Maria nodded, but it was a lie. Seeing Gramps like that had shaken her. He was always so happy, and now he was broken-hearted; someone as wonderful as Ignatius Apple didn’t deserve that. Ever.
“Do you want to look around?” she asked Gramps.
“Oh…I don’t know.”
“It might help,” Maria offered, but then the thought of seeing the skeletons of the people he had lived amongst and protected crossed her mind, and she wasn’t so sure.
Gramps suddenly perked up. “You know, you’re right, Maria. It would do me good. And I’ve always wanted you to see the place where you came from.”
“Me too,” Maria answered. She returned his smile through her fresh doubts.
“We’re actually going in there?” Tabby shuddered.
“I’m with Tab on this one,” Claire agreed.
Likewise, Sherlock added. Never thought I’d agree with them…
“Oh, it will be fine; the Arachnids are gone. Besides, we have Maria Apple on our side,” Gramps said, still smiling.
Maria nodded and patted the hilt of the sheathed sword that hung on her hip.
“I won’t let anyone or anything mess with us,” she assured them.
“That’s my girl,” Gramps commended, then he muttered something under his breath, and sparks began to flicker off his fingers, lighting the dark path ahead of them.
“Great, now all the weird creatures are going to know where we are,” Tabby whispered.
Claire rolled her eyes.
Gramps, who was well ahead of the two girls, looked back and said, “Oh, believe me, they don’t need to see us. The really bad ones can smell us from a mile away!”
Claire was dumbstruck that Gramps had been able to hear them all the way back there. She looked at Maria, who just shrugged.
Tabby stopped and looked around. “Was that supposed to make me feel better?” she wanted to know.
They walked on, leaving her behind.
She heard something in the trees behind her—a snapping of twigs, a deep breathing, and something that sounded like a loon—and she took off running after the rest of the group.
They walked through the gates without a problem. The underlying smell of war and death was thick in the air, but they did their best to ignore it. Even Sherlock knew how deeply seeing his former home in ruins was affecting Gramps, and he kept his telepathic mouth shut.
As they got deeper into the village and Maria saw the destroyed buildings—which, had they been in better shape and been untouched by war, would’ve reminded her of townhouses in the better parts of Akron—Maria began to feel the same dread she’d felt when she saw the Silver Griffin change into Malakai outside of Salem’s Ice Cream. Not to mention the music box was practically vibrating its way out of her bag, as if it didn’t want to be here. She almost asked Gramps what that was about, but thought better of it.
Whatever it is, I can handle it.
Gramps stopped at a fork in the road. There was an upturned wagon on the right side of the fork; one wheel was leaning against the rubble of a large building, and another was in the overgrown brush to the left.
“There it is,” Gramps whispered to himself.
He was looking at the tallest building, the Royal Hall. It was the least ruined part of the entire village. For some reason, it gave Maria hope. Why? She already knew what had happened here, what had made Gramps flee to Earth.
“Wow,” Tabby breathed. “It’s beautiful.”
“Truly fit for a king and a queen,” Gramps remarked. Now his smile was genuine. “Ah, so many good memories there.” His features darkened. “And so many bad ones…”
Imagine how many chew toys I could fit in there! Sherlock yipped.
Maria chuckled. “A hell of a lot.”
“You must see it,” Gramps insisted to Maria. “You all must see it.”
“Do you think that’s safe?” Maria asked.
Tabby and Claire looked back and forth at each other, shifting on their heels.
Gramps pointed to Maria’s sword, reminding her of what she had said earlier.
“Right,” Maria recalled.
If Maria’s breath was taken when she first stepped into the world of Oriceran, it was nonexistent now that she was in the royal throne room of Dominion.
It was a vast place—the ceiling was so high up that it seemed there were dark clouds hanging above them. Two great pillars rose in the middle of the room, and a singed banner hung from one. The other pillar was bare, but Maria knew it had held its own banner many years ago—she had seen it in the vision that Duke, the dead boy, had shown her. The one remaining banner looked oddly like a domino. Maria thought about asking, but saw that Gramps was too emotionally drained to even talk. He walked slowly up the long, red carpet to the throne.
Sherlock was sniffing around. He hit a spot that caused him to turn his head.
“What?” Maria whispered.
Dead bodies were here, Sherlock answered.
Maria's heart sank. She knew of those dead bodies. One of them had been her father, the king. Claire must've noticed Maria's sullen look because she asked, “What is it?”
Tabby caught the tone of the conversation. “I don’t think I want to know,” she decided.
“You don’t,” Maria assured her.
At the end of the carpet, Gramps used what looked like a stand that had once held a torch to lower himself to the floor. He got on one knee and bowed his head. The room was huge, but very quiet; Gramps’s voice drifted back toward them.
“My king,” he whispered and clapped a fist to his heart.
He got up slowly.
Maria walked toward him. “This is where my father sat?”
Gramps nodded.
Maria looked over the throne. It was modest in comparison to the rest of the hall; just a chair, high-backed, with a plush seat of faded red. She then looked at the area in front of the throne. In Duke’s memory, Maria had seen the king splayed out on the floor, dead. Of course, she didn’t know that was her father, at the time.
At least the Arachnids had the good grace to dispose of the bodies, she thought bitterly. But a deeper, darker part of her mind knew they had probably not ‘disposed of’ the bodies; they had probably eaten them, bones and all. The thought was enough to make her stomach churn.
“I’ve never met a more honorable man,” Gramps was saying.
Sherlock suddenly bounded past them and jumped onto the throne; as his weight settled on the cushion, a puff of dust exploded from its sides.
“Down, Sherlock!” Gramps ordered.
The Bloodhound whined.
“The throne doesn’t belong to you, my canine friend.”
Maria raised her eyebrows at Sherlock, and he came down reluctantly.
Man, you guys never let me have any fun. First it was the Raffin, and now the throne…what’s next? I can’t even pee on a Gnome?
“No, you can’t!” Maria scolded.
“Why is Maria talking to herself?” Tabby asked. “Oh, right; I forgot she can talk to Sherlock. Wow, I’ll never get used to that.”
“Think about how I feel,” Maria told her.
“Could be worse,” Claire replied.
Maria nodded.
Once Sherlock moved out of the way, Maria followed in Gramps’s footsteps and got down on one knee, putting a clenched fist over her heart.
“For the king,” she said. My father.
Gramps looked at her, tears gleaming in his eyes, and smiled.
Claire and Tabby followed suit.
“Sherlock,” Maria said. “Sit.”
Sherlock rolled his droopy eyes, but he did what he was told, even moving his right front leg as far as he could to the left in an attempt to look like the rest of them. It wasn’t perfect, but it was good enough.
The tears in Gramps’s eyes spilled down his cheek. “I’m so lucky,” he said. “So lucky to have all of you in my life. Thank you. I needed this.”
Maria hugged him.
Claire
and Tabby moved over and joined in on the hug. Even Sherlock barked and sniffed around their ankles. For a split second, Maria thought he was going to lift his leg. Thankfully, he didn’t; talk about ruining the moment. Instead, he weaseled his way into the middle of the group hug and barked until everyone reached down to pet him.
“Little attention whore,” Maria rolled her eyes.
I learned from the best, Sherlock answered with a wink.
They parted, and Gramps took a deep breath. “I think I’ve seen enough for now—”
The Bloodhound started to growl—a low rumbling that carried far in the great hall.
“What is it?” Maria asked.
“Oh, shit,” Tabby groaned. “I knew it. I knew I should’ve stayed home.”
“Quiet,” Claire hissed and nudged her. Gramps looked around the hall. The darkness was near complete in the corners; the only light coming from the window above them through which one of the moons shone.
Maria thought of the glowing red eyes of Malakai and the other Arachnids she had seen in Duke’s memory. She saw none of those eyes now, but that didn’t mean other creatures weren’t lurking in the shadows, waiting for them.
She gripped the hilt of her sword and pulled it free. She found that it was much easier to wield on Oriceran than it was on Earth. She also found that the strange buzzing coming from the music box was now thrumming through her entire body.
Magic, she thought. This is a magical world, and I’m a magical being.
It gave her confidence. She was ready to take on whatever Sherlock was sensing. His growling hadn’t stopped.
“I think it’s best we leave. I fear we have overstayed our welcome,” Gramps whispered.
Sherlock stopped growling long enough to say, You don’t say, old man.
“What is it?” Maria asked the Bloodhound. “What did you hear?”
But he didn’t have to answer, because suddenly, Maria heard it, too—the sound of many legs, clicking across the stone floor.
The sound of Arachnids.
Maria had never been one to run from confrontation, but with Tabby and Claire tagging along, it was the best option. She didn’t want her friends to get hurt because of her. They’d already come pretty close to it back at Salem’s Ice Cream, when they had run Malakai over with Claire’s car.
What if that hadn’t worked? What if Malakai had bounced right off of the Kia, and wound up killing Claire and Tabby? Maria wouldn’t have been able to live with herself.
She was beginning to regret bringing them along.
“Go,” she whispered, ushering Claire and Tabby out of the hall first. She held her sword and looked back toward the throne.
The Arachnids hadn’t appeared yet.
“Back the way we came,” Gramps ordered.
When they got outside, the light from the two moons seemed nonexistent, and the world was dark…too dark.
“Are they near?” Maria asked Sherlock, once they were safely between two ruined buildings. The shadows will hide us. We can wait the Arachnids out.
Sherlock stopped and sniffed the air. No, but that damn Raffin is. His droopy, red-rimmed eyes opened wider. He let out a soft growl and begged, Let me at ‘im.
“Not now, Sherlock,” Gramps hissed. He pulled a wand out of his long cloak. Maria looked at it, confused.
“What—where did you get that?” she asked him.
“Questions for another time,” he answered.
Claire and Tabby were huddled close to each other, leaning up against the ruined brick of the building on their left. Tabby gasped, the noise sharp enough to make Maria tense up and hold her sword tighter. Then her friend brought up a shaky finger and pointed out to the main road.
The Arachnids were coming straight for them.
Maria held up a hand, telling her comrades to stand their ground. No need for confrontation…yet.
“Man meat,” one of the Arachnids observed; he wore a robe. The creatures walked on their two legs, and as this one talked, he moved his remaining six arms, which extended from his torso in what resembled a windmill. “I smell man meat,” he said again. He tilted his head to the sky and inhaled deeply, much like Sherlock had done earlier.
Maria lunged forward, but Gramps caught her and held her back.
“You don’t smell nothing,” the other Arachnid argued. “No one would dare set foot in this place; they know it belongs to us.”
The second Arachnid was shorter and more stout. He reminded Maria of the bodybuilders she frequently saw at the gym when she went kickboxing.
“I know what I smell,” the robed one countered. “I smell man, and they are scared.”
Maria took a quick look at Tabby and Claire, confirming this. They were practically holding each other.
The end of Gramps’s wand lit up with a faint blue light, and Maria brought her sword up.
They won’t know about the music box, she reminded herself. They’re just grunts; they’ve probably never even met the Widow.
The Arachnids were now walking past the alley where Maria and her friends were hiding.
Gramps flattened himself against the brick, and the rest followed suit.
The two Arachnids passed, their footsteps fading.
“That was close,” Tabby breathed. “Thought I’d never have to see one of those freaks again. Geesh.”
“Least they didn’t look as bad as our old friend Malakai,” Claire shrugged. She brought a hand up to her chin, deep in thought. “You know what? I wonder if it’s too late to chase those bastards down and make them pay for my car.”
Tabby rolled her eyes.
Gramps brought a finger to his lips. The glowing light at the end of his wand dimmed.
They were in the clear.
“C’mon,” Gramps prodded. “We have a Gnome to find.”
Sherlock’s ears perked up at that; Maria couldn’t help but smile as she looked at them.
Her smile was short-lived, as Tabby let out a blood-curdling scream, and Sherlock began barking like he was rabid.
Maria was about to yell that their noise would blow their cover, but she saw it was too late.
The Arachnids had flanked them, and one of them had a clawed hand around Tabby.
Maria had to act fast if she wanted to help her friend. She whipped the sword up in a great arc.
“Let her go!” she boomed.
The Arachnid didn’t listen. His claws tightened around Tabby’s throat, and his fangs protruded from between his dark lips, dripping with venom and thick saliva.
He backed up, boasting to his companion, “I told you I sniffed man flesh. I told ya!”
The other Arachnid made a swipe for Claire, but Claire stumbled and landed on her bottom with a yelp. Sherlock was quick to jump in front of her and snap at the Arachnid’s reaching hand. His jaws clamped, making an audible click—one Maria never would have thought her lovable Bloodhound was capable of. He didn’t make contact with the giant spider, but he had scared him enough to make him withdraw his hand.
Gramps stood by, watching all of this with a patient eye. Maria wanted to shout at him to do something, but she was afraid to take her eyes off of Tabby and the Arachnid for too long.
“Help,” Tabby wheezed. The Arachnid had wrapped his whole arm around her neck. Maria could tell he was squeezing, because Tabby’s pale face began to turn a bright red.
He started to back out of the alleyway, still holding onto her friend.
“Come any closer, and I pop her head off,” the Arachnid warned.
Maria glanced at Gramps.
“Yeah!” the other Arachnid echoed. “Then we’ll eat her! Better yet, take a step forward, my dear. I’m hungry. Been too long since I’ve had man flesh.”
Tabby, struggling, choked out, “I’m…a… woman!”
Suddenly, she raised her right leg forward and kicked back with all the strength she had left in her body. Maria was not sure of the anatomy of an Arachnid, whether they possessed the same things between their legs as the
men of Earth, but apparently Tabby was… Or Tabby just didn't give a fuck, and she was using whatever she could to secure her freedom, even if it meant a low blow.
The Arachnid screamed, throwing his head back, and his mouth opened into a large, black vortex of teeth. Saliva sprayed up into the dark air.
For good measure, Tabby kicked again; this time, the Arachnid dropped her and fell to his knees.
Claire pulled Tabby out of the alley, with Sherlock guarding them the whole way, teeth bared, growling low in the back of his throat.
Gramps and Maria stepped forward; Maria with her sword raised, and Gramps with his wand held as high as his heart, emitting a violent blue light.
“I suggest you run,” he said conversationally. “That is, if you want your lives spared.”
The other Arachnid scrambled toward his friend, who was still howling in pain, having been walloped in the family jewels.
Maria lunged forward, her sword high above her head.
The Arachnid still on his feet fell backward, sending up a cloud of dirt in his wake.
“Be gone!” Gramps yelled. “Crawl back to the hole you’ve come from.” His wand erupted in a flash of light, which he sent skyward. It painted the alley and Arachnids in blue fire, and Maria saw the fear written on their faces.
“This isn’t over,” the injured Arachnid screeched.
Gramps feigned an attack, thrusting his wand out in front of him. The Arachnid jumped backward, still holding the wounded area between his legs.
“That’s for me to decide,” Gramps bellowed. “Pray I don’t change my mind. For I am Ignatius Mangood, destroyer of worlds, slayer of daemons! I squash spiders with the heel of my boots!”
Once more, blue fire escaped Gramps’s wand, and the creatures knew their lives were in jeopardy. They wasted no more time in scrambling up and running into the darkness beyond.
Maria’s jaw hung open. Her grandfather never ceased to amaze her. She turned to him once they were in the clear.
“Where did that come from?” she asked, but she already knew the answer, having seen in Duke’s memory how powerful her grandfather could be. Not to mention how he held his own against the nightmare that was Malakai.
Midwest Magic Chronicles Boxed Set Page 23