“I killed the generals of her army, including Korion, but she is the one pulling the strings. Think of them like a colony of bees.”
“Bees? I thought they were like spiders.”
“They are. But bear with me. A beehive has a queen bee. The others do everything in their power to serve her. They work, they mate, they live for her. The same goes with the Arachnids. All of them live for her. And if Malakai has been reanimated, it will have been the Widow’s doing.”
“Malakai,” Maria found herself saying. The grip on her silverware grew tighter. “What happened to him? Why did he turn?”
“Ah, my dear, it is a long story. One I won’t bore you with. The short of it is that the Widow’s influence stretches further than I originally thought. I found Malakai on the edge of the Dark Forest, as if one of the Arachnids had birthed him and known he was different, but couldn’t bring themselves to kill him.” Gramps sighed. “Neither could I. The others in our village called me crazy for bringing an ancient enemy into our tribe. But, you know best, Maria, that—”
“You have a kind heart,” Maria finished, smiling.
“Yes. Sometimes, apparently, too kind.”
“Don’t blame yourself,” Maria said. “You did the right thing by taking him in.”
“Did I? It is a choice I’ve had to live with for many, many years, across worlds and time and space. One that is proving to haunt me, even here on Earth where I thought I would be safe—where I thought you’d be safe, Maria.”
“I am safe.”
“Not as long as you have that.” He pointed to the music box. “I only wanted to give you something that belonged to your mother. I only wanted to see if you possessed any of her power. And it turns out I may have bitten off more than I could chew. Not only are you powerful, but you are the key to saving an entire village of people. I’m so sorry, Maria; so sorry for placing this burden on your soul.”
“Gramps, don’t blame yourself. I’m fine. We’re fine. The village will be fine. We’ll save them.”
Gramps hung his head. His hand absentmindedly stroked Sherlock’s fur.
“Thank you, Maria,” he said. “Thank you for being so understanding. I know how odd all of this must be. You are handling it mighty well.”
“It is…and it isn’t,” Maria decided. “Somehow, it feels…right.”
“As it should. You are truly one of us.”
Maria eventually ate her chicken sandwich. It was cold, though. She wound up giving three-quarters of it to Sherlock. He ate it in about one and a half bites.
They left the coffeehouse and headed back to Gramps’s Firebird. Maria looked over her shoulder at the plaza and the violet sky behind it. Will it be the last time I see it? she wondered. She hoped not. Still, the allure of adventure was high. Getting out of Ohio had always been her ultimate goal. She was not only accomplishing it, but she was exceeding it by getting completely off the planet, which still seemed weird to her—and perhaps always would. Though there was no denying the fact that she felt like she was going home.
Inside of the Firebird, Maria started the engine. Gramps didn’t protest when she went around to the driver’s side. In fact, he’d seemed quite happy to let her, this time around.
“I want to go see Claire and Tabby before we go,” Maria repeated.
“That’s quite all right.”
Sherlock barked. He really liked Claire. Now that Maria could communicate with him, she had found out that Sherlock might’ve even had a crush on her best friend.
“But there is one more thing I must give you before we go to Oriceran,” her grandfather told her.
“What?”
“It is a surprise, but I think you are going to be very happy.”
Maria smiled. “You know I don’t like surprises, Gramps. Last time you gave me something, it made me sneeze magic and came attached with a giant spider creature who wanted to kill us.”
“Oh, trust me, Maria, you are going to like this much better than the music box.”
“Are you giving me the Firebird? Now, that would top every birthday present in the history of birthday presents!” Maria shifted into reverse and backed out of the Walmart parking spot very carefully.
“No. I will be buried in my Firebird, Maria,” Gramps said. “You know that. It’s in my last will and testament.”
Maria rolled her eyes.
“No eye rolling while driving!” Gramps shouted, and then quickly offered a smile to let her know he was joking.
“Well, if I’m going to like this surprise so much, maybe we should stop at home first.”
“I think that’s a good idea,” Gramps said.
Maria turned onto the road and headed back to their house. Sherlock snored in the backseat. The food coma had hit him hard.
Maria pulled into the driveway not long after. Gramps was much more lenient on the way back. Too bad I can’t get the Firebird as a gift. I look pretty damn good in the driver’s seat; almost as good as I look on that little pink bike I rode to the ice cream shop yesterday. She laughed quietly to herself. Kidding.
“Am I gonna have to close my eyes again?” Maria asked as they walked up to the house. Sherlock lagged behind, his stomach practically dragging on the ground. “And please don’t wear a party hat this time.”
“No promises,” Gramps said. He opened the door. The familiar smell of vitamins and those weird Oriceran spices hit Maria full-force, comforting her. “Wait here. I’ll be down with it in a moment. I don’t think Sherlock wants to miss it.”
Yeah, no way I can get up the stairs, Sherlock grumbled. Maria laughed and patted him on the head.
Gramps disappeared up the steps, whistling the birthday
