Lucas turns sharply towards me. “Are you insane?”
It’s the moment the spider was waiting for, and it jumps.
My breath ceases, eyes wide. My magic is locked in my healing spell and time slows to a crawl as I once again try to tear away from an incomplete spell. My heart sears and my mouth opens wide in a silent scream.
Lucas’ shoulder rams into mine, the strength of him sending me careening to the side. I hit the ground again, this time rolling so I can whip my head back up to witness his plan. The fire extinguishes from Lucas’ threads to wrap around the spider’s massive body as he attempts to throw it from us.
The spider grabs on and Lucas’ feet lift from the floor as he goes tumbling with the creature.
My heart pounds, pulsing fear through my body in a wave of cold nausea as Lucas grapples with the creature. My arm’s healing is imperfect, but it’s enough for me to disentangle from the spell without further damaging myself.
Ignoring the jolt of lingering pain, I slap my palms flat on the stone floor and speak the ancient words of the Weave, beseeching its blessing as my soul sings. The walls begin toripple with Transformation magic, stone shifting as it answers my call. I want to corral it in a stone prison, but can’t with Lucas in the way. He tries again and again to disentangle from the creature, but to no avail. My throat goes dry, sweat beading along my forehead as I grip the spell with both hands.
I mumble, “Come on, Lucas… Get out of the way…”
A familiar whispering reaches my ears. Slowly, I turn away from Lucas to my wide-open vault with its fallen bookshelf and tumbled books. There, in the very center, lies my grimoire. Vulnerable.
No, I cannot risk my grimoire being damaged. The vault needs to be secured to keep it safe from the fight and, in case this goes south, the spider book. With its power,The Arachnomiconis capable of devouring other grimoires.
With one last look at Lucas, I release my hold on the stone and bolt to the open vault. I’m not far, but each step feels like a mile as Lucas battles to physically force the book into submission. He’ll be fine. I can do this.
My magic hums from me, righting the bookcase and the other grimoires. My precious book swoops up into my hands and I almost send the whole bookcase back down with the force of my impact. With shaking hands, I shove my book back with the others and it once again seamlessly blends in. If the spider manages to break into my vault, it shouldn’t be able to sense my adolescent grimoire when surrounded by much tastier options.
I don’t have time to feel relief. As fast as I can, I run from the vault and slam it closed. My palms press hard against the seal. With a flare of light, it activates. I exhale, forehead touching it, and my shoulders slump. I did it. Thank all the nonexistent arachnid gods.
A scream tears through the basement and freezes my heart cold.
Lucas.
I whip around and a shattering within cripples me as I behold the creature pinning my friend down with its grasping forelegs, its mouth lowered to his chest.
Lucas’ hand falls limp to the ground, the golden glow of his rings fading until they are a magicless, dull black.
CHAPTER 5
All thoughts of capturing the grimoire leave as my mind goes blank. Then there’s fire. My fire. The one that burns in my soul and crackles in my throat, the same fire that warmed me when I was betrayed, the one that fueled me during my darkest and loneliest times when the nights were long and my future dim.
My rage, my power surges. I roar, the cavern shivering with the force of it. Flame explodes from me. As if on thundering hooves, the magic rumbles as it descends upon the creature. It screeches, diving away and abandoning Lucas’ body. The fire follows. The cavern lights up with the attack, my wards on my records flaring to protect them.
The Flame of Creation is powerful and burns too brightly for the Entropy within the spider to absorb fast enough. Beneath its monstrous exterior, it is still a book, and it can burn. But it drains me at an alarming rate.
I stagger, gasping, my hand clutching at the throbbing in my chest. Something cold stings and fear cripples me as my knee hits the ground hard. I shouldn’t have touched my grimoire without Jinx. I shouldn’t have left Lucas alone. All mistakes that might’ve cost me everything. But I cannot dwell on that right now.
I force my feet under me to run to Lucas. I don’t think too deeply about his stillness as I pull him, throwing his arm over my shoulder. Magic whispers from my lips, lightening him, lightening me, and I bolt. The stairs are too numerous. My flames too hot. The small, stone space turns into a heating oven.
The creature is too fast. It’s leading the flame round and round like it understands the rules of magic. Like it knows that it’s draining me.
I spot the door. Almost there.
Heat grows behind me, but I don’t look back. Lucas becomes heavier, but I don’t look back. I miscount the steps and my ankle stings, but I don’t look back. My lungs struggle for air, my body slick with sweat, my hold on Lucas slipping. A screech raises the hairs on the back of my neck. I push myself harder, faster, black spots blooming in my vision.
I slam into the basement’s iron door, the unoiled hinges opening too slowly. The roar is in my ears, my vision sparkling. I fall to the ground, dragging myself, dragging Lucas.
But I need to shut the door before we’re safe. Magic cannot move iron.
The light of the room hits the creature. Dripping fangs, hairy grasping pedipalps, and skittering tarsal claws are highlighted in perfect detail. Cold fear seizes my muscles, my mouth stretching open in a silent scream. I’ll remember this grotesque form for as long as I live.
For however long I live.
