Eye of the Wizard: A Fantasy Adventure (6 page)

He did not need this. Not today. Romy had already ruined his day—indeed, his entire life. He did not want her tagging along. When he had summoned her, he thought he'd impress Dry Bones. After all, only the best warlocks could summon demons. Yet Dry Bones only stared at Neev's rabbit ears, announced that no warlock should look so silly, and kicked Neev out of the Coven.

It was outrageous.
I'm the brightest apprentice they've had. I summoned a demon! Who cares about rabbit ears?
Yet now he wandered the wilderness, homeless and penniless, this demon leeching along.

Neev looked at Romy, sighing. She looked back with large, puppy dog eyes.

"How old are you?" he said wearily. If she were human, she would look to be about twenty, but you never knew with demons.

"207, and you?"

"Much, much younger. Not even ten percent as old as you. And you still can't take care of yourself? You're still following me around like a duckling?"

She shrugged and twirled a lock of her hair of flame. "Well, I'm new to this world. And I might be a duckling... but you, sir, are a bunny." She reached out and tugged his rabbit ear. He slapped her hand away.

Grumbling, Neev turned and kept walking down the trail. He tried to ignore the pebbles in his boots, the wind in his rabbit ears, and the sounds of Romy babbling behind him. He walked as fast as he could, refusing to look over his shoulder or acknowledge the demon. Maybe if he stopped paying attention to her, she'd get bored and leave. Leaves rustled and birds chirped, and Neev tried to focus on the forest sounds and forget about this horrible day.

He must have walked a mile before he turned his head again. Romy was still there, walking several paces behind.

"Hey," she said and waved.

Neev growled and shook his fist. "You're still here?"

"I'm hungry. Feed me." She patted her belly.

"I have no food."

"Get some."

He spread out his arms and his voice rose to a yell. "Where? Do you see any kitchens around? Any shops? Any fruit trees? We are banished into the wilderness thanks to you."

Romy pointed into her mouth. "But I'm
hungry
. Me want fooood."

"I'm hungry too." At the thought of food, his stomach grumbled, and he sighed. Like it or not, he knew, he and Romy were in the same boat; both were tired, hungry, and lost out here. And, like it or not, Romy was his only friend now. The Coven was forbidden to him, and his siblings lived many miles away; right now, this childlike demon was all he had.

He rearranged the pot, backpack, and blanket that hung over his back. "Let's keep walking," he said. "Maybe we'll find some berries on the way."

Romy jumped up and down, grinning. "So I'm allowed to come with you?"

"No. But you're dogging me anyway, and I can't get rid of you."

She smiled and blew him a kiss. "Oh, you like me. I know it. I'm like your little baby, right, Mommy?"

He rolled his eyes. "Stop calling me that."

She skipped beside him, happy as could be, sparks flying from her hair of flame, her demon tail wagging. "Where are we going, Master? Can I call you that?"

He gazed at the birds and squirrels in the treetops, wishing he knew some hunting spells. He could toss a fireball into the trees and roast the critters, but would only burn down the forest. "Just call me Neev."

She chewed her bottom lip. "Where are we going, Master Neev?"

He looked ahead at the rocky, winding trail. It ran as far as he could see, birches and pines lining its sides. "We're going to Hermit Island. It's a place where outcasts live. We can find shelter there, and maybe another hermit will share food with us."

Romy twirled around, arms outstretched. "I like this world. I like you."

"Well, I don't like you. Thanks to you, I'll never become a warlock, and I'm homeless to boot." He knew it was unfair to blame Romy, but couldn't help it; blaming her felt better than blaming himself.

"But we're on an adventure!" she said, swinging her pitchfork as she walked. "That makes it all worthwhile."

Neev froze. Romy kept skipping, but Neev stopped her by raising his hand.

"Hush!" he said and stared at the ground, eyes narrowed. Romy stood beside him, staring down with him, tapping her chin. Strange tracks covered the trail; they looked like human feet, but moss covered the footprints, raising smoke and stench. Neev clenched his fists, ice shooting down his spine.
A monster.
He hadn't seen monsters since the night Burrfield had burned, and the anguish rushed back into him.

"What is—" Romy began, but Neev hushed her with finger to her lips. Something scuttled in the bushes. Neev's rabbit ears twitched. He saw the leaves move and heard snorting and creaking.

His heart bursting into a gallop, Neev slowly lowered his backpack and muttered the first words of a spell.

A creature burst from the bushes, a pale figure covered in moss, mushrooms, and snails, clad only in strands of lichen.
A moldman
, Neev knew. Its maw opened wide, revealing rotting teeth and a lolling white tongue. Screeching, it rushed toward Neev, brandishing claws.

Romy shrieked in fear, and Neev tossed the fireball he summoned, eyes narrowed. With a crackle, his rabbit ears vanished, and he felt a tail sprout behind him. The fireball crashed into the moldman, knocking it down. It groaned, kicked its feet, then lay still and smoking.

Neev took shaky breaths, a monkey's tail peeking under the hem of his cloak.
God help us, what is a moldman doing here?
His heart pounded against his ribs.

Hair crackling, Romy knelt beside the burned creature. "A moldman!" she said and shuddered. "These creatures are known in the underground. We demons hate them, and they hate us. What's one doing here? They usually sleep in the earth, waking up only to hunt worms." She began to suck her thumb, trembling. Then she noticed Neev's monkey tail and her eyes widened. She removed her thumb, started to giggle, and reached out to grab the tail. Neev pulled it away, glowering.

He took a few more shaky breaths, trying to hide the tremble in his fingers. This creature was different than those that had invaded Burrfield, but nevertheless, the sight of a monster filled him with memories. The agony of that day, five years ago, flooded him. The day grobblers killed his parents. The day he swore to become a warlock. Neev looked down at the dead moldman and felt nauseous.

"Warlocks can summon moldmen," he said softly.

Neev remembered the warlock who had led the grobblers into Burrfield. The man's face had remained hidden in his hood, but Neev had sworn to find him someday.
I swore I'd become a warlock powerful enough to kill him.

But what would happen now? He was banished from the Coven just when he needed all his training. Monsters were returning, and Neev felt like a boy again, helpless to stop them.

Being out in the forest suddenly seemed very, very frightening.

Romy slipped her hand into his. Her hand was hot, and Neev squeezed it, more lost and confused than he'd been since Burrfield burned.

Chapter Four

Twisted Tongue, Straight Arrows

It was her sixteenth birthday, and tonight Cobweb would be anointed an adult spiderling... or outcast into a life of exile and pain.

She swam in the pond, waterlilies blooming around her, glowing dragonflies circling above. She tried to calm her worry by admiring the sunlight on the water, the chirping of robins in the surrounding alders, and the sound of the waterfall behind her.
Spiderlings are never really banished on their Star Ceremonies,
she told herself.
That only happens in stories.

She placed her feet down on the lake-bed and sighed. Her thoughts always sounded so coherent. If only she could speak as clearly as she thought, she'd have no cause for concern. But when she spoke....

Cobweb took a deep breath and tried speaking her thoughts aloud. "S-s-spidewwings awe nevew weawy b-banished," she said. "D-dat o-o-onwy happens in stowies."

She sighed. It was no use. No matter how hard she tried, she could not speak like an adult. She sounded like a baby just learning to talk.
Everyone thinks I'm stupid because I sound funny,
she thought.
If only they could hear my thoughts, they'd know I'm smart.

Cobweb stepped out of the pond onto a grassy shore. Sunbeams glowing around her, she slipped on her dress, a dress woven of gossamer that glowed like moonlight. Upon her head she placed a garland of crocuses, purple like her skin, and donned a necklace of painted apple seeds.
I'll be fine,
she told herself, watching birch leaves float in the lake.
There's nothing to worry about.
She tried speaking the words aloud: "N-n-nutting to wowwy about."

Cobweb sighed.

It wasn't fair. All her friends anxiously awaited their Star Ceremonies, spending moons (if not years) planning the event. After all, a Star Ceremony—the night a spiderling turned sixteen—was the most important day ever.
Ever.
When the first star twinkled, the clan elders would pass judgment upon the girl. If she was perfect, she would be anointed with dew, becoming an adult of the clan. And if she was impure, well....

Cobweb shook her head and began walking between the birches, bluebells carpeting the forest floor and caressing her bare feet. She tried not to think about it, but she couldn't help remembering the tale of poor Tangleweb. The spiderling had lived here a hundred years ago, born with a birthmark beneath her eye. The elders had deemed her impure, a danger to the spiderling race. They banished her from Spidersilk Forest, and spiderlings whispered that the humans caught poor Tangleweb and ate her.

Cobweb shivered. "B-but dat was d-diffewent," she told herself. Spiderlings lived for beauty, for purity, and poor Tangleweb had been marred.
I myself have no physical deformity.
Her hair was milky white and glowing, her eyes blue as sapphires, her skin perfect lavender.
Will the elders deem my voice a monstrosity?

"M-m-monstwosity," she tried, then sighed. It was no use.
Why must I sound like a baby?
Tears filled her eyes, and she caressed the spiderweb tattooed onto her shoulder.
Please help me tonight, spider spirits.

She walked between the trees, heading toward Memory Meadow, the holiest place in the forest, the place where every Star Ceremony was held. Cobweb walked as slowly as could be, dreading sunset. It was dangerous wandering alone, she knew. Humans could burst through the trees, wielding weapons of that strange, hard material called "temal" (or something of the sort). Humans loved eating spiderlings, Cobweb knew... though right then, she'd prefer to face a human army over the scrutinizing elders.

I just have to keep my mouth shut,
Cobweb told herself.
If the elders ask me anything, I'll just nod or smile.
She could not, of course, pretend to lose her voice. Falling ill was the worst sign of impurity.

A starling landed on her shoulder, and Cobweb patted the bird, tears on her cheek.
I don't want to be exiled,
she thought.
I love Spidersilk Forest.
She tried saying it aloud, practicing: "I w-w-wove Spidewsiwk Fowest."

Cobweb sighed.

Soon she heard tinkling laughter ahead, the laughter of spiderlings, a sound like rain on flowers.
I'm here.

Cobweb stepped into Memory Meadow, the heart of Spidersilk Forest, the heart of every spiderling. The towering Memory Boulders stood in a ring around the meadow, each taller than Cobweb, glistening with golden runes. The Ancient Ones had arranged these monoliths in the shape of the planets, carving the runes that collected starlight. Pollen glistened in sunbeams that fell upon the meadow, and flower petals glided through the air. On most days, only the elders were allowed in Memory Meadow, the caretakers of its magic. Today, for Cobweb's Star Ceremony, a hundred spiderlings sang and laughed here.

Singing their songs, tunes formless and playful as butterflies fluttering, the spiderlings were arranging baskets of fruit and jugs of wine. Glittering dragonflies and fireflies haloed around their heads, lazily gliding, leaving wakes of golden powder. The spiderlings wore gossamer over their lavender skin, and flowers filled their glowing white hair. Humans were separate from nature, Cobweb knew, and could at best form a bond with it; spiderlings had always been part of nature, one with flowers and stones and leaves.

Her two best friends, Gossamer and Webdew, were hanging strings of glowing riverstones upon the birches. They noticed Cobweb and ran toward her, feet silent in the grass.

"You're here!" they said and hugged her.

Cobweb looked at all the spiderlings who smiled at her, standing among
bouquets, the sunbeams glowing upon them. "It-it's b-beautifuw," Cobweb whispered.

But not every spiderling loved Cobweb. As she walked through the meadow, holding her friends' hands, some spiderlings snickered. Others whispered amongst themselves. "There comes the baby," one girl whispered to her friend, probably not meaning Cobweb to hear, but she heard anyway. Her eyes moistened.
I'm not a baby,
she thought, biting her lip.
It's not my fault that I talk like one.

Her friend Webdew, her skin soft purple and her sapphire eyes sparking, gave Cobweb's hand a squeeze. "Just ignore them," she said. "Who cares what they think?"

Gossamer, her other friend, nodded. She wore feathers strewn through her glowing white hair, and acorns hung from her pointy ears. "Those who whisper are the real babies."

Cobweb nodded, sniffing back tears. "T-tank you."

The feast soon began, the spiderlings settling in the grass before wooden bowls of fruits, but Cobweb could not eat. She sat before her bowl, not touching it. She held a goblet of raspberry juice but could not drink. Around her the spiderlings ate, drank, danced, and sang, but Cobweb sat silently, twisting her toes.

Gossamer noticed her unease and kissed Cobweb's cheek. "You'll do great," she said. "Just think—tonight you'll be an adult."