The mood in the ice cream shop was heavy. Sherlock hadn’t even gone sniffing around the freezers for drops of melted vanilla or double fudge.
“I’m sure they’re fine,” Maria said. “I’m sure she and the other agent just went on vacation or something.” An odd thought popped into her head. “Maybe they ran away to Vegas and got married!”
Agnes snorted. “Unlikely. Tone and Felah? If that happened, then I’ve lived to see it all,” the old witch said. A smile touched her lips, but there was no humor in it.
“Well, even if they’re not fine for the moment, I’m sure they’ll turn up,” Maria said. She was absent-mindedly stroking Sherlock, whose body was rigid. Is fear doing this? To both of us?
No one said anything for a long moment.
“I’ll go by myself, then,” Maria proclaimed. She stepped forward. “Open a portal.” She gazed around the room for a button. Will it be marked ‘PORTAL’? “How does it work? Do I have to text them or something? Is there an app for it like, you know, Uber?”
“ ‘Uber’?” one of the Muffler twins, Ginny, said. “Now that is a spell I’ve not heard before.”
“No, it’s an…” Maria trailed off. Not worth it. Explaining technology to old people, magical or not, was always a pain. “Never mind.” She looked at Gramps. “I have to go,” she said. “I have to go and find out how to get to the world in between.”
“I can’t let you go on your own,” Gramps said. “But until this business with Malakai is settled, I’m afraid our trip must be delayed.”
Giant man-spiders and portals, oh my.
It was like ripping off a Band-Aid for Maria. The longer she put off leaving, the harder the pain of actually doing it hit her. Pretty soon, she was sure she would chicken out. There had to be a way to open a portal without her grandfather. She was powerful, right?
“I know what you’re thinking,” Gramps said.
“Doesn’t he always?” Salem said.
Agnes chuckled. Just like her smile before, there was no humor in the chuckle.
“Creating a portal to an unknown world can be dangerous, Maria. You would risk your life?” Gramps asked.
“For the village, yes, I would,” Maria answered.
“She is your granddaughter,” Agnes said. “That much is true.”
Ignatius grinned at her. Then he looked at Maria, who was still stroking Sherlock. “Just be patient, Maria.”
“Be patient until we’re attacked by a giant spider? Until we’re possibly dead? How do we know he’s not watching us right now?” Maria said.
“Because I would sense him,” Salem said. He stood up and peered out the window. “Because I would sense such…evil. I’ve been around it all too much in my life, both on Oriceran and Earth. And I’m—” He stopped.
“What is it?” Agnes said.
“Yes, what is it?” the Muffler twins asked in unison. Maria thought their singsong voices were quite creepy.
“It’s…it’s Felah!” Salem shouted. He pressed his face up against the front windows, cupping his hands to shield his view from any light streaming in.
Malakai had watched the ice cream shop in his true form, standing in the window of a now vacant house on Graham Road, just off of Main Street, adjacent to Salem’s. The house had not always been vacant.
It was owned by a newlywed couple, Kevin and Melinda.
Malakai still had their blood on his mouth and claws.
He waited for the portal to open. Surely, he would see the light; that way he would know the music box was definitely there. You didn’t storm a haven of witches and wizards unless you were absolutely sure that what you wanted was inside, or you risked becoming a black stain across the road.
But no portal opened. They were just standing there, talking.
Waiting.
“I am so close, Master,” Malakai said aloud. He knew the Widow would be watching him, and would hear his voice, carried across the worlds. He knew she would not interfere, because he would not fail.
But he could wait no longer. The thought of them opening the portal without him seeing crossed his mind as the minutes rolled on. Have I missed my chance? Will I have to track them to Oriceran, across the vast lands and places where Arachnids are not welcome?
No. He wouldn’t get the chance. If he missed the portal, the Widow would kill him. Again.
Would it be so bad, to die? I could rest. That is where I am supposed to be, not here, not on this sorry excuse for a planet called Earth.
No.
The mission is clear. He was resurrected for one purpose, and he refused to fail; not for the Widow, but for himself.
He closed his eyes and licked the blood away from his claws.
In his head, the words to the spell rolled, and he transformed. He could feel the skin change, the bones move, the hair grow.
Inside, he remained the same. Empty.
He left the house and headed for the shop, looking like Felah Fyre.
Salem threw open the door.
“See?” Maria said, looking at Agnes, Ignatius, and the Muffler twins. “I told you it would all work out.”
Salem was half-hanging out of the door, waving emphatically to Felah. She moved lithely, her head up high, a smile on her face. But still…
There is something wrong with that smile, Maria thought. It’s…off.
“Fine,” Gramps said. “We’ll open the portal. Let’s just make sure Felah is okay.”
“Better wait until she leaves,” Agnes advised. “Salem and I will take her back to the headquarters if she’s hurt.”
Ignatius nodded.
Salem stepped out of the shop and stood on the sidewalk. The door closed, ringing the bell above. Maria turned to head to the back room when Sherlock growled.
Maria stopped in her tracks. “Sherlock?”
He kept growling, looking toward Salem and Felah. They were talking animatedly.
The bad feeling came back.
Maria reached for her sword. She did so on instinct. Gramps was already headed out the front door. He hadn’t heard Sherlock’s growling—old age combined with Sherlock’s low growl didn’t help.
“Gramps,” Maria called sharply.
He stopped and looked over his shoulder. First, confusion passed over his face; then realization that one of his best friends was potentially in danger. He went for the door again, his heart thundering in his chest.
“Salem!” he shouted.
But it was too late.
Felah Fyre changed.
Chapter Sixteen
The front show windows exploded inward, raining pieces of glass all over the inside of the ice cream store. Salem went flying through the air, and he would’ve kept going if a freezer hadn’t stopped his momentum.
Agnes screamed. Something shot through the open window; it looked like a streak of gray lightning. It landed with a splat, and Agnes’s screams were cut off. Maria turned and saw what looked like a rotten spiderweb, plastered over Agnes’s face. Agnes fell backward, bucking and kicking, clawing at the grayness.
It was mayhem. Smoke and dust clouded Maria’s vision, but the sword was on her hip and she drew it.
“Gramps!” she shouted trying to see him through the gloom. He had already rushed to Salem’s side. Maria made her way over there. Ignatius was kneeling next to Agnes. He waved his hand, and the spiderweb around Agnes’s mouth fell free. She took a deep breath.
The Muffler twins screamed as more webs sliced through the air. One struck them at the same time, and they went tumbling to the floor, their legs wrapped up together.
Maria looked back to the broken window. The smoke and fog had settled. She could see the figure standing there. It was enough to freeze her heart, because the figure standing there wasn’t a female wizard anymore. Now it was something unholy, and Maria witnessed the change in all its disgustingness.
The skin bubbled from the bone so far out that it seemed to rip. Maria heard it, even over all the pandemonium.
“It’s
him,” Gramps confirmed. “Maria, stay back.”
From each of the woman’s arms, two more sprouted. Black as midnight, black as death. The stomach zigged and zagged, clothes ripping. Then it burst open, and the rippled abdomen of some dark creature took its place.
Maria’s blood went cold. Her knees locked in place. All the saliva in her mouth dried up, and she couldn’t swallow.
Sherlock no longer growled. Shocked, he said, What in the actual fuck?
Maria wanted to say ‘I don’t know,’ but she couldn’t even bring herself to do that.
Lastly, Felah’s face changed. The eyes bubbled like the skin had, but somehow it was worse…much worse. The pupils stretched until they became translucent and Maria could see the ridged brow beneath. The nose elongated. Fangs sprouted from the grim line that was once Felah’s mouth.
“Cloaking spell,” Agnes sighed. “Should’ve known. How could we be so stupid?” she asked, shaking her head.
Gramps put a hand on her. She held Salem in her lap; his face was scratched and bloody, but Maria noted his chest rising and falling intermittently. He was alive—barely, but still alive.
“It doesn’t matter,” Gramps said gruffly. “What’s done is done. Now I must face the consequences.”
Maria gripped the hilt of her new sword tight. Her palms were slick with sweat. She thrust it out toward Gramps. “Here,” she said. “It’s yours.”
He shook his head. Then he spoke, raising his voice to the abomination standing on the sidewalk in front of him. “Malakai! You are outnumbered. There are six wizards and witches here of great power. It would be wise to turn around and leave.”
The hair on top of Felah’s mutilated scalp fell away. A breeze caught it and took it dancing down the empty dark street, like tumbleweed in a Western film.
The last part of Felah’s pale skin ripped away and the Arachnid beast stood in full view. Maria watched as his mouth opened in reply. “The music box,” he said, his voice very Darth Vader-ish. “That’s all I want.”
“It is not yours,” Ignatius Apple, formerly known as Ignatius Mangood, said. “I don’t want to kill you again.”
Badass line, Sherlock said.
“Quiet,” Maria managed to say.
On the ends of Malakai’s fingers were jagged silver claws. Maria saw bristly hairs on each arm and leg. The creature was naked in the most basic sense, but she saw no sex on him. Just fangs and claws.
She took a step forward. “You heard the man. Get out of here,” she said. Her voice was infused with power. Her skin glowed a darker blue than before, but she didn’t know it. She was angry. Close to that anger, though, was fear.
Malakai threw his head back in laughter. This was not the creature she had seen in Duke’s vision. This creature was more jarring—as if a giant man-like spider wasn’t jarring enough. Malakai was dead already, and you could see it in the way he stood, proud, his chest thrust out, a creature with nothing to lose.
That laughter, when it hit them, sent gooseflesh all up and down their arms.
“I’ve come for more than the box,” Malakai admitted. “I’ve lied. Yes. I guess I’m a liar and a murderer. That precious woman whose skin I wore is long gone. Not even her bones remain. I ate them, too.”
Sickening. I wouldn’t even do that, Sherlock said. And I’ve been known to sniff other dogs’ asses.
Maria was glad Malakai couldn’t hear Sherlock’s thoughts like she could; otherwise she was sure he would’ve been killed a long time ago.
“I’ve come for your head, Ignatius. I’ve come to kill you for what you did to me on Oriceran.”
Gramps turned around, facing Malakai. Maria wanted to reach out to him and stop him before Malakai could attack.
“I did what I had to do, Malakai,” Gramps said. He bent down and placed his hand on Salem’s chest. An odd electric buzz filled the air; Maria’s hair stood on end, and the fur on the back of Sherlock’s neck rose in hackles.
Salem’s eyes flew open. He convulsed and then took a deep breath. Agnes caught him as he lay back down, his chest rising and falling in regular intervals. Maria did not know that Ignatius had just saved the old wizard’s life. The spell he had just summoned was similar to a defibrillator used by EMTs.
“I did what I had to do for Dominion. For the village. And I will do what I have to do for the ones I love,” Ignatius said.
He spun around. Lightning rippled up and down his arm. He thrust his hand outward, and a great burst of white electricity sliced through the air. Maria shielded her eyes.
Malakai cried out as he took the blunt force of the magic square in the chest. He was knocked back a few feet into the street, but he didn’t fall.
Maria didn’t know how. Her jaw hung open.
Shock passed over Gramps’s face—eyes wide, lips parted.
That should’ve sent him back to the Dark Ages, he thought. Oh, he’s more powerful than I thought he’d be. This isn’t good. We are hurt. Salem is down. Agnes’s mind is preoccupied by Salem. The Muffler twins are of no use. And Maria, my dear Maria, she is not ready. Not yet.
Maria stepped forward. The same fear that had settled in her chest now struck Ignatius.
“Maria,” he demanded. “Stay back!”
“No,” she said fiercely.
So much like her mother, he thought, proud, sad, and worried all at once.
Maria took off, with the same blade that had slain Malakai once before held high above her head. Sherlock was at her side, barking ferociously—the dog Ignatius had known to be scared of thunderstorms and, on some occasions, fireworks.
The battle had started, whether Ignatius was ready or not. More blood would be spilt, that much he knew for sure.
But whose blood?
That was the true question.
Maria saw the smoking hole in the giant spider’s chest. Black blood leaked from it. She wondered briefly if something dead could feel pain. According to the anguish on Malakai’s face, she assumed they could.
Good.
Because Malakai had worlds of pain coming to him. The ice cream shop may not have been Maria’s go-to hangout spot, but Gramps and all his friends were her friends, too. They were her tribe. If you messed with Maria’s tribe, there was hell to pay.
She screamed as she ran upon Malakai.
He wants me to fear him. But I won’t let him see my fear.
Her screams were drowned out by Sherlock’s mad barking. A great love for the dog sprouted in her mind. She didn’t fear for her own life anymore; she feared for Sherlock’s, and for her grandfather’s, and for Salem’s, and for all those of the Senior Citizen Magic Brigade.
She had to put an end to it. Their lives were the most important…theirs and the village of Dominion’s.
She thrust the sword out in front of her. Fencing was not her game; she liked kickboxing and the occasional video game. Hell, she watched Game of Thrones, and the swordplay on there looked so intricate and difficult. No way could she be on that level.
But as the sword went out in front of her, and Malakai deflected her first strike, the hopelessness of the situation wasn’t complete. Swordplay apparently came natural to Maria.
She swung again.
Malakai deflected it once more, but a spark came off of his forearm. The chitinous armor of his spider DNA felt like concrete, and each blocked strike reverberated back up into Maria’s arm.
One sword versus six of those spider legs was not a fair fight. As Maria swung for a third time, picturing Luke Skywalker in her mind’s eye, a cold hand closed around her throat. The sharp claws dug into her flesh. She felt blood trickle down her neck.
“Ah—” she gurgled.
Malakai’s laughter boomed like thunder.
“Come any closer, Ignatius, and I pop her head off. You know I can do it.”
“Malakai, please. This is between you and I. Leave Maria out of it.”
Malakai tilted his head. “But it’s not, is it? This one here owns the music box; the music box that w
as stolen from the Arachnids. She is as much a part of the conflict as I am.”
Maria’s face turned from red to purple, slowly edging on black. Her vision went swimmy. Sherlock barked and barked, but the sound grew distant.
Still, she tried to talk. “F-F-F—”
The beast’s eight red eyes, glowing like dying embers, found hers through the darkness.
“What is that?” Malakai asked mockingly. “S-S-S-Spit it out!”
He laughed again.
The force upon her windpipe lessened. Cool night air flooded her lungs, tasting both amazing and bitter. Almost painful.
“Go ahead,” Malakai said. “Say your last words. Make them count. Last words; that’s a pretty big deal. You don’t want to waste them.”
His black lips were turned up into a smile, the fangs dripping venom in thick, pus-like gobs.
“F-F-Fuck you,” Maria said. And with the little bit of strength she had conserved, she kicked out. Her knee connected with the fizzling hole in Malakai’s chest.
It wasn’t much, but it was enough to surprise the Arachnid. He screamed out and his grip around Maria vanished. She still felt phantom fingers there; she always would.
She hit the street with a bone-crushing force that numbed her ass. Sherlock rushed toward her, his eyes wary, never leaving the creature that was bent over in the middle of Main Street.
You okay? Sherlock asked.
“Could be better,” Maria wheezed.
She wasted no time in getting up and finding her sword. When the hilt filled her hand, she felt stronger.
“No, Maria!” Gramps begged. “Run!”
She would never run. It was not in her DNA. Both Maria and Ignatius knew that.
Besides, run or not, the end was near. She could sense it.
“Do you believe her?” Tabby asked Claire. They were inside. Everyone had gone to bed. On the TV, the original Halloween played. Claire wasn’t a huge horror movie buff, but Tabby couldn’t get enough of them.
“I saw her skin glow,” Claire said.
“You don’t think she’s just going crazy like her grandpa?”
Midwest Magic Chronicles Box Set Page 18
