“We think the threat has been eradicated, but we need confirmation; we need to get to the bottom of it before things get too out of hand,” Lacey said. “Find Ignatius Mangood. If you can’t, then find Salem; he’ll know where Ignatius is. The two are practically inseparable, according to our files.”
Lacey knows her stuff, Lois thought approvingly. Except for one thing…
“Ignatius goes by ‘Ignatius Apple,’ now.”
Lacey's chuckle lacked humor. “I’ll mark that down. Just do some investigating for us, Lois. Please. We’ll owe you one.”
“Yes, you will. It’ll be good to catch up with old friends, but, just so you know, when you first said Ohio, I was thinking ‘that’s a big N-O from me.’ No one wants to go to Ohio.”
“It’s nice this time of year,” Lacey replied. “It’s the winters you want to avoid.”
“Good point. All right, Lacey, I’ll look into it.”
“Thank you, Lois. Add it to everything else we already owe you. Take care.”
She hung up.
“What was that?” Patsy demanded.
“Silver Griffins want me to go check out a disturbance in Ohio.”
“Ohio? What about the Paranormal Detective Agency?”
“Things have been slow since that business with Rhazdon; you’ll be able to handle it until I get back.”
Patsy sighed. “I’m going to be so bored.”
“At least you don’t have to go to Ohio.” Lois gave her a wink.
“When will you be back?”
“Hopefully soon, if it’s not as big as Lacey thinks. We’ll see.” Lois got up, readjusting her glasses. “Now I have to go tell Earl. That should be fun.”
“Good luck,” Patsy said as Lois walked out.
I hope I won’t need it, Lois thought.
Chapter Four
Arachnids were not supposed to know fear, but the two that had barely escaped the wrath of Ignatius Mangood were scared beyond belief.
The robed Arachnid’s name was Palentar, and his friend—whose short and stocky physique kept him out of battle and in the blacksmith’s forge—was named Queret. These Arachnids were afraid because they had to report their findings in the ruined village of Dominion.
Rumblings around the village of Dominion were slim to none., and they had been tasked with surveying the border; the instructions handed to them by the Widow’s second-in-command himself. They had never met the Widow, nor did they want to.
But that was going to end tonight.
If they didn’t report their findings, their punishment might be worse than death. Of course, there was always another option—one Palentar did not find pleasing. They could run; just up and leave behind their lives amongst the Arachnids, and set out for the world of Oriceran.
The only problem was that Arachnids were considered vile creatures, and were not well liked throughout the rest of the world. Palentar couldn’t blame anyone for not liking his race, but he was smarter than the average Arachnid, he supposed. So smart, in fact, that his wits had led him to a colonel’s position in their vast army many years ago; however, that same wit had been the cause of his demotion. He had tried—unsuccessfully—to usurp the general. The punishment was to have been death by dismemberment, but luckily, his wits had gotten him out of that, as well.
Now he turned to Queret, scowling, his fangs protruding. They stood at the edge of the Dark Forest. Somewhere, something that sounded like a crow, but wasn’t, cawed. Creatures moved unseen except for their glowing eyes; sticks and bramble snapped beneath their feet, and low growling rumbled in the darkness.
Ah, home. Palentar could never leave here. It would be like a fish leaving water, a bird leaving the sky.
“What?” Queret bellowed in response to Palentar’s scowl, his eight eyes crossing.
“This is your fault, you know,” Palentar replied. “You should’ve killed the girl.”
“We were outnumbered! And you saw with your eight eyes the same man I saw! Ignatius Mangood…” quietly, he added, “slayer of daemons.”
“Fool. We are not to be frightened by men or wizards. We are superior in every respect.” Palentar held up all six of his arms and motioned to his legs, emphasizing how Arachnids were better equipped than man, who had only four limbs.
“I know we are. I’m sorry. His light magic frightened me.”
The truth was, the light magic had frightened Palentar, too—but he was smart enough not to admit it.
He looked into Queret’s eyes with burning intensity. “You are to tell the Widow of your folly. I will say nothing.”
Queret raised his arms to the dark sky and screamed. It was loud enough to rattle the trees above. Black leaves fell like broken-winged birds.
Palentar swept his robe as he plunged forward into the forest, leading the way to the Widow’s lair.
Palentar and Queret arrived at the Widow’s lair over two hours later.
Two Arachnid guards descended from the nearby trees, their silky webs lowering them gracefully.
“State your business,” one of the guards said. His eyes lit up as Palentar stepped forward. “Pal, wouldn’t expect you out here. Not since…” he trailed off.
A low growl built up in the pit of Palentar’s stomach. He knew what the guard was about to bring up. You mustn’t let him get to you, Palentar scolded himself. After all, this creature—whose name he could not remember, though he recalled the hooked scar across his face, and who probably served underneath Palentar’s battalion in the Great Spider War—was nothing but a lowly guard.
“Our business is our own,” Palentar said.
“Sorry, Pal, it is not. Not when visiting the Widow.”
Palentar glared, and the two Arachnids practically had a staring contest. About a minute passed before Queret stepped forward, his voice shaky.
“Man,” he explained. “We saw man in the village nearby.”
“Man?” the guard prodded, and the other guard righted himself from his strand of web, obviously taking an interest.
“Not just any man,” Queret whispered. He brought a claw up to his mouth to cover his whisper—no one really knew what things were listening in the Dark Forest. Everything was evil; everything was an enemy. Even the trees had been known to take
