“Yes.” The Slashing Hero twirled his sword over his head, then by his side, then thrusting forward, mimicking a fierce battle. “We will cleanse the land of all of these abominations.”
“You don’t remember.” The Chittering Underground turned her plaintive eyes to the Growl in the Night. “Think about how you entered the shadows in the first place. Remember what she—”
“I was always in the shadows, but no more.” The Growl in the Night stood on his hind legs; his bulk grew until he matched his sister’s daunting presence. He lifted his head even further and released a howl that shook the earth, cracked the very rock upon which he stood, and caused the trees to bend or break in the face of his forcefulness.
The Chittering Underground backed into her burrow to escape the onslaught of noise, but as she went, she whispered to her children, and thousands and thousands of scurrying legs left the Woods, unnoticed.
Chapter 98
The door handle slapped loudly on the wood of the chair. A high-pitched, grating sound emanated from the chair’s legs. The door began to open.
Matt leaped to the blocking chair and pushed with his legs, his arms, and his heart, but the damage had been done; a weakness in the blockade had been found. He could no longer hold back the invasion.
“What were you thinking?” His mother’s voice joined in with Mrs. Hensley’s.
“Do you know what could have happened?” Mrs. Hensley rushed to her son’s side.
“You’re coming with me!” His mother took him by the arm and pulled toward the door.
“No!” Matt pleaded, “Please, I have to finish the story. I have to.”
“Stories!” Mrs. Hensley snatched the notebook from Matt’s hands. “That’s what this is about? Those stories you two are always writing?”
“Yes!” Matt wiggled free from his mother’s grip. “Please, I know you don’t understand, but—”
“You locked me out of my son’s hospital room,” Mrs. Hensley said with anger and sadness. “Just so you could read these stories? Why?”
“It’s the best chance,” Matt said. The faces of those around him prompted his imagination. They were not getting it. They didn’t understand. He needed to convince them. “You don’t understand the stories—I get that—but John…there was nothing more important to him than these stories. If anything can bring him back to us, it’s those.” He pointed to the notebook in Mrs. Hensley’s tense fist. “He wrote them when he was sick, when he was hurting, when he was so sad that he didn’t want to go outside. He wrote. Don’t you see? He wrote.”
Mrs. Hensley turned away quickly. Her free hand covered her mouth.
“Five minutes,” Matt said. “I just need five more minutes.” He looked at the clock and realized that there were only two more minutes until…
Mrs. Hensley held the notebook out to him, her face still turned toward the window.
Matt returned to his position at John’s side. He turned the pages of the notebook, pausing at one story before he flipped to a blank page. He took a pen from his pocket and began to write.
Chapter 99
A Confrontation
She walked through Creativity like an ill wind bringing destruction. Nothing escaped her angry gaze. She watched new Aspects, whose names she abhorred and would not utter, work in stories she found vulgar, insipid, and utterly devoid of Creative value.
Still, she walked, noting how the Eternal Gloaming was lighter than usual—just a shade, but she noticed. She noted how the moon was higher in the sky than it used to be—just a slight change, but she noticed. This is all because of the new stories, she told herself, then screamed into the Woods. The trees shivered.
“Mother.” The Growl in the Night stepped from the shadows completely into the light. “I have come to help you.”
“You? How can you possibly help me?” Her words were vicious, like daggers rending her son’s flesh.
The Growl in the Night stood his ground. “I have grown with the retelling. I am more powerful now than even in the oldest stories.”
Erde turned her gaze fully upon her son. It was true that he was stronger. The thing in the shadows had become much more than an unseen beast. He was the unseen threat from within as well as without. He was everything that might bring harm, be it beast or disease or outsider, and his influence had indeed grown.
“I wish to help too.” The Slashing Hero stepped forward. Erde looked at him, a newer creation but much older than these upstart abominations. He was still the moral hero filled with righteous indignation against anything contrary to the norm. He would kill rampaging beasts, and he would just as easily kill infidels.
“The two of you, that is all?” Erde twirled around in a quick circle. “In all of Creation, there are only you two that still adhere to my teachings? What of your sister?”
“I am here!” The Chittering Underground attacked. Filaments shot out from every direction, from every branch of every tree, from every inch of the ground, from every dim and hidden corner. They coalesced, these silken strings, forming a web, then a wall, then a sphere. Still, the filaments flew. The Growl in the Night howled, clawing at the ground and the trees, but the filaments continued to fly. The Slashing Hero slashed at the air, the branches of trees, but the filaments continued to fly.
Erde disappeared under the weight of the Chittering Underground’s assault. A gleaming white globe continuing to grow in the place she had been. Still, the filaments flew. The Chittering Underground added her own filament now. The thickness, the brightness, the beauty of the sphere grew much faster. Then, as suddenly as it had begun, the attack ended. The Chittering Underground retreated rather than face her brother. Her children scurried to safety. The Woods grew silent.
“What have you done?” The Growl in the Night turned his claws to the sphere. He clawed in vain, making no noticeable change. His sister’s webs were unbreakable when she meant them to be. The Slashing Hero made an impotent attempt as well. “Mother!” the Growl in the Night shouted at the globe. There was no response.
“We should track down the—” The Slashing Hero’s words were interrupted by a whooshing of wind at his throat. The blind, unreasoning rage of the beast gained full expression and was aimed at his unsuspecting ally. Spewing, spurting red life pooled around the fallen hero, but the Growl in the Night’s rage was not diminished. Teeth, claws, and hatred rendered the armored man a collection of parts strewn around the forest floor. The parts were just beginning to knit themselves back together as the beast stood and stared at the impenetrable sphere. He glanced down at the Slashing Hero’s arm fusing with his torso. A pair of furious eyes fluttered open as a leg affixed itself to its proper place.
“When you pull yourself back together, make yourself useful and guard Erde.” The Growl in the Night placed a stained paw on the pristine prison. “I will free you, Mother. I vow this.” The Eternal Gloaming grew very dim as the Growl in the Night joined once more with the darkness of the Woods.
Chapter 100
An Untold Tale
Spiders flooded into the Inn at the Edge of the Woods. They scurried around table legs, painting the floor with their black bodies. Everyone sat or stood very still until one spider found its way to Baba Vedma’s ear.
“The Chittering Underground has attacked Erde.” Baba Vedma’s voice was calm and controlled, which surprised her even more than those who heard the news. “A web prison.”
“That will buy us some time.” The Sister of Monsters nodded toward the spider and then toward the mass on the floor. “Thank you for the message. Please, go and protect yourselves.” The floor became its usual shade of dirty brown as the spiders dissipated.
“What do we do now?” Frau Iver looked to Baba Vedma.
The old woman thought for a moment. There was an idea. The hope in it was slight, and the impossibility was great, but the necessity was most prominent. “You will do nothing.” Baba Vedma turned to the Sister of Monsters and nodded. “We will take it from here.”
There was a slight commotion as the others protested. “We are full members of the Council of Aspects,” Frau Iver reminded Baba Vedma as she pointed to herself, the Toy Peddler, and the Puppeteer. “We should be included in any action this important.”
“And we should include the newer Aspects,” the Toy Peddler interjected. “We promised them a voice in Creation too.”
The Sister of Monsters felt a tug at the very back corner of her consciousness. It was a sensation she had never— No, that wasn’t true; she had felt it before. She remembered suddenly that the feeling used to be an ever-present force. Now, it was barely a tickle. She stared into Baba Vedma’s eyes. The old woman held her gaze, and there was peril in her eyes. “Tell us why just the two of us,” the Sister of Monsters said.
Baba Vedma sighed, dropping her eyes. “There be a tale, as old as the First Story, possibly older. There be no way to really know for sure which be older.”
“Older than the First Story?” The Puppeteer laughed. “Isn’t the name a giveaway which one is older?”
“It is a hidden story, an untold tale,” Baba Vedma continued as though the Puppeteer had not spoken. “I don’t even know the subject of the tale. I’m not sure anyone knows, but I do know one thing…” the old woman’s voice became encased with intrigue.
The Sister of Monsters waited for her to continue as long as her little girl curiosity could stand. “What is it you know about this untold tale?”
Baba Vedma looked at the little girl’s orb-like eyes as if being pulled unwillingly from a dream. “I know…” She hesitated. “I know that it involves Erde and…” She faltered. “The two of us.”
“A story about Erde, Baba Vedma, and the Sister of Monsters?” Frau Iver swallowed hard, and a chill wind blew through the Inn.
“That does seem odd.” The Toy Peddler cocked his head to the side as if he were straining to hear a distant piece of music.
“I’d pay to hear that story.” The Puppeteer tried to laugh but couldn’t even conjure a giggle.
“We will go find this story and read it.” Baba Vedma took the Sister of Monster’s hand. “It be our best chance now.”
“What should the rest of us do?” Frau Iver resisted the urge to argue.
The question hung in the air as Baba Vedma and the Sister of Monsters walked hand-in-hand through the door of the Inn.
The Puppeteer stood up on his stool and held his mug high in the air. He downed the entire drink and then exclaimed, “Well, I, for one, am gonna drink while I wait to be unmade!” The Innkeeper paused for just a bit, an unwelcome thought stealing his focus, before bringing another round.
Chapter 101
A Coming War
The Chittering Underground crouched in a small dark corner of her burrow and listened to the screams of her children, borne in by an angry wind from the woods. She saw with her many eyes and through the many eyes of her children that the Growl in the Night was clawing at the silken strands of her web. She saw the Slashing Hero cut and tear at those same strands. She saw her children, her brave, loyal children, dive from limbs and branches, dart from underbrush and bramble, and replace the lost strands as quickly as they were cut.
Her children died by the dozens, slashed by the hero or clawed by the beast, but still, they persisted. They kept the sphere intact, the prison secure, but for how long? They were dying, her children. She felt each death like a pinprick directly to her heart, but she stayed with each and every one.
Finally, just before the moment she had decided to tell her children to retreat, the Growl in the Night stopped clawing, the Slashing Hero stopped slashing, and her children were able to build the web-prison thicker. She listened through the ears of her children.
“This is pointless,” the Growl in the Night hissed, grabbing the Slashing Hero’s sword arm mid-swing. “We’ll never be able to kill every spider in Creativity.”
“Our mother will be free!” The Slashing Hero, in the thrall of battle rage, still angry about the Growl in the Night’s attack, swung his sword once more. It glanced off of the very solid silken sphere. “What other way is there?”
“We take the battle to the source.” The Growl in the Night bounded away, taking just a moment to squash one more spider before melding into the shadows.
The Slashing Hero reluctantly sheathed his weapon and followed.
The Chittering Underground let out a sigh and briefly turned her attention to her children elsewhere in the woods, where she might find more tangible hope. Dozens of eyes watched the Sister of Monsters and Baba Vedma leave the Inn at the Edge of the Woods. According to the twittering of several of her children, they had a plan but would need time.
Chittering, loud and frantic, filled the air, destroying all concentration from outside the burrow. The Growl in the Night and the Slashing Hero were coming. They were advancing quickly, too quickly, killing every child they met along the way.
A hundred and ten of her children took it upon themselves to erect a web-wall, hoping to slow their progress. Ninety-six of them paid with their lives, and the Slashing Hero made quick work of the barrier.
The Chittering Underground sent instructions toward the web-prison and told her children the wall was a good idea but to protect themselves as well. A dozen new walls were quickly erected, but the children retreated as soon as the walls were finished. The Chittering Underground checked once more. Her children were safe for the most part, and she was free to fight. She retreated further into her burrow and awaited the invasion.
Chapter 102
A Secret Cave
“So, where do we start?” The Sister of Monsters pulled her hand away from Baba Vedma, her mind filled with questions, the least of which was why the old woman had taken her hand in the first place.
Baba Vedma reluctantly released the little girl’s hand. “There be a cave.”
“I hope you know which one this time.”
“Not with the other caves. A lost cave. A secret cave.”
“Okay.” The Sister of Monsters tried to suppress her questions to no avail. “What’s going on here?”
Baba Vedma quickened her pace, rapidly outpacing the little girl’s stride. The Sister of Monsters stopped and concentrated. Her sisters in the trees responded, and a wall of silk appeared before the old crone.
“Talk! Now!” the Sister of Monsters demanded.
Baba Vedma turned and gazed into the red-tinged orbs of the little girl. She exhaled. “We don’t have time for this.”
“Make time.” The anger flared, threatening to spill out of the Sister of Monsters’ eyes and burn the woods to the ground.
“Inside the cave be a lost story, an untold tale.” Baba Vedma bowed ever so slightly. “I think it be the answer to our current problems.”
“What’s in the story?”
Baba Vedma shrugged. “I told ye this already. No one knows. I don’t think even Erde remembers.”
“How do you even know about it? Tell me everything.”
“Ye know what I know already. The story, this untold tale, be about us, the two of us and Erde. That much I know. That’s all I know.”
“That’s not a lot to go on.”
“Aye, but it be what we have.”
The Sister of Monsters sidestepped the spiders’ wall and walked alone into the woods. The old woman held out a trembling finger and stroked the nearest spider gently on the head. “We be moving as fast as we can. Hold on.” She looked at the path. It was dark, much darker than she would have liked, and it was dangerous, much more dangerous than she had hoped. The world around her was beautiful, more beautiful than she had ever known it to be, and it would be difficult to let go of it.
The Eternal Gloaming looked on as Baba Vedma regained the lead. The Sister of Monsters eyed the old woman suspiciously as they walked. Baba Vedma concealed her face as best she could, the secret she held weighing on her so much that she was sure her eyes betrayed everything. The Gloaming Woods shuddered as they walked into a familiar untravelled clearing.
“We be close.” Baba Vedma pointed to a patch of blackness in the heart of the shadows near the center of the meadow. Wildflowers fluttered in the dim light, bowed their heads to the travelers, and released their scent to the wind. Grass, verdant and thick, tickled the Sister of Monsters as she walked, and a thought came to fruition.
“This story…” The Sister of Monsters eased into the question, unsure of her need to know. “You say it is about the three of us?”
“Aye, it be.” The patch of darkness was so close now.
“Why the three of us?”
The question hung in the flower-scented air, settled into the tall grass, and hid among the natural chaos of the meadow. Baba Vedma turned, her face a near perfect imitation of calm until she bit her lip. Her words fell heavily. “Ye already know the answer.”
The Sister of Monsters face began to contort with confusion but stopped mid-way. Serenity, a tacit acceptance, slowly etched along the fierce features of the girl’s countenance. Silence accompanied them as Baba Vedma made the first step into the darkness at the center of the meadow.
Chapter 103
War
The mouth of the burrow was guarded by three thousand of the Chittering Underground’s most loyal children; they all fell before the savagery of the Growl in the Night and the brutality of the Slashing Hero. The invaders entered the burrow.
Silk adorned walls, jagged, sharp, and ominous, greeted them in the barely lit cave. The Growl in the Night did not hesitate, so used to the shadows was he, but the Slashing Hero was forced to wait until his eyes adjusted. He stood alone until the shadowy dark became misty twilight; then he stepped forward. The children were not defeated yet.
Innumerable skittering legs clawed, scratched, and stabbed at the man’s legs, torso, head, and face. He slashed as the Slashing Hero was wont to do, but to no avail; these children barely had substance beyond grasping mandibles and piercing fangs. The contents of thousands of venom glands coursed through the Slashing Hero, who was quickly becoming just a man, a man in blinding, excruciating pain.
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