"Go kick some ass," Claire said.
"We'll be right here waiting for you," Joe added.
"This is what you're meant to do," Tabby said.
Maria nodded. They were right. This was not goodbye. Maria wouldn't let it be.
Placing a hand on Odarth’s heated scales, the young witch asked, Are you ready?
No, Maria, I am not, but I fear I have no choice in the matter, the dragon replied.
Me either.
With that, they headed for the entrance. Just as Maria was about to walk over the threshold, an Arachnid bigger than the others fell from an unseen web above. He held a scythe, like the grim reaper, and his eyes had the slightest tinge of green in them.
“No entry, I’m afraid,” he smirked. “Ah, Maria Apple. I’ve heard so much about you; mostly from your screaming grandfather. It’s nice to finally put a face to the name.”
“And who are you?” Maria spat.
“Well, don’t you know? I am Jinxton.”
“Never heard of you,” she scoffed. “Now move out of the way, or I’ll kill you.”
Jinxton looked down at his massive boots, seeming to weigh the situation. Suddenly, as quick as a viper, the Arachnid struck out with his sword. Maria was ready, though, and slipped out of the way, swiping at him with her sword. Their steel clashed, sending a spray of sparks into the dark.
Maria was ready for battle despite her lack of energy. She needed to conserve as much energy as she could.
“Go, Maria!” E’olin shouted from behind her. “We shall take care of this…scum.”
Jinxton laughed. “I’ll kill every one of you. This is not your battle to fight.”
“That’s where you’re wrong,” Gelbus said.
The giant Arachnid swiveled his head around in search of the source of the tiny voice. But Jinxton didn’t see the Gnome rushing at him with a dagger in hand. By the time he did, the dagger was already buried in the Arachnid’s abdomen. He cried out in pain, and the rest of the wanderers took the opportunity, falling on Jinxton with ferocity.
Maria turned, catching eyes with Joe. Go on, his eyes said. We’ve got this.
Jinxton was no match for their combined energy, magic, and force. The Arachnid who’d had such a lust for power that he was willing to overthrow the Widow soon came to be nothing more than the chitinous shell his soul had once possessed.
Maria found her way through the lair’s winding corridors. It helped to have Odarth; the Rogue Dragon’s smoldering eyes ate away at the darkness, allowing Maria to see the twists and turns ahead.
A high, sweet laughter filled her ears at the same time that a sickening smell of death and blood and rot filled her nostrils.
“Maria Apple,” said a voice she knew from her nightmares. It was the Widow.
Maria stepped forward, Odarth behind her.
“Ooh, and a friend. Who is this?”
I’m the one who is going to help rip your throat out, Odarth growled.
Just as Maria was about to relay the message, the Widow replied, “We’ll see about that, Rogue Dragon.”
In front of the Widow, Gramps swung from a web. He was completely unconscious, or so Maria hoped. There was a strong chance he was already dead.
She was experiencing the shock of so many things all at once: seeing her grandfather hanging, beaten and bloody, possibly dead, realizing the Widow’s power was so great that she could converse with a Rogue Dragon, and noticing the mound of bones and discarded half-eaten corpses to her left. As she processed all this, she took in the greatness of the giant spider overlord in front of her.
The Widow was huge—bigger than Odarth—as massive as the building itself, it seemed. A web even bigger than its creator hung high up in the corner. At first glance, Maria could see large victims stuck there, wrapped to look mummified.
A fear crept up her throat, tasting like bile. She swallowed it down and stood up taller.
“You brought my music box with you, Maria. How kind of you,” the Widow purred. She reached a leg up and nudged Gramps.
Maria’s grip on her sword tightened as she bared her teeth.
“I think I can offer you a fair trade. Your grandfather for my music box,” the Widow proposed.
Maria smiled; a gesture completely at odds with how she felt on the inside. “No way,” she answered. “I’m going to kill you and take my grandfather back.”
The Widow chortled. Slowly, she crept down the large stone steps of the dais. She moved with a grace Maria didn’t think was possible for such a creature.
Get on, and follow my lead, Odarth commanded.
Follow your lead?
Trust me.
Maria climbed on just as the Widow shot across the cavernous lair.
The monster’s feet scrabbled on the stone, sending bones and dust and strands of web all over the place.
Odarth jumped into the air and flapped her wings, and the Widow missed the pair, ramming into the wall with earthquake-like force. Stone shattered and fell to the floor. A large cloud of dust obscured Maria’s vision, but within, she could just make out eight glowing eyes, blinking on at once.
There was death in those eyes, and malice and evil.
Go, Maria! Odarth shouted in her mind. She arched her back, and Maria saw what the dragon meant. She was just a few feet away from the strand of web that Gramps was wrapped in. If she jumped, she could make it.
Probably.
Hopefully.
Maria jumped. For a long moment, she floated, hoping against hope that the music box wouldn’t fall from the bag over her shoulder, or that her sword wouldn’t unsheathe itself and get lost among the ruins.
She managed to keep her possessions and snag the sticky filament, but the single thread wasn’t strong enough to support both her and Gramps. Slowly, they fell to the floor, riding the strand downward like a diabolical elevator.
Just before Gramps’s unconscious body hit the dais, Maria jumped off, the web’s adhesive ripping away bits of her flesh as she did so. She hardly felt
