by Joshua Khan
“Just. Wake. Up.”
They were back in the desert of pure, formless Dreamtime. The wind howled, and the sands trembled. Crevasses opened up. Out of the corner of her eye Lily glimpsed other dreams. Farmers with fat cows and fields full of tall crops. Plain men marrying the village beauty. Village beauties marrying princes. Old women dancing at fairs, young and nimble once more, and children being heroes, slaying monsters with magic swords in a world without grown-ups.
“The dreams are fading. They’re waking up…” said Lily.
How many? Just a few? Or all of them?
Gabriel knelt in the sand, clawing at it in despair. “Please, I want it back. Just for a little while longer.”
Lily helped him get to his feet. He looked miserable. “It’s time to face reality,” she said.
And then Lily woke up.
Mary snoozed in the armchair, head down on her chest and hands neatly folded on her lap.
Just like old times. Whenever she or Dante had gotten sick, Mary would park herself there and look after them.
Some things never change. The best things.
Lily struggled to get her sluggish body moving. The bed creaked as she swung her feet over the side, toes searching for her slippers.
Custard barked and jumped onto her lap.
Mary jerked awake. She blinked, then saw Lily. She pounced across the room and hugged her. “You had me worried, girl.”
“I’m all right. Help me up, Mary.”
“You stay put. You need to rest. I’ll have some food brought up.”
“I’ve been doing nothing but resting.” She stood up. Wow. Why was the floor tilting like that? “How long was I asleep?”
Mary steadied her. “A day.”
A day. A lot could happen in a day.
As if sensing her question, Mary nodded grimly. “The cloud ship drifted over Devil’s Knoll this morning, dropping those spiders. Never seen anything like it. The ground looks like it’s covered in diamonds.”
So the battle had begun. Lily straightened, fixing her resolve for what lay ahead. “Then?”
“Old Colm gathered every man and boy he could, as well as some of the older girls, and gave them each a weapon. Then the storm hit and…who knows. That was an hour ago.”
“What about Golgoth?”
Mary shrugged. “He’s out there, too, but people were flooding in through Barrow’s Gate screaming that there was an army of trolls at their heels. Sir Grimsoul took what was left of the Black Guard and rode off to face them.”
More bad news. She’d not thought the trolls would get through Spindlewood so quickly. “Summon Thorn. We need to talk.”
“He’s gone, Lily,” said Mary worriedly.
“Gone? Where?” Then she realized. Thorn wouldn’t have just sat around, waiting for her to wake. “He went looking for Weaver, didn’t he?”
“You’re both as bad as each other.”
“I try to do the right thing, Mary. But each decision I make only seems to make matters worse. Thorn said I was too arrogant, and he was right. I walked straight into Weaver’s trap, and I’m afraid I’ve sent Thorn straight into one as well.”
Mary fidgeted with a hairbrush. “I wouldn’t count him out just yet. He’ll surprise us, you wait and see.”
She cupped Mary’s face. “You always know what to say. I’ve missed you.”
Mary’s cheeks warmed as she blushed.
Lily looked around. “The Mantle of Sorrows—where is it?”
“In the dressing room.”
“I need it.”
“Of course.” Mary put the hairbrush in Lily’s hand. “Now make yourself look presentable.”
“Mary, there’s a war going on. Why do I need to brush my hair?”
“Because there’s a war going on. You need to show everyone that no matter what’s happening, you are Lady Shadow and ruler of Castle Gloom.”
Lily started brushing.
Even from deep inside the castle, with no windows, Lily heard the howling gale. In the distance, doors slammed and tiles rattled. She predicted that by tomorrow a few of the older, less robust towers would be leaning a bit more, if they didn’t fall down.
If I’m still here tomorrow.
The thought hit her hard. Today would decide the future of Gehenna.
She missed her father desperately. She needed him to tell her what to do, what to say. He’d fought dozens of battles, hundreds. He knew about strategy and tactics, and he could lead a cavalry charge and fight with both sword and spell.
But a door guarded by demons separated her from him. No hammer, no battering ram could open it, only the Skeleton Key. What if she never got it back? What if he stayed trapped in the Shadow Library?
“What shall I do, Custard?” If she left Gloom, he’d have to stay behind, too. The ghost puppy couldn’t leave the castle; none of the ghosts could, including her father. Weaver would have everything she loved.
No, she’d never let that happen. She would not let Weaver win. “I’ll never leave you.”
Mary returned with the Mantle of Sorrows, and Lily slipped it on. It was heavy, much heavier than she remembered.
Hobnailed boots beat on the stairs outside before the door burst open and, huffing and cheery, in stormed Dott. “Prin’ess is up!”
She hoisted Lily into her arms. Custard barked at their feet, caught up in the excitement.
“Put her down, you great big elephant! You’ll crush her!” shouted Mary.
Dott stopped immediately and down Lily went. Dott looked sheepish. “Sorry ’bout swingin’ prin’ess, Mary.”
Mary bristled. “I was…concerned, that’s all. Someone sensible has to look after Lily since she’s surrounded by oafs and imbeciles. But you are a good friend to her, Dott.”
The troll beamed.
Lily stood between them, swelling with happiness. With Mary on her right, Dott on her left, and Custard at her heels, she suddenly felt real hope.
They made their way out of her chambers and down toward the Great Hall.
“We’ve crammed everyone we could in there, and Merrick’s entertaining them.” Mary dusted off Lily’s shoulders as they walked. “Who would have thought he’d be any use?”
Despite the thick walls, she heard the song.
Dott started clapping, joining in. “Old Duke Longsword!”
“You know,” said Lily, “I don’t think the song’s actually about a—”
Mary cleared her throat. “Let’s not worry about that right now.” She reached for the door handle.
Lily stopped her. “Let’s go by Oblivion stairs. I…I can’t go through there.”
“This is much quicker.”
“But everyone’s in there.” Lily pulled Mary away. “Mary, it’s all my fault.”
“What is?”
“All this. It’s the curse of me using magic. They were right. Ever since I cast a spell, it’s been one disaster after another. That’s why Weaver’s come, and the trolls. I’ve destroyed Gehenna, Mary.” She looked at the door, imagining all the people on the other side. People who’d lost family, their homes, everything. “They must hate me.”
“You think this is because you used magic?” Mary held her hand.
“Isn’t it?”
Mary scowled. “Listen here, Lilith Shadow. You have nothing to be ashamed of. If people can’t see the good you’ve done, then they can go to the Pit for all I care. I’m proud of you. Your father’s proud of you, and if I know anything about Thorn, we’ll be seeing his smug dirty face before the day’s out. The boy’s as canny and as brave as they come.” She held Lily’s hand and wrapped her fingers firmly around hers. “Now we’re going through this door and right down the middle of the Great Hall so everyone, and I mean everyone, can see you.”
With that said, Mary gave a sharp nod, and Dott pushed the door open.
The singing stopped as Lily entered. Children were hushed, and all eyes turned toward her.
Gehenna was under attack. The enemy wa
s at the gates of Castle Gloom. And it was her job to protect them. Not just their lives today, but their homes and livelihoods for all the days that followed.
Why her? They all stared at her as if she had the answers. She didn’t. Not one.
The men were missing and some of the younger women. All that remained here were the old, the children, and the mothers.
“The Six Princes protect you, m’lady!” shouted someone.
“Long live House Shadow!” called another.
More joined the cry. Their shouts grew and grew within the hall, the echoes doubling their voices until it seemed as though the stones themselves called her name.
People reached out to touch her, and Lily passed through a gauntlet of soft hands and gentle fingers.
Mary guided Lily out into the main corridor. “You give them hope, Lily.”
“Is that enough?”
Mary took her hand as they faced the main door. “There’s only one way to find out.”
Lily stepped out and faced her first battle.
Thorn dangled in the air, a marionette suspended over a hole. The cobwebs encased his wrists, and strands trapped his ankles. He swung in tempo with the movement of the cloud ship.
He shivered, and it wasn’t just because of the freezing wind funneling up through the hole. Jewel spiders scrabbled over him, their horrible spiky legs poking his flesh, scratching his skin. One tiny creature had crept into his ear to have a look. Thorn had managed to shake it out, but the sensation was horrible. He hated spiders now.
The night gave way to a pale, feeble morning. The sun couldn’t be seen through the walls of the cloud ship but filled it with a pearly glow.
The jewel spiders began leaving the webs. Thorn could guess why.
They were gathering for the final assault.
“Good, you’re awake.”
Neck stiff, Thorn still managed to twist it enough to see Weaver shuffle up with a few of his guards.
“Come to gloat?” asked Thorn.
“Do you not take pride in your accomplishments?”
“You ain’t sitting in the Great Hall yet, Weaver,” Thorn answered, and he was rewarded by a scowl from the dream thief.
“Can’t you see victory is inevitable?”
“Nope, can’t see nothing from here. You cut me free, and maybe the view’ll be better.”
Weaver laughed. He nodded to one of his soldiers. “Release his ankles.”
Two slashes of the sword freed Thorn’s legs, and Weaver gave him a push, swinging Thorn over the hole. “Enjoying the view now?”
Thorn gulped. Somehow heights felt so much higher without Hades.
“I don’t want you to miss anything.” Weaver tapped his crystal staff on the floor. “Shall we begin?”
Long, twisted tears formed in the cloud material below him. The jewel spiders piled on one another, and down through the gaps they tumbled, wave after wave, forming a sparkling waterfall of diamonds, rubies, sapphires, and amber, all the bright treasures of the jeweler’s trade. Their bodies chimed as they collided, bouncing down through the air to vanish into the thick cloud, dangling from their threads.
Thorn pulled against his bonds. Somewhere down there were Lily, Wade, Mary, Old Colm, dozens of others he knew, and hundreds he didn’t. There were the undead, like Tom, and the living, like Tom’s wife, Kath, and their children, trying to make a better life for themselves.
He had to do something!
Weaver laughed his horrible, rasping, cruel laugh. “How very heroic. And futile.”
The cloud ship trembled. A wall ripped open, and a powerful wind blasted through. A guard, sword drawn, stumbled as the hole in the floor grew wider, sending cracks running in three directions. He screamed when the ship tilted, as though hit by a giant wave, and he dropped his sword as he tried to grab hold of something. But the floor kept on slanting, and the tear expanded. With a wild cry he was gone, practically sucked through the crack.
“What’s happening?” yelled Weaver.
The webs shook violently. Jewel spiders scuttled in all directions as the prisoners began to thrash and tear themselves free. Thorn saw a young woman dangling from the silver spider silk, shaking and moaning. She was blinking as she woke from a deep sleep.
Another wall crumbled, and a flurry of snow suddenly filled the chamber.
The cloud ship was breaking apart.
Weaver hooked his crippled arm through a loop in the nearest web and hung on for dear life. “She’s waking them,” he snarled. “She’s waking them!” He stared as the webs trembled with awakening dreamers. “No…” He turned and scurried off with his guards.
Thorn smiled grimly. He should have known. Lily had come through. Like she always did.
Now it’s my turn.
His gaze fell on the sword that had been dropped by the guard.
Thorn swung toward it. He stretched but didn’t quite reach. If he were as tall as Wade, he’d have it!
Thorn put all his strength into the next swing. “Come on….” He lurched forward and reached out. His foot touched the hilt. Yeah! One more time…
Chimes alerted Thorn to a fresh danger.
A jewel spider was coming. It must have picked up his movements.
One more big swing…
He hooked his right boot under the sword hilt, then carefully did the same with his left. Pressing them together, he slid the blade up. Thorn curled, raising his feet to his right hand. His felt the sword slipping between his feet. He snapped his legs upward, and the sword jumped the last few inches into his hand.
The jewel spider swung down, but with a flick of the blade Thorn snapped off its crystal head. Then he twisted as best he could and hooked the tip of the sword around the bindings on his left wrist. The razor-sharp edge sliced the webbing easily.
A moment later, he dropped onto the shaking floor.
Would Weaver be able to restore the magic? The spiders were already biting people, sending them back into the Dreamtime.
Thorn tightened his grip on his sword. There was only one way to win.
He had to sink the cloud ship.
Thorn ran up to one of the struggling wakers and slashed at the threads. The man grunted his thanks as he came free.
“Help the others,” Thorn told him. “And tell the strongest to get hacking. Do it before they’re bitten again.”
The webs pulsed erratically. But Thorn guessed it wouldn’t be long before Weaver regained control and the dream magic returned in full force. Was it his imagination, or was the cloud ship already beginning to level out?
“You, peasant! Help me!”
Oh no…
Thorn lowered his head and kept walking.
“I know you heard me! I’m up here, and I demand you free me! Now!”
Forty feet above him dangled Gabriel.
The boy was twisting savagely, but all he’d managed to do was get even more knotted. Thorn sighed and began climbing.
“About time,” complained Gabriel. “Cut me free, and be quick about it. And watch out for the silk sleeves. You so much as tear a thread, you’ll be paying for a new shirt.”
Thorn gritted his teeth, resisting the urge to cut Gabriel’s precious shirt into shreds.
“Can’t you go any quicker?”
“Shut your mouth, Gabriel, or I’m leaving you here.”
“You shall address me as ‘m’lord,’ peasant.”
“Shut your mouth, m’lord.”
Gabriel opened it to say something stupid; then that little brain of his overruled it. For once.
Thorn slashed the cords, and the two boys clambered down. “Now what?” asked Gabriel. “I assume you have a plan for getting us off?”
“Yeah. All you gotta do is jump. Just make sure you land on something soft. Like your head.”
Thorn stared at the webs, glowing brightly with dream magic. The cloud ship was definitely repairing itself.
He had to destroy the webs themselves, but for that he needed Hades.
&nbs
p; Where was he?
“Hades!” Thorn yelled.
Gabriel grabbed his arm. “What are you doing?”
“Trying to find my—”
Then the wall before him shook so hard that it evaporated into thousands of puffs of mist, and the floor flipped so it was a wall, sending Thorn tumbling. He slid along the floor, saw a flash of silver, and grabbed it. The sudden jolt almost pulled his arm off, but he was glad he did it nevertheless; he realized he was now hanging over a thousand-foot drop.
“Help!” Gabriel yelled. The Solar boy was clinging onto the web with his arms and knees wrapped around the strands.
Thorn ignored him. Gabriel was fine for now.
From his current position, Thorn could see that the web was huge, spreading hundreds of feet in all directions. There were people everywhere, some struggling, others still fast asleep. The thread hummed loudly and great beads of light raced along them: red, gold, yellow, blue, and dozens of other colors and shades.
And to his left was a massive cocoon of spider silk.
A giant bat–sized cocoon.
The tip of a wing poked out. He saw the edge of an ear. The lump twisted; unlike most, this captive was wide-awake.
Thorn crawled carefully over the web, trying not to worry about the gaps and the long drop. The web shuddered, and his movements didn’t help. Once or twice it trembled so violently he thought he’d be flipped off, but he hung on, sword tucked in his belt.
He put his hand against the lumpy cocoon, feeling the bristles that were sticking through it. “Don’t fidget. I’m cutting you free.”
He set to work.
Thankfully the sword sliced easily through spider thread. The trouble was, there was a lot of thread, much of it thicker than anchor rope.
“You, peasant!” shouted Gabriel.
Thorn ignored him.
“Peasant!”
“I’m busy!”
Hades’s head was beginning to break free, but there was still so much webbing. How many spiders had it taken to trap Hades? Thousands?
Hades hissed angrily.
“I’m going as fast as I can.” He pulled off another tangle of spiderweb, and Hades began working his right wing loose. Hades widened his jaws and shook off the last of the spider silk around his mouth. He twisted and tugged frantically.