An Unwelcome Quest (Magic 2.0 Book 3)

by Scott Meyer

  Jimmy peeked back over his shoulder just long enough to see that the massive spider was following him. Now he just had to think of something to do with it.

  As if on cue, Phillip shouted, “Bring it here!”

  Phillip had seen Jimmy’s dismount from the tree. It gave him an idea. The spiders were maintaining a given distance from him. What if he moved? More to the point, what if he moved to the corner of the roof? On flat ground he could never leap over the spiders. There were just too many. If he could get to the corner of the cottage, though, half the spiders would be clinging to the side like Jimmy’s spiders had been clinging to the tree. Then he might be able to jump off the building to the clean ground below. Then he would probably sprain his ankle, fall to the ground, and be surrounded by the spiders again, but it was something to do, and if he managed not to injure himself, he could help save Tyler.

  It hadn’t come to that. By the time Phillip worked this out and made his way to the edge, pausing a couple of times to fight off the attacking single-file spiders, Jimmy had taken one of Strathisla’s legs, and now Strathisla planned to take Jimmy’s life.

  Phillip got Jimmy’s attention, and Jimmy ran straight toward Phillip’s position. Phillip glanced at Gary. What he saw was more encouraging than he’d hoped. Gary had clearly watched Phillip and understood what he was doing. Gary was standing at the front edge of the roof he’d claimed, and nodded when he saw Phillip look his way.

  Jimmy led Strathisla directly beneath Phillip’s perch, followed by a black wave of spiders. Now that their leader was injured, they were all attempting to help it, or kill Jimmy. Either way, they were leaving Tyler alone.

  Phillip watched the spider’s approach carefully. It was having a great deal of difficulty walking straight. Jimmy had cut off the lower two-thirds of one of its right legs and had injured one joint on another. Phillip pictured his trajectory in his mind’s eye, adjusted his grip on his sword, holding it like a small oar; then, when the moment was right, he acted.

  Phillip didn’t leap so much as fall feetfirst while spinning 180 degrees. He landed on his rear, just to the right of the spider’s center, with his feet extending down between Strathisla’s right-third and right-rear legs. As he slid down the spider’s side, his sword, driven by his momentum, pushed one of Strathisla’s remaining right legs into Phillip, then, with a little effort, sheared it off.

  Phillip fell to the ground, rolling to absorb the force. The leg flopped forward and tangled with the two remaining working legs on that side.

  Strathisla’s substantial weight was now supported unevenly, by four functioning legs on one side and one and a half legs on the other. It staggered and spun in a panic. Phillip crawled and scrambled through the forest of lurching legs, emerging to stand next to Jimmy. Now, together, they yelled and cursed and jabbed at the spider with their swords while the sea of smaller spiders advanced; then the two men took off running, Strathisla chasing them as best it could.

  Strathisla’s difficulty in turning to the left made leading it in front of Gary’s shed a bit difficult, but they managed it.

  Gary considered trying to impale and kill the spider outright in one blow but decided it was too risky when they already had a plan that was working. Instead, he again followed Phillip’s lead, bouncing off the spider’s back before falling to the ground, followed by the spider’s last fully intact right leg, then the spider itself.

  The right side of Strathisla’s body rested on the ground, its four pristine left legs struggling to lift the spider, and its one damaged front leg lamely scratching at the ground, unable to even come close to supporting its share of the huge body’s weight.

  Gary looked to Phillip and Jimmy and asked, “You got this?” Then he sprinted to go de-web Tyler before Phillip was done saying “Yeah.”

  Tyler’s instructions to attack at the leg joints had worked out pretty well, so Phillip and Jimmy followed his second directive, to go for the eyes as another weak point. It was a grisly but effective technique. It wasn’t long before Strathisla stopped thrashing and started twitching.

  The smaller spiders had followed the action in an orderly manner and kept their distance during the battle with Strathisla, but the instant the large spider seemed to die they flew into some sort of blind panic. They chittered, they ran in circles, they climbed over one another, piling up to four spiders deep in places. They didn’t attack Phillip or Jimmy. The men were like two bewildered palm trees on an island amid a violent sea. Then, all at once, the smaller spiders stopped moving, chittering, or even holding their bodies off the ground. They all fell, as a unit, silently, to the ground.

  Phillip gently poked at one of the small spiders with his foot. The spider’s limp legs dragged behind as Phillip’s boot pushed its torso along the ground. It was like kicking an extremely disturbing stuffed animal.

  Phillip said, “It’s dead.”

  Tyler said, “Not dead enough.” Gary had cut him free, and he was unharmed physically, but he seemed shaken. He’d probably have spider-themed nightmares for years to come, but that was a problem for later.

  Gary said, “You ever see a horror movie where the monster was dead the first time it looked dead? No, the spider’s not dead yet. It’s still got at least one more round in it.”

  Jimmy looked at Strathisla’s face, slack and lifeless, with the handles of his and Phillip’s swords protruding from its eyes like toothpicks stuck in two extremely unappetizing olives. “I dunno,” he said. “Looks pretty dead to me.”

  Tyler said, “Gary’s right, it doesn’t matter. Try this. You two killed it, right? Phillip, you announce that it’s dead; then you and Jimmy turn your back and start to walk away.”

  Phillip shrugged and said, “It is dead.” He and Jimmy theatrically turned their backs to the hulking corpse and started walking away, through the sea of foot-sized spiders. Jimmy patted Phillip on the back and said, “Good job, killing that thing.”

  Phillip replied, “Nice touch.”

  The spiders through which they were wading suddenly started moving, parting around their feet, leaving the customary clear zone around the two. Behind them they heard a low, rasping noise and then the sound of giant spider feet scraping and clawing at the ground. They turned and saw that, as Tyler had predicted, Strathisla was still alive, and madder than ever.

  Of course, it was still missing three and a half legs, and both of its eyes were out of commission as well, so it could do little more than thrash around and sound angry, but still, it was unnerving.

  Jimmy said, “Oh, let me get that.” He stepped forward, grabbed the handle of his sword, which was protruding from Strathisla’s left eye, and twisted it clockwise, ninety degrees.

  Strathisla fell limp, as if Jimmy’s sword were an off switch, which, in a sense, it was.

  The smaller spiders again fell dead, but this time, instead of just lying there, they slowly faded from view. Jimmy and Phillip pulled their swords from Strathisla’s head, then watched as the giant spider’s remains slowly dissolved away, leaving behind nothing but an immense spider-shaped skeleton.

  Gary said, “Okay, yeah. Now it’s dead enough.”

  “Take a good look, guys,” Tyler said. “We’re the first people in history to ever see a spider’s skeleton, because they don’t exist! Hear that, Todd?!”

  Strathisla’s legs were recognizable. Its skull was essentially a smaller, whiter version of its original head. The central mass of the spider’s body, where its legs had been connected, was a tangle of small, stout bones, just complex enough to be bewildering but far too simple to actually function. Its abdomen, which on spiders is a large, bulbous appendage behind the legs, was a hollow, round cage of gracefully curving bones.

  “Why are there ribs where its butt should be?” Gary asked.

  “Because Todd’s an idiot,” Tyler answered.

  On the skeleton’s back, at the center of where th
e legs were connected, one bone stood out from all the others. It didn’t seem to be attached to the other bones or to serve any structural purpose. Also, it was glowing.

  Gary pointed to the bone and said, “Tyler, would you like to do the honors?”

  Tyler scowled and said, “Just get it over with.” He turned and walked toward the blacksmith shop. Gary pulled the bone from Strathisla’s back, and the rest of the skeleton faded away into nothingness.

  They followed Tyler to the shop. Once there, they decided to give it to Inchgower right away, for fear that if they didn’t, two Strathislas might regenerate. The blacksmith took the bone. Suddenly every artificial villager in town was there, celebrating with the exact same celebratory song and dance the miners had used when they got their bird back. The villagers built a bonfire and made food. Surprisingly, Inchgower threw Strathisla’s bone into the fire. Phillip, Gary, and Jimmy mostly sat and watched the artificial people enjoy their artificial celebration. Tyler excused himself and went to sit alone for a while and think.

  That night they put down their bedrolls on Inchgower’s floor, as they had before. When the wizards woke up, they were delighted to see Inchgower standing next to the heavy ball of dailuaine ore.

  Thank God, Phillip thought. After all that manual labor and spider fighting, now he’ll actually get on to making the weapon, whatever it is.

  As the wizards got up from their bedrolls, Phillip felt an unfamiliar jabbing sensation from the pocket of his jeans. He put his hand in and by touch alone he instantly recognized that there was a ballpoint pen in his pocket. It had not been there when he went to bed.

  Phillip surreptitiously pulled out the pen and found a sheet of paper, a page torn from a small notepad, wrapped around the barrel of the pen. Keeping the pen concealed, he made a quick visual survey of the room. Inchgower was standing almost motionless, as was his custom. Jimmy and Gary were rolling up their bedding. Tyler was also putting away his bedding, but he was looking at Phillip as he did it. His manner was so aggressively nonchalant that it couldn’t help but get Phillip’s attention. Their eyes locked. Tyler glanced quickly toward Phillip’s pocket. Phillip nodded, then moved his right hand in such a way as to demonstrate that he was concealing the pen. Tyler immediately turned his attention to his bedding as if nothing had happened.

  In the process of rolling up his own bedding, Phillip found a means of concealing and reading the note Tyler had passed. It said:

  Todd is probably watching and listening. After we make the weapon, next stop is “Chasm of Certain Doom.” We need a plan.

  —T

  Phillip knew that Tyler was right on all counts, but he didn’t have the foggiest idea what to do about it.

  Inchgower directed the wizards to remove the chunk of rock from the sledge and bring it into the shop. The rock was heavy enough that one man could carry it with great difficulty, two could move it with some exertion, and three or more could move it with little effort and a great deal of bickering.

  When they got the dailuaine into the shop, Inchgower told them to place it on the floor. He turned his back to the wizards and started rummaging around his tools.

  “All right,” Gary said. “Now’s when things start to happen.”

  Inchgower turned and started handing the wizards hammers and chisels.

  “Yes,” Phillip said. “Things are happening. Terrible things.”

  Inchgower pointed to the dailuaine and said, “Now you break the ore into chunks, about an inch square. You see, once I’ve worked the dailuaine, it will be one of the hardest materials known to man, but in its natural state, it is not as tough.”

  Phillip knelt down next to the gray chunk of rock. He placed the sharp edge of the chisel on the rock’s surface, carefully aimed his hammer blow, and brought the hammer down with all of his might on the chisel. He felt a painful jolt of force run through the bones of his hand and arm. The rebounding hammer nearly hit him in the face. He examined the spot where his chisel had bit into the rock. He could barely make out a scratch.

  Inchgower continued. “Of course, it’s one of the toughest forms of raw ore in the world as well, but not quite as strong as it will be when it’s been worked.”

  The four of them pounded the rock like prisoners in a cartoon from the 1950s. After most of a day of hammering and chiseling, and cursing Todd’s name, the dailuaine was finally reduced to large-bore rubble.

  Inchgower gathered the rubble and put it in the pot he had made the day before, which had now hardened. He threw in the burnt spider bone, which crumbled like a dirt clod in his hands. He instructed the wizards to lay down two bricks in the middle of the floor of the brick cube. While they did that, he put a few more items into the pot: an unidentifiable powder and a piece of broken glass. He placed the lid on the pot and put the pot inside the cube.

  As the wizards stood, watching Inchgower do the work for a change, Tyler felt something touch one of his hands. He nearly looked down, but then he recognized the sensation as that of a pen being placed in his hand. He took the pen, noted that it had paper rolled around it, and then carefully slid the whole thing into his pocket. After a five count, he ventured a surreptitious glance at Phillip, who nodded.

  Soon, it was time to get back to work. While Inchgower supervised via his usual method, standing silently and pointing, the wizards packed the rest of the charcoal into the cube. When the pot was completely buried, the remaining bricks were used to put a domed roof on the structure, and the remaining clay was packed in around the bricks for insulation.

  Again they chose to rest for a bit before they covered the last brick with clay, which would cause Inchgower to issue more commands. They sat for a moment and looked at what they’d made.

  “Man,” Gary said. “That is some kind of ugly.”

  He wasn’t wrong. The unevenness of their amateur bricklaying was not helped by the thick coating of lumpy clay they’d heaped inexpertly on its surface.

  “It doesn’t have to be pretty,” Tyler said. “It just has to be hot. It’s a furnace. The charcoal will burn, and the bricks will trap and intensify the heat and melt the ore.”

  “Makes sense,” Phillip said. “What was the deal with the spider bone and the glass?”

  Tyler said, “I don’t know about the glass, but the bone was to add carbon. There was a time that sword makers would use the bones of their enemies. They thought it would imbue the finished sword with the fallen warrior’s might.”

  Gary said, “So whatever he makes us, it will have the might of a spider.”

  “A fake spider,” Tyler corrected him. “But it seemed to work. The carbon made the finished weapon harder—they just thought it was magic.”

  “How do you know this stuff?” Gary asked.

  “Research. I write fantasy novels. You need to know this kind of stuff. Besides, this is the easiest possible thing to research. Anyone who’s been to colonial Williamsburg or watched PBS on a lazy Saturday afternoon has been told this. Todd and I just took notes. I just hope he didn’t take notes too well.”

  Jimmy asked, “Why? What happens next?”

  “He lights the charcoal, and it burns for hours while it melts the rocks.”

  “Sounds hot and boring,” Jimmy said.

  Tyler said, “If we’re lucky.”

  “What if we’re not lucky?”

  Tyler stood up and said, “Let’s see.” He scooped up a handful of clay and slapped it onto the last corner of exposed brick.

  Inchgower said, “Well done, lads. Now I’ll light the fire and as the charcoal burns down the ore will melt and change into pure, hardened dailuaine.”

  Gary nodded and mumbled, “Hmm. Okay.”

  Tyler muttered, “Wait for it.”

  Inchgower turned to his tool rack, rummaged for a moment, and turned back to them with four large hand-operated bellows in his arms. “And you will use these to pum
p air into the fire, making it burn hot enough to melt the metal.”

  Tyler said, “Yup. That’s what I was afraid of.”

  “Yes, all four of you,” Inchgower beamed, answering a question Todd had expected them to ask.

  Tyler said, “The oxygen, it intensifies the fire.”

  Inchgower answered a second anticipated but unasked question. “Yes, the entire time.”

  Tyler said, “I think they usually have people alternate pumping. That way, no one person gets totally exhausted. Everyone stays just exhausted enough.”

  Inchgower said, “About six hours,” answering a question nobody had asked because they feared the answer.

  Tyler turned to Jimmy and said, “If it’s any consolation, it’ll be hot and boring, so you weren’t wrong.”

  19.

  Everyone agreed that the task of lugging a heavy chunk of rock was not made easier by having the rock in question also be invisible. Luckily, Brit solved the problem by wrapping it in Martin’s silver-sequined wizard robe. Now, instead of looking like empty space, the ore looked like a poorly made disco ball.

  The problem of the dailuaine’s invisibility was solved easily. The problem of the sledge’s invisibility was left unsolved, because they never even knew it had existed. Nobody had ever offered Phillip’s party the use of the sledge. They just saw it and chose to use it. Nobody offered the sledge to Brit’s party, and they didn’t see it (Martin tripped on it at one point but chalked it up to his own clumsiness), so they didn’t know it was an option.

  They spent some time puzzling over how they would transport the boulder. It was heavy, and its round shape offered no convenient handholds, forcing the carriers to hold its mass out, away from their center of gravity. Gwen and Brit were both in fine shape, but neither of them would be described as large and muscular. Roy was well beyond his physical prime, and Martin was more the fast, wiry type, physically more suited to fleeing than to fighting, preferably doing either without carrying freight.