A Web of Crimson
A Book of The Law
Alexander G.R. Gideon
For my Dad.
This one’s for you.
Contents
1. The Snow Ape of Zermatt
2. Upon the Mountainside
3. Rimmed with Frost
4. The City of Soot
5. The Salisbury
6. A Little Breaking and Entering
7. In the Office of Samuel Mathers
8. The Knight Mages of the Crown
9. Mark Mason’s Hall
10. The Hermetic Order of the Golden Dawn
11. The Web
12. Elaine Simpson
13. A Guest in the Night
14. Take up Arms
15. The Solstice Rite
16. The Spider
17. I Will Give You Power
18. For Better or Worse
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About the Author
1
The Snow Ape of Zermatt
The yeti’s grubby paw tightened on my leg and the bone creaked. If he broke it, I didn’t know if I could make it off the Matterhorn. Especially since he was dangling me off a cliff near the top, and death awaited if I fell. Snow whipped and wailed beneath me, hiding the world below in a veil of white. The yeti roared, and the sound reverberated off the mountains around us. This high, any noise risked avalanche.
“Lower your voice, please.” The beast responded by shaking me. A rude gesture in the face of my politeness.
I raised a hand and gathered will in my palm. “Ignis.” I kindled my will into a flame and sent it rushing at the beast’s face. The fire fizzled on impact, but the sudden flash startled it, and the snow ape yelped. It stumbled back, and I thanked the divine that I no longer dangled over open air.
Angry, he lifted me to eye level and huffed a rancid breath in my face. Disgusting creature. The beast’s long, white-furred arm kept me out of striking distance, but still close enough to reach its small, deep-set eyes with my magic.
I gathered my will to the tips of my fingers and muttered, “Perforo te.” The piercing spell stabbed the creature’s dark orbs and blood gushed from his face. He dropped me and I landed hard in the snow, too close to the cliff’s edge. One leg slipped over, and I scrambled to keep from falling, the snow too loose to get a handhold. Panic crawled up the back of my throat.
“Glacio,” I cried, throwing my will at the snow. A strip in front of me froze solid. I wrapped my arms around it, my legs dangling over the edge. My stomach fluttered at the open air beneath me, and I dragged myself back up. Panic fading, I collapsed into the snow. The yeti roared and flailed, blinded and hurt, but still searching for me. I clambered to my feet and hurried down the ridge away from the beast until I spotted a divot in the snow. Inside lay my injured, nearly frozen mountain guide.
When I fell to my knees next to him, the snow came to my waist. I squinted up at the sky and the raging storm. The snowfall showed no signs of letting up, which worried me more than the howling yeti. Even my will could do nothing about the weather. I placed my hand on my companion’s chest, letting my magic seep into him. I murmured a warming spell, keeping the process slow so I didn’t shock his system. Steam enveloped us as his rising temperature melted the snow.
His eyes fluttered open and focused on me. “Good to see you awake, Matteo.” I smiled and gave him a pat. “Your wife will kill me if I don’t bring you back in one piece.”
He smiled in return and said, “Thank you for saving me, Mr. Crowley. I did not wish to become one of the monster’s victims.”
I’d seen the ravaged bodies the beast had left behind on our way up, and I had to agree. Over the last several months, the yeti had eaten dozens of vacationers traveling here for the beautiful scenery and the wonderful skiing, turning the mountain into a cemetery. The Swiss had requested aid, and the Knight Mages of the Crown had sent me to clean up the mess.
A roar cut through the wind and Matteo’s eyes widened. I stood, helping him to his feet. “I can handle him,” I said, reaching down to unhook one of his climbing axes from his belt. “Get back to camp and prepare to weather this blizzard. I promised your wife I’d bring you back, and I intend to keep my word.”
Matteo nodded and hurried down the ridge toward our campsite while I trudged back toward the snow ape. The wind whipped across the ridge, pledging to hurl me against the side of the Matterhorn and I channeled a bit of will through my feet to anchor me to the mountain. Blowing snow made it hard to see, but with the yeti’s deafening bellows, I didn’t need to. The ridge opened onto the cliff top once more, and the yeti stumbled into view, clawing at his face.
I closed my eyes and dove deep within myself.
It took most magi hours of meditation to open the seven gates of power, the natural dampers that keep a magician’s full potential in check, and even longer to pry them open in precise order. But “most magi” didn’t include me. I bypassed the first few and opened only the fifth gate. The gate of water. It took no more than a push of will, and the swirling energy within released. My exhaustion sloughed away, my muscles strengthened, and my vision cleared as power surged through me.
I knelt and sent my will into the snow, using its crystalline structure to carry my magic. I pictured the snow collecting around each of the yeti’s legs, then freezing solid. Once again, I whispered, “Glacio.”
And I made it so.
Snow crawled up the yeti’s legs and solidified. It roared in frustration, fighting to move. I leaped and slammed both feet into his chest. He pitched back and fell, making a crater in
