Raella had us cast the compass spell immediately. The image appeared, strangely small for the first time in many days, and more southerly in the circle. Cassandra was laying down, either asleep or passed out – she was bleeding from the head, but it was hard to tell how badly she was wounded. The pale elf tensed visibly. “She’s hurt,” he said, his voice choking on the words with a surprising amount of anguish. I studied him curiously, wondering what kind of relationship they had formed in the brief time we had been here.
Raella let out an angry hiss. “How did she get so far?” she said. “There’s no way the river took her that far that quickly.”
We stood for several moments, staring at the glowing image on the ground. With a sigh, Chase finally broke the spell. “We should continue on,” she said resolutely. Then smiling, she turned toward the three elves we had just met. “If you want to come with us, I believe introductions are in order. My name is Chase Glenn. I am a student of the Imperial University.” She curtsied, dipping her head courteously.
The three looked at each other, then the larger elf with brown hair cautiously nodded. “My name is Silden Vi’Aphil. This is Larina Eth’Adiol,” he took the hand of the female elf, who had bright blue eyes and short red hair. She smiled timidly at us, gripping his hand tight in return. “And that is Lyre Ik’Abalin,” he gestured to the pale elf, who tilted his head forward politely at his name, regarding us with pale gray eyes.
“Slave names,” Zolambi noted. “I am Zolambi Demn.” The pale elf – Lyre – gave Zolambi an appraising look, perhaps also recognizing a fellow former slave by name. I wondered what distinguished the names as slave names, but the introductions were continuing.
Chase gestured to Peyton, Lexie and me. “These humans are like your friend… Peyton Hobbs, Lexie Saint, and Lucas Kearney.”
“They’re from her world?” Larina asked, and she and Silden studied us in awed fascination.
Chase glanced over at Raella, obviously surprised that they knew Cassandra wasn’t from this world, then nodded. “She… Cassandra told you where she was from?”
“Not initially. She was very cautious, and claimed to have amnesia when we met her,” Lyre said. He looked back down at the river far below us again, a slight frown on his face.
“I am Greyjon Pellort,” Greyjon said simply into the following silence.
“You fight well,” Silden said. “Thank you again for helping us.” Greyjon smiled at him in acknowledgment.
“And I am Raella Harn, Professor of Ancient Divinity at the Imperial University,” Raella said. She looked around at us impatiently. “And I think anything else we can learn from you can be shared as we travel.”
“I agree,” Lyre said, finally looking back to the group. “Let’s be on our way.”
We continued along from the cliff above, walking along the edge of the ravine. There weren’t enough horses for all of us to ride, so we walked, talking as we went. Raella wanted the slaves (or former slaves) to tell her everything they had experienced with Cassandra from the moment they met her. Lyre had been closest to her, so he spoke the most, though it was Larina that initially described the beam of light that delivered Cassandra into what she called the Cursed Sea.
I walked behind Lyre, studying him as he spoke, and tried to imagine what it must have been like for Cassandra, to literally wake up in this world lost at sea and try to make the best of it. She had been lucky to find people that she had grown close to at least – people that apparently cared for her.
Raella listened very carefully, asking a few pointed questions throughout the telling. Early on, when Lyre described casting a translation spell for Cassandra, she said, “She wasn’t speaking Blest?”
Lyre shook his head. “No. I gave her language lessons so she has a decent grasp of it now, but she spoke another language at first. She called it English.” Peyton drifted closer to walk next to me, absorbed in what was being said. “I also taught her to read.” He glanced back at us, frowning. “Did you not have to do the same?”
I shook my head.
Lyre squinted, like he was trying to remember something. “Hello. My name is Lyre,” he said, forming the words slowly, carefully enunciating. Raella’s eyes boggled as she looked at him, like maybe he had grown an eye stalk from the middle of his head.
“Yes, I know,” I said, feeling like I ended the statement with a question mark.
“Were you speaking English just then?” Peyton asked, catching on more quickly than I had. He nodded. “It doesn’t distinguish for us. It all sounds like English, whether you speak normally or not.”
“So that is what an otherworlder language sounds like,” Raella said thoughtfully.
“What if I speak in the elven tongue?” Lyre asked, and he did – the language rolled off his tongue smoothly, sounding nearly as perfect as Zolambi did when he spoke in Primordial.
I shook my head this time. “No, Primordial doesn’t translate for us.”
“Primordial,” Lyre repeated.
Now Zolambi piped up from behind us. “Yes, friend. Our tongue is called Primordial in the Empire.”
Lyre nodded thoughtfully. “I’m sure there’s going to be a lot for us to learn as well,” he said. He continued, telling us about Cassandra’s deal with the ship captain, and how she had begun working to earn her passage. He described the moment that Cassandra had first cast, and the magic lessons he had given her afterward at her request, the escape from the ship, and their trek to and across the desert. “On occasion, she would instinctually cast a new spell. The spell that saved her when she fell off the cliff earlier was one, as well as a true healing spell and a sleep spell.”
“True healing?” Raella asked.
“Yes. She can knit broken bones and close wounded flesh, and we have seen her clear an infection,” Lyre responded. He raised and clenched his hands, which were glossy from a gel that Chase had spread across the wounds he had received in his earlier fight. “She would easily be able to heal these burns if she were here.”
“I see. A truly divine spell,” Raella said, sounding impressed for once. “Then the head wound she sustained should be no trouble at least.”
Lyre let his hands drop back to his side, frowning. “She can’t heal herself.”
Raella hmm’ed, pursing her lips. “That is unfortunate.”
Mostly, their escape to the Empire was a desperate bid to safety, but it was also a journey to find out why Cassandra may have come to this world. “If you were looking for her, then you must know her purpose here?” Lyre tentatively asked.
“You’ve never heard any stories regarding this?” Raella asked, frowning.
“Some. Vague fairy tales about otherworldly beings sealing away monsters,” Lyre said.
Raella nodded. “That’s close enough to true.” And she disclosed everything she had told us about our mission in their world, keeping it rather succinct. As she finished, she asked, “This is very important. The being we wish to seal has been known to reach out to the Graces when they arrive in our world. Has Cassandra mentioned hearing voices at all?”
Lyre shook his head. He had a thoughtful look on his face for a moment, but he simply said, “Never.”
When we stopped to rest and have a luncheon in the afternoon, we cast the compass spell again. Cassandra appeared to be awake now, and was sitting cross legged, a cloak wrapped around her. The head wound must not have been as serious as we thought, the blood having been wiped away. She looked to be lost in thought. “That is a very useful spell,” Lyre said as it was dropped. “Can you find anyone with it?”
Raella glanced at us briefly as she responded. “Not just anyone. It is a spell specifically to find someone from their world.”
Lyre nodded thoughtfully, taking note of Raella’s nervousness. He changed the subject, glancing over at Larina and Silden to say, “Was that the Hunter’s cloak?”
Larina shrugged, but Silden nodded. “It looked like it. Maybe he’s helping us now? He did fight off some of the hounds.” Lyre frowned more deeply, seeming disturbed. Seeing his expression, Silden said, “I’m sure she is safe.”
“You seem very concerned for her,” Peyton noted gently.
“I am,” Lyre said, but didn’t elaborate. We continued after eating.
Lexie spent her time walking very close to the edge of the cliff, which made me a bit nervous. It must have bothered Zolambi as well, because he trailed just behind her, seemingly coincidentally, or at least a lot less obvious than I would have been. As the afternoon gave way to evening, she gestured down below. “What is that?” she asked. I stepped closer to look, as did some of our other companions. Some sort of white string was spread across the cliff face. Even further down amongst the trees and the rock formations closer to the river, there were whole clumps of the stuff. There was only one thing I could think of as soon as I saw it, and it sent a shiver up my spine.
“Webbing?” Peyton asked.
“It’s a spider den,” Raella said. “Though I don’t see the spiders.”
We stared in silence, trying to spot any movement from below. “We should probably move further along before we make camp,” Greyjon said. “We don’t want to be nearby if they come out to hunt at night.” I shuddered at the thought.
“How big do they get?” Peyton asked.
“Judging by the nest below… Big,” Greyjon said, and left it at that.
It started to get dark an hour later, so we stopped to make camp, hoping that it would be far enough away from the webbed lair. Greyjon decided to take the first watch, and accepted Silden’s offer to help. The compass spell was cast, and we were thankfully closer to Cassandra now. She was still sitting, staring thoughtfully into the middle distance with the cloak wrapped around her. From the size of her image, I guessed it would only be a day or two of travel to find her.
We settled in for the evening, eating and setting up our bedrolls. It was decided if a few of us each took a turn at watch, the bedrolls could be shared with our new guests. As I lay down to sleep, I turned on my side and stared at the crackling fire, and tried not to think about an entire den of giant spiders existing just north of us. Every strange noise in the night made me shiver, even if it was obviously unspiderlike.
I was finally starting to snooze when a strange chittering sound from out in the dark got my attention. My eyes flashed open and I stared at the fire. That, I thought, was definitely spiderlike.
I could hear Silden whisper something to Greyjon in the dark, though I couldn’t hear what he said. I heard the soft whisper of Greyjon’s sword leaving its sheath. I turned over to look toward where they were sitting – both were surrounded by the light of magic. I sat up to stare into the dark. More chittering – louder this time. From multiple spots around the camp.
Greyjon waved a hand up, a bright spot of light appearing above him, lighting the darkness around us suddenly and exposing the nearby landscape. I watched in horror as kitten-sized eight-legged shadows skittered away. And then I screamed as I saw something with too many legs shift forward quickly – something massive, maybe slightly larger than a bear. Its many eyes glittered in the light.
There was movement all around the camp as at least three more massive spiders moved forward as well. The rest of the group woke at my screams – several lights flared around me as everyone else reached for their magic. Whatever else they were doing was lost to me, because one of the spiders was barreling straight at me, attracted to my screaming. I instinctively propelled myself back, almost directly into the fire, and screamed again as I felt the flames lick my palms and back.
Panicked, worried that I had caught fire, I rolled on the dirt away from the flames (stop, drop, and roll, the mantra ingrained from elementary school, drifted through my head). Unfortunately, the roll brought me back into the spider’s grasp. I punched up as the legs surrounded me, my fists connecting with the bristly, leathery skin of the thing, and realized I was screaming, “No no nonononONONO!” as I struggled against it.
I was pinned. Its head dipped so close to me that I was looking directly into at least three of its large, glimmering eyes. I felt large fangs puncture my abdomen, and suddenly it was like my entire body was on fire, like the flames I had almost fallen into had seeped into my very blood. I screamed even louder than I thought I knew how to, until suddenly my tongue grew numb and my limbs grew heavy and my head felt fuzzy. This quick, I thought. I die this quick.
I heard screams and explosions in the camp, and more chittering. I could hear my name being shouted. I felt myself being lifted and carried, like floating in a dream. Names, I realized. I could hear multiple names being shouted, not just mine. Lexie?
I woke cocooned in sticky silk. My first instinct was to begin screaming again. Something slapped me – hard – across the face, and I stopped mid-shout, dumbfounded. “Stop making so much noise,” I heard a voice whisper, very close to me. I recognized it as Lyre.
Despite myself, I moaned and began to mumble a whole slew of absurdities, trying to shift to rip myself out of the webbing. It was hard to break through. “Spider web is some of the toughest material,” I muttered, and laughed a little manically.
The point of a rapier slipped through the web, nearly piercing me. I quieted immediately, holding very still. After a moment, Lyre said, “I… didn’t just kill you, did I?”
“Oh. No. Please get me out.”
“Okay, hold still.”
“I mean… I was. For that purpose. Hurry.” He obliged, quickly slicing through. Once there was a large enough opening, it was easy to slide out. I felt nauseous and my entire body felt heavy and fuzzy at once, like I existed in a deep fog. I pulled up my shirt to look at the bite – there were two large spots on my abdomen, both red and very inflamed, but nothing looked necrotic, nothing was turning white or black.
Lyre was still holding the rapier a little awkwardly. He looked paler than normal, like a ghost, probably owing to the similar bite wound on his shoulder. “We should get out of here,” he said.
I nodded fervently, but the motion sent my head spinning, and I winced. We were in a cave of some sort, and I could hear chittering echoing from within. Everything was covered with webbing, and there were other cocoons in the chamber. I wanted desperately to be anywhere but here. Lyre chose a direction to walk in, and I followed, hoping that he knew where we were going. But I took three steps before I remembered that I had heard a voice – Peyton’s voice – shouting my name when I had been carried away. And not just my name. “What about Lexie?” I asked groggily.
Lyre must not have heard me. He continued walking ahead of me.
I felt myself shaking my head, almost like in a distant dream, and the world blurred with the motion, shifting uncomfortably. I had always hated spiders, but I couldn’t just leave a little girl to be devoured by them. I mumbled as much out loud, then I shifted away from Lyre, moving in the opposite direction, sure that he would agree and follow.
mehryment 