria chuckled and looked at Joe. “That’s not it. We still have to—”
“Uh, guys?” Tabby’s voice was distant.
Maria searched for her and found her standing between two trees on a low, scrubby hill.
“You might want to look at this.”
Maria’s stomach flipped, but she couldn’t hesitate; she was their leader. She crawled up the hill with Joe, Frieda, and E’olin behind her, and saw what Tabby had discovered.
“Oh, shit,” Joe said.
“I’m not too familiar with the Earth dialect,” E’olin mused, “but I do think ‘Oh, shit’ is right.”
As far out as Maria’s eyes could see, red bulbs, clustered in eights, dotted the horizon.
Arachnids. Scores of Arachnids.
They stood, waiting for the wanderers in a large clearing, which looked to be Arachnid-made. Stumps as wide as houses jutted out of the ground in rows. On the far side, barely visible and also sticking out of the ground, was a building. Maria saw what looked like an entrance, as big as the door to a four-car garage.
The lair, she thought, touching the crystal around her neck. It was burning brighter on each blink. Gramps was in there.
Even without the crystal, she would’ve sensed his magic.
Climb on, Maria, I will get you there, Odarth said.
Thank you.
As Maria mounted the dragon, Gelbus, still wearing his dinosaur hoodie, mounted Sherlock, and Joe, Claire, and Tabby climbed on Odarth, raising their swords. It hurt Maria to see how eager they were to do battle, especially with the outcome so uncertain.
The dark witches stepped to the left side of Odarth, Gloria in the middle of them. Frieda looked at Maria and gave her a reassuring nod.
On the right side, the Light Elves stood with their weapons out and at the ready. E’olin smiled up at her.
Maria’s arms and hands began to glow with blue magic. She raised her sword in the air and shouted, “Charge!” like she’d seen in so many war movies.
The wanderers followed her with shouts of “Death to the Spider Lords!” and “For Ignatius Mangood!”
Chapter Twelve
Odarth launched into the air, her great wings beating stinging wind. Maria braced herself for the sudden rise in altitude.
Inside of her mind, Odarth screamed out in pain.
Maria looked down and saw a hundred strands of white webbing on the dragon. Webs shot from the enemy like ropes. They were meant to hold the dragon down, to slow Maria's progess.
Then the Arachnids scurried up these webs like nightmares.
Fear struck Maria’s heart, but only momentarily. She would not allow it to consume her—could not allow it.
She held on to Odarth’s spike, knowing they were going down. There were just too many webs. Maria held her sword up in her battle pose.
Go down, Maria ordered Odarth. Give in; I can take them. They won’t be expecting you to do that.
You are right.
The dragon dropped, and Maria barely kept her balance as Odarth landed with a thud. Louder was the squishing of the Arachnids who were unlucky enough to find themselves in her landing zone.
Monstrous as the spider-creatures were, the fallen were hardly noticed by their comrades. Two had already made it up the dragon’s tail and were coming for Maria. Snarling, they swung their large, dark swords. Three blades met in a steel kiss, but only one remained when they parted.
Drawing on her magic, Maria sent those Arachnids off Odarth’s back. It gave her enough time to right herself and prepare for the others. It also allowed her to see where her family was on the battlefield.
The dark witches shot jets of flame toward rushing Arachnids. These soldiers came at the women on all eight legs, moving with a sickening grace, but they were no match for the combined flames. Frieda, along with the others, joined hands, and from the ground rose fires in the shape of men. They moved like men. They hit like men. They destroyed like men.
Flames erupted over the battlefield as the burning bodies of Arachnids bumped into other Arachnids, and they caught fire. A high-pitched scream came from their mouths, making Maria want to plug her ears.
On the other side of Odarth, the Light Elves brought bright magic. One Elf took to the trees, and, looking very similar to Legolas from The Lord of the Rings, shot arrow after arrow, as quick as a gunslinger shot bullets from a six-shooter.
Arachnids took the arrows, but kept coming. E’olin had no trouble finishing off the weakened soldiers with his magic. A burst of light here, a burst of light there, and the bodies piled up beside him.
Maria scanned the rest of the battlefield from atop Odarth, looking for the others. After a moment, she saw Claire and Tabby back to back, swinging at oncoming Arachnids. Their swords clattered together, and just as it seemed that one of the girls was losing their footing, the other would cover for them, and right back on top they’d go.
It was easy to find Sherlock and Gelbus, because Sherlock’s barking was as loud as the green and yellow of Gelbus’s hoodie. He and the Gnome zipped between the legs of Arachnids, weaving in and out of the dark figures. Maria laughed as two Arachnids swiped at them and missed, coming together to butt heads with a clonk that she could hear from her perch.
She would’ve helped them, but more Arachnids were climbing the dragon. Maria blasted them with a burst of magic that left her feeling drained; lightheaded, she began to work on the webbing that was wound around Odarth.
Suddenly, she felt a great heat baking off her mount. Flames spewed out of Odarth’s mouth in a colossal roar, and a rush of Arachnids that had been coming straight for them were turned into piles of ash. Maria couldn’t believe her eyes. She would probably never get used to the concept of a real, fire-breathing dragon.
More Arachnids were coming up Odarth’s tail.
“Fuck you, guys. Seriously,” Maria mumbled.
Swords clashed together, but Maria had learned her lesson not to get close enough to allow one of their claws to grab her. She slashed one across the armor and booted it off the side of the dragon. The other she vanquished by shouting a spell she didn’t know she possessed; another incantation she’d subconsciously picked up from her grandfather. The Arachnid launched high into the dark sky, lost amid the outcropping of trees.
Maria took a deep breath, but there was no time to rest. She hacked at the webs until Odarth was released from her gossamer prison, nearly passing out from the effort.
She climbed up to Odarth’s horns and held on for dear life. To the lair, she urged weakly.
<
br /> More Arachnids came for them, shooting webs, but Odarth burned them to crisps before they could land on their intended target.
Slowly, they made their way across the battlefield. Maria tried to scan for her family, but saw only smoke and the dim embers of the eyes of more Arachnid soldiers.
Do not harp on them, Maria, Odarth soothed. They will be okay. They have more heart than any warrior I have slain.
Maria nodded, mostly to herself.
When the next wave of Arachnids hit the dragon, both Odarth and Maria were ready. The animal whipped her tail, sending the spiders in every direction. Those who made it up the dragon’s back were quickly cut down by Maria’s sword, which had begun to glow blue with her magic.
Odarth took flight once they became overwhelmed, and came down on top of the Arachnids with bone-crushing force.
Once the smoke had settled and drifted away into the night, Maria looked out over the battlefield. Spiders lay in crumpled balls. Fire burned low on the ground and in the trees.
It was chaos, but it was victorious chaos.
The first wanderer she saw was Gelbus, but the first she heard was Sherlock, his bark unmistakable.
You did it, Maria! He ripped through a haze of smog and pounced on her, licking her face.
“We did it,” she corrected.
Gelbus had a few scrapes on his face, and the scraggly hairs on his chin were all but singed away, but otherwise he looked all right.
Joe, Tabby, and Claire returned next. In both of the girls’ hands were the heads of Arachnids, still dripping with gore. It was the perfect picture of insanity, seeing them with their kills. Maria would never have expected that in a million years.
“Where’s yours?” she asked Joe.
“Left it back at home,” he replied. They hugged. “No, it’s just not my style.” He was still covered in gore, though; his jeans were beyond bloody, soaked in the dark life force of the Arachnids.
E’olin and Frieda walked toward the group, and Frieda informed Maria that one of her sisters, Asia, had fallen, moving on to the next stage of life; to the dark witches, death was not the end.
“Asia went doing what she liked most: burning those spider-bastards to ashes,” Frieda said.
They held a moment of silence for her.
The Light Elves had suffered no losses. In fact, their group was the picture of health. Their weapons, armor, skin, and hair were spotless, unsoiled by the damaging effects of war.
The wanderers and their allies gathered at the entrance of the Widow’s lair.
“It’s not over,” Maria warned.
“We know,” Gelbus said, stepping forward and putting one hand, covered in sticky blood, on Maria’s.
“Yes, Maria, we know,” E’olin echoed.
“You will have to do this last part on your own,” Frieda informed her. “For Gloria and I have seen it in the flames.”
“That I’m victorious?” Maria asked, hopeful.
“Wouldn’t that be nice to know,” Claire mused. She tossed her trophy Arachnid head into the air and kicked it like an NFL punter. It sailed through the night and landed with a distant thump. “See if you can beat that, Tab.”
“Not yet,” Tabby whispered and punched Claire. “This is important.”
Glumly, Claire nodded.
“We have not seen whether or not you are victorious, but we have seen you going into the Widow’s lair with Odarth at your side. There, the greatest of battles will be fought,” Gloria said.
“There, the true war begins and ends,” Frieda added.
Maria sighed. “So be it.”
She tried to say her goodbyes to everyone, in case she didn’t come out alive. They refused to believe this would be goodbye.
"Go kick some ass," Claire said.
"We'll be right here waiting for you," Joe added.
"This is what you're meant to do," Tabby said.
Maria nodded. They were right. This was not goodbye. Maria wouldn't let it be.
Placing a hand on Odarth’s heated scales, the young witch asked, Are you ready?
No, Maria, I am not, but I fear I have no choice in the matter, the dragon replied.
Me either.
With that, they headed for the entrance. Just as Maria was about to walk over the threshold, an Arachnid bigger than the others fell from an unseen web above. He held a scythe, like the grim reaper, and his eyes had the slightest tinge of green in them.
“No entry, I’m afraid,” he smirked. “Ah, Maria Apple. I’ve heard so much about you; mostly from your screaming grandfather. It’s nice to finally put a face to the name.”
“And who are you?” Maria spat.
“Well, don’t you know? I am Jinxton.”
“Never heard of you,” she scoffed. “Now move out of the way, or I’ll kill you.”
Jinxton looked down at his massive boots, seeming to weigh the situation. Suddenly, as quick as a viper, the Arachnid struck out with his sword. Maria was ready, though, and slipped out of the way, swiping at him with her sword. Their steel clashed, sending a spray of sparks into the dark.
Maria was ready for battle despite her lack of energy. She needed to conserve as much energy as she could.
“Go, Maria!” E’olin shouted from behind her. “We shall take care of this…scum.”
Jinxton laughed. “I’ll kill every one of you. This is not your battle to fight.”
“That’s where you’re wrong,” Gelbus said.
The giant Arachnid swiveled his head around in search of the source of the tiny voice. But Jinxton didn’t see the Gnome rushing at him with a dagger in hand. By the time he did, the dagger was already buried in the Arachnid’s abdomen. He cried out in pain, and the rest of the wanderers took the opportunity, falling on Jinxton with ferocity.
Maria turned, catching eyes with Joe. Go on, his eyes said. We’ve got this.
Jinxton was no match for their combined energy, magic, and force. The Arachnid who’d had such a lust for power that he was willing to overthrow the Widow soon came to be nothing more than the chitinous shell his soul had once possessed.
Maria found her way through the lair’s winding corridors. It helped to have Odarth; the Rogue Dragon’s smoldering eyes ate away at the darkness, allowing Maria to see the twists and turns ahead.
A high, sweet laughter filled her ears at the same time that a sickening smell of death and blood and rot filled her nostrils.
“Maria Apple,” said a voice she knew from her nightmares. It was the Widow.
Maria stepped forward, Odarth behind her.
“Ooh, and a friend. Who is this?”
I’m the one who is going to help rip your throat out, Odarth growled.
Just as Maria was about to relay the message, the Widow replied, “We’ll see about that, Rogue Dragon.”
In front of the Widow, Gramps swung from a web. He was completely unconscious, or so Maria hoped. There was a strong chance he was already dead.
She was experiencing the shock of so many things all at once: seeing her grandfather hanging, beaten and bloody, possibly dead, realizing the Widow’s power was so great that she could converse with a Rogue Dragon, and noticing the mound of bones and discarded half-eaten corpses to her left. As she processed all this, she took in the greatness of the giant spider overlord in front of her.
The Widow was huge—bigger than Odarth—as massive as the building itself, it seemed. A web even bigger than its creator hung high up in the corner. At first glance, Maria could see large victims stuck there, wrapped to look mummified.
A fear crept up her throat, tasting like bile. She swallowed it down and stood up taller.
“You brought my music box with you, Maria. How kind of you,” the Widow purred. She reached a leg up and nudged Gramps.
Maria’s grip on her sword tightened as she bared her teeth.
“I think I can offer you a fair trade. Your grandfather for my music box,” the Widow proposed.
Maria smiled; a gesture completely
at odds with how she felt on the inside. “No way,” she answered. “I’m going to kill you and take my grandfather back.”
The Widow chortled. Slowly, she crept down the large stone steps of the dais. She moved with a grace Maria didn’t think was possible for such a creature.
Get on, and follow my lead, Odarth commanded.
Follow your lead?
Trust me.
Maria climbed on just as the Widow shot across the cavernous lair.
The monster’s feet scrabbled on the stone, sending bones and dust and strands of web all over the place.
Odarth jumped into the air and flapped her wings, and the Widow missed the pair, ramming into the wall with earthquake-like force. Stone shattered and fell to the floor. A large cloud of dust obscured Maria’s vision, but within, she could just make out eight glowing eyes, blinking on at once.
There was death in those eyes, and malice and evil.
Go, Maria! Odarth shouted in her mind. She arched her back, and Maria saw what the dragon meant. She was just a few feet away from the strand of web that Gramps was wrapped in. If she jumped, she could make it.
Probably.
Hopefully.
Maria jumped. For a long moment, she floated, hoping against hope that the music box wouldn’t fall from the bag over her shoulder, or that her sword wouldn’t unsheathe itself and get lost among the ruins.
She managed to keep her possessions and snag the sticky filament, but the single thread wasn’t strong enough to support both her and Gramps. Slowly, they fell to the floor, riding the strand downward like a diabolical elevator.
Just before Gramps’s unconscious body hit the dais, Maria jumped off, the web’s adhesive ripping away bits of her flesh as she did so. She hardly felt the biting pain in her palms, though, as she quickly took out her sword.
Odarth and the Widow clashed no less than fifty feet away, with a sound like metal grinding together—chitinous armor meeting indestructible dragon scales.
With the sword in hand, Maria chopped at the webbing around her grandfather. It was as hard as steel, yet Maria was able to sever it after many careful hits.
Midwest Magic Chronicles Box Set Page 78