Murdering Her Light

by Michael Clement

  “You said that she was your apprentice!” Zebulon squealed.

  “No,” Tori said. “I said that she was my ward. That is not the same thing.”

  “ Gray Walkers can’t cast witchfire !” he roared, pissed off that suddenly he was the target, instead of me.

  “Again, she is my ward, not my apprentice,” Tori insisted, acting like her words should explain magic that apparently I wasn’t supposed to have.

  Zebulon scowled and fidgeted.

  Taking the initiative, Tori rekindled their previous discussion. “What do you want me to translate?”

  Zebulon looked like he was going to balk at continuing their negotiations.

  “If you want,” she added. “I can just move onto the next town, after I spend three weeks resting in the Room of Ribbons.”

  The Sorceror squinched up his nose unhappily and thrummed his fingers on his chair. Clearly, that wasn’t an option that he liked.

  “No,” he finally said. “I need the papers translated today.”

  “If we are going to negotiate about them, then I need to see them,” Tori said.

  Zebulon squinted at her and then finally nodded.

  Standing up, he said, “Follow me.”

  Then, he scuttled out of the room, going down a circular stairway behind one of the curtains.

  Tori followed him, still holding my hand. I knew that as long as she held it, I would see the truth. After being fooled twice, I clung to her with a near death grip.

  “Tonight,” she offered. “I could inset the pattern in your flesh that will give you true-sight.”

  “I would like that,” I said. Being able to see the monsters when they hid would be very valuable.

  “I recommend another pattern also, called mind-block,” she continued. “It will keep Zebulon out of your thoughts.”

  “Before you accept,” she said. “You will either need to pledge yourself to me as my apprentice, or come up with a fair trade for my spells.”

  My heart began racing and my palms shivered with sweat.

  Becoming her apprentice meant sleeping with her sexually.

  But, did I have a real choice?

  Without both of those spells, I was vulnerable to Zebulon’s influences and trickery.

  We entered the top of the stairwell, which wound down into the earth. It was made from chiseled stone that looked old. It wound clockwise to give any defenders an advantage. They would be swinging a sword with their right hand, while their attackers would have a hard time swinging their swords with the wall up against their right.

  Small lanterns hung from pegs every twenty feet lighting the stairs. They looked colorful, like a Chinese lantern. Something within them flickered brightly.

  “They are called Fey Lanterns,” she said, when she noticed my interest. “A small creature called a pixie is trapped within it. Their body gives off the light.”

  “That's awful,” I said.

  Tori shrugged and kept on walking. She didn’t push the subject of my apprenticeship again, as we went deeper into the earth. I think that she knew that the thought frightened me and freaked me out at the same time.

  Without Tori, I wouldn’t be able to survive in this world. I had no job, no income, no savings, and no allies. Slavery was alive and flourishing here, and I was positive that Zebulon would love to tie me up and do awful things to me.

  There weren’t any other Gray Walkers standing in line volunteering to train me.

  But, if I agreed, that would mean…

  Wow, my mind had a real hard time imagining making love to another woman.

  My thoughts were interrupted when we entered a new cavern. It was huge, stretching off into the distance. Old metal girders were riveted into the floor every so often. They reached up to the ceiling, about thirty feet above us. I could see the remnants of old electric lights hanging in the girders above us, but they looked too damaged to work anymore. Currently, the only light came from more Fey Lanterns strewn around the room.

  The whole cavern was stuffed full of old unusable technology. Ancient planes, tanks, cars, rifles, desks, file cabinets, and thousands of other old-world technology littered the place. All of it was rusty and broken. In front of us were dozens of tables with manuscripts placed all over them.

  More ancient spider men like Zebulon filled the room. All of them looked as old as the Sorceror. A few of them looked even older. Zebulon still had black legs with red highlights. These creatures were almost completely white, as if the cavern had bleached out all of their color, except for one of the monks. His skin was a pale black. He had retained his coloring, but he was more wrinkled than all the other Shadar put together.

  They were dressed in loose-fitting clothing and many of them had strange spectacles on their faces. While I studied one of them, he clicked a lever on the side of the glasses that made a new lens pop down. Maybe they were magnifying glasses of some sort.

  Strangely, they ignored us and continued to work on their own papers. They reminded me of ancient monks, as they transcribed and copied old books.

  Zebulon brought us to a large area that was covered in books.

  “This is the stack,” he said, pointing at about twenty papers. Next to them was a map of San Antonio.

  Carefully, he spread the papers out over the tables, one after another, so that Tori could look at them without touching them. She placed her hands behind her back and walked down the line, peering at each of them.

  While she looked at the papers, Zebulon stared at her in rapt attention.

  He really wanted her to translate them, I realized. It must be important.

  When she was done, Tori turned to Zebulon and said, “I’m sorry, but I don’t know this language.”

  “Impossible!” Zebulon squealed.

  Intrigued, I took a quick look.

  They were written in a messy cursive, like a doctor’s handwriting from earth.

  But, they were in English.

  Smiling, I read the first few paragraphs, as Zebulon continued to scream unhappily while he stomped his feet in irritation.

  Leaning over, I whispered to Tori. “I can read them.”

  Zebulon immediately stopped. Somehow, he had heard me, even over his own screams.

  Tori broke out into a grin.

  “It appears that we can still do business,” she said.

  - 12 -

  “What do you want?” Zebulon asked. But, his excitement was easy to see. For a practiced negotiator, he was not doing so well.

  And, Tori knew it.

  “These are important to you, Zebulon, aren’t they,” she mused.

  Instantly, he stopped moving.

  But, the other spiders had heard.

  They began snickering at him, just loud enough that we could hear them.

  “Shut up!” he shouted, but they ignored him, as they went back to work.

  Something caught my attention, above his head.

  Looking up, I suddenly noticed a large oval, made out of spun silk.

  Then… I noticed the webs that coated the ceiling. Before, the light had been too dim, but here, surrounded with Fey Lanterns, I could now see the ceiling better.

  It was covered in human-sized cocoons.

  While I watched, several of them shook and wiggled.

  Good Lord, I almost shouted. We were in the spider’s larder.

  Shaking, I looked away from the misery that was tied among the girders. Happy that I wasn’t among their numbers.

  I had to become more powerful, I swore. Otherwise, my body would end up a snack for future generations of spiders.

  “I want the book,” Tori said with quiet reverence.

  Zebulon stood stock still, not even breathing.

  Silence filled the room, as all the spiders put their pens down and turned to look at us.

  Finally, Zebulon said, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Then let me make myself clear,” Tori said. “I want Boaz Caldwell’s Grimoire.”


  Several of the spiders drew long blowguns out of their loose robes. While I watched them, they carefully loaded them with darts that had glowing goo on their tips.

  “Tori,” I whispered, trying to get her attention.

  “My ward is the only one in the world who can read those papers,” Tori said, ignoring me. “If you kill either of us, you will lose that knowledge… forever.”

  Zebulon held up his hands, “Brothers, put away your weapons… please.”

  “She seeks Boaz,” one of the spiders intoned. “The woman must die.”

  “We are the Keepers,” another intoned. “We cannot forsake our vows.”

  “It is forbidden,” a third added who had skin the color of night. “His work is an Abomination to all Arachnids.”

  “All true,” Tori added, as she pointed at Zebulon’s papers. “However, those manuscripts have lithographs showing your home world and how to return to it.”

  “What!” the black spider screeched. “Zebulon! Why haven’t you shared this knowledge amongst the Seekers!”

  “Grandmother Spider will be very angry,” the first spider instructed, as he flailed his hands about. “She insists that we share our knowledge.”

  Zebulon looked worried, as the spiders changed from verbal insults to mental ones. I felt them zing through the air, assaulting Zebulon, even though I still held Tori’s hand. Some of the stronger bolts stunned the Sorceror, while others made him shake in pain.

  “Enough!” Zebulon roared. “I want to go home! To the jungles of Jogomane . I want to hunt in the Scented Gardens again! I do not care a whit that this woman desires the forbidden! I want to go home!”

  The assaults ceased, as his words struck home.

  “Who here does not want to see Quarma again!” he asked. “Or the Waarday Paradise?”

  The other spiders looked shocked.

  Quiet filled the room, as Zebulon continued to huff and puff.

  Finally, the black spider said, “I miss my wife.”

  The white spider added, “I would like to go home, as well.”

  “If we agree to tell you where the book is hidden before we depart this world,” Zebulon asked. “Will that suffice?”

  “We cannot,” the final spider said.

  Zebulon turned to him. “After we leave, we are no longer bound to protect the Archives.”

  The black spider perked up, “It will need a new protector.”

  Then, all four spiders turned and smiled at us.

  The air became chilly and deathly quiet.

  Tori held up her hand, “I am not interested in protecting your Archive.”

  “Neither am I,” I interjected.

  “It is the only way that we can turn over the grimoire over to you,” the black spider insisted.

  “You would have to become more than a Gray Walker ,” the white spider added.

  “She can’t do it alone,” Zebulon said, looking at me.

  “You would lose your freedom, but gain so much more,” the black spider said.

  “I don’t want to give up my freedom,” Tori insisted. “I just want the book.”

  “Forbidden knowledge comes with a hefty price,” Zebulon stated. “Just like anything else of extreme value.”

  “I…” Tori began and then changed her tune. “We are offering you something of value. In exchange, I require the book.”

  The black spider sighed.

  The white spider sighed.

  Zebulon shook his head. “We can offer you many things of value, but not the Book. And,” he said. “Just the knowledge that we have Boaz’s filthy manual is a killing offense within the Confederacy of Texas.

  The red spider pointed at Tori and said. “And, you knew that. Either pay the cost to acquire it, or pay the penalty for your forbidden knowledge.”

  I wondered who was going to give in first.

  The spiders wanted to go home.

  Tori wanted some old book, which was apparently illegal to even know about.

  I, on the other hand, didn’t care. Within a few months, I was bound to twist back to my home world and forget that this had ever happened.

  It was kind of freeing, not really caring about the future. Consequences didn’t matter, because I wouldn’t be here to pay the price.

  “Tori,” Zebulon said. “Become the Maestro of Burning Tree and the Guardian of the Archives.”

  “Impossible,” the white spider screeched.

  “If she becomes the Maestro,” the Black Spider reasoned, “Who will become the Sorceror?”

  “Truth,” Zebulon purred.

  “No,” the white spider insisted.

  “Why not?” I asked before I remembered to be quiet.

  “Because humans cannot become Sorcerors,” the black spider answered. “It is impossible.”

  “Not true,” Tori whispered.

  All the spiders scowled.

  “Boaz was a Sorceror,” she reminded them. “Give me the Book.”

  “We cannot do that,” the white spider continued. “It is forbidden.”

  “If Truth,” Zebulon mused, pointing at me, “became my apprentice. I could teach her how to use black magic as a Warlock…”

  “Heresy!” the black spider wailed.

  “Blasphemy!” the white spider cringed.

  “Then,” Zebulon continued, ignoring them. “Truth could become the Sorceror after we leave.”

  The spiders became still, only Zebulon made noise , as he tapped his taloned foot against the floor.

  “The others will not understand,” the black spider worried.

  “We will keep Truth hidden until the Shadarstalk is reality again,” Zebulon insisted. “When the others see the way home open before them, they won’t care who we leave behind. Plus, by then, I will be able to teach her how to hide the stink of being a Warlock.”

  “I don’t want to learn black magic,” I insisted.

  “You know curses already,” Zebulon spat out. “I can see one on the back of your left hand.”

  I looked down and touched my hand, wondering what he was talking about.

  “She is already a Warlock,” he insisted to the other spiders. “We can all smell her.”

  The other spiders looked at me uneasily.

  I thought about the flames that I had summoned. Tori didn’t appear to know how to cast them. I wondered if that was what Zebulon was talking about.

  “If she will not become my apprentice, and you will not become the Maestro. Then, the only choice left to us is to execute you both,” Zebulon explained.

  Tori bristled.

  “Do you think the four of you can kill me?” Tori suddenly whispered, breaking my chain of thought, as she began to look dark and dangerous. It was like a veil had been removed, and the real Gray Walker now stood amongst us.

  The passionate, loving Tori disappeared for just a second, revealing someone dangerous and deadly who would kill you and not feel any remorse.

  That one look scared the hell out of me. It was as if I saw her as she truly was, for only a split-second.

  Then, the good-natured priest was again standing in front of me. If I hadn’t been watching her, I would have missed the whole thing.

  Zebulon raised his left hand slowly and pointed at the ceiling.

  Glancing upwards, I gasped. The webbing in the ceiling was now covered with spiders the size of grown women. The girls from upstairs obviously had backup. There had to be five hundred of the monsters, hanging from the glistening webs.

  Tori scowled.

  “You might be able to escape,” Zebulon pointed out. “ Gray Walkers can become almost invisible and intangible.”

  Then, he pointed at me. “But, Truth will surely die.”

  - 13 -

  Great, I thought, as the spiders on the ceiling began to squirm in anticipation.

  Tori looked up at them and thought quietly.

  Then, she said, “If you -- and your spiders -- go back to your home world. I won’t have sufficient forces to hold Burning Tre
e. And, my Sorceror will only be an apprentice. The other cities will sack Burning Tree and loot the Archive.”