Dreadmarrow Thief (The Conjurer Fellstone Book 1) Read online

“How do you think it got in the graveyard? Was someone buried with it?”

  “I don’t know. It wasn’t on anyone’s finger.”

  “I just wonder how someone could be so careless to lose a ring that must be worth more than Papa would earn in three lifetimes,” I said.

  “No idea. In any case, I thought we should tell our parents,” Ash said, “but Lance had the idea to bring it to the swordsmith and trade it for two steel swords.”

  “It must’ve been worth much more than that.”

  “Dunno,” he said. “Swords were priceless to us. But we were idiots. The swordsmith’s livelihood depends on Lord Fellstone and his army. Who else can commission weapons from him? The ring must’ve tempted him… but not enough to overcome his fear of arrest, if we were ever caught with his swords. So instead he snitched.”

  A cold chill crept up my neck.

  “Ratcher came to our house the next day. She had the biggest, meanest-looking boarman with her… she called him Scarface, for obvious reasons. She told us everything would be forgiven if we turned over the ring and showed her where we found it. We weren’t sure whether to believe her, but one thing we knew… she and her boarman would slaughter our whole family in an instant if we hesitated. So we confessed and brought them to the grave where the ring had turned up. It seemed as if we were in the clear… she took a step like she was going to leave… then she nodded at the boarman.” Ash looked away and continued in a thick voice, “He speared Lance through the chest.”

  “Why? Why did they have to do that?” My eyes filled with tears.

  “She said one of us had to pay for not turning the ring in to the garrison. Lance just happened to be nearer the boarman.”

  “So your goal… the reason you’re here… is revenge?”

  He nodded.

  “She’s wicked. I could tell when I first saw her at the castle. I'd like to kill her myself,” I said.

  He shot me a glance. “You saw her at the castle?”

  My mouth dropped open as I realized my mistake. A moment passed while I searched wildly for an explanation that did not involve sparrow-me pausing in flight to perch on a castle window and spy on Lord Fellstone and Ratcher. At last I muttered, “I meant, the house. When you and I saw her at my house.”

  He looked as if he didn’t believe me, but he didn’t comment. We walked on in silence.

  Our pace quickened as the way opened around us and the ground grew softer and more pliant. I took a step and cried out as my foot sunk deep into a mud patch, forcing my other leg down onto its knee. I looked up at Ash for help and what I saw behind him froze my blood. A man but not a man. A shimmering form, not quite solid. Its clothes in tatters. Dark holes where its eyes and nose and mouth should be. A wraith.

  Ash saw my look and spun around to see what caused my fear.

  “I’m stuck!” I said. It felt as if powerful hands gripped my foot under the earth, refusing to release it.

  Ash turned back to me, knelt and grabbed my leg. I leaned on his back to keep my balance while we both pulled.

  The wraith tread straight toward us, as if it could see us with those empty sockets. I gasped in recognition: this was the poor, starved prisoner who was chased and killed by the boarmen outside the castle.

  “We don’t have time, get out your sword!” I told Ash. I yanked my hardest but my foot barely moved.

  The wraith was steps away from us. I drew back from its path as far as I could. Ash—brave Ash—moved in front of me and took out his sword.

  “Halt or I’ll kill you!” he cried, though his words made no sense, the wraith was already dead.

  The creature continued steadily. It knew Ash was powerless against it, or perhaps it didn’t care. Ash slashed at the wraith, but wounds sealed instantly, the moment the sword was withdrawn.

  The wraith passed through Ash’s arm and then through my leg, bringing with it a paralyzing chill, colder than anything I’d ever felt in my life. I shivered convulsively as the creature appeared on my other side, and kept moving forward at the same measured pace.

  “What’s it doing?” I said.

  Ash stared after it. “Lance and I saw one once in the cemetery. It reached out of its grave… gripped the sides… pulled itself out. It didn’t pay any attention to us. Like this one. It went in the direction of the castle. They say Lord Fellstone calls them up.”

  I looked back down. “Help me,” I said. “Let’s try pulling slowly.” We made steady progress so that I broke free moments later. “Hurry now,” I said, wiping my boot on the grass as a short burst of triumph flashed through me. “He isn’t following the path. The wraith knows the way.”

  I grasped Ash’s hand so that we wouldn’t lose each other as we ran through the darkness. But I was surprised at the warm glow that coursed through me when, after a second’s delay, his long fingers folded over mine.

  CALDER

  Every instinct inside him told him to run. It took all his strength of will simply to stand there and not turn away from the revolting scene playing out before him. But he had to do more than that. He needed to step forward, speak to the hag, and somehow pry from her the answer to his question: How did you come to have that bracelet?

  Calder lowered his bag to the ground and tucked his distinctive wristband under his sleeve. His hand brushed the hilt of his dagger as he padded toward her. He gained reassurance from its presence, though he hoped he wouldn’t have to use it.

  The ancient woman eyed him, holding herself motionless except for the mass of spiders on her head.

  “That's a pretty bracelet you have. The one with the fox,” he said.

  Her gaze shifted between Calder and the bracelet. “The one-eyed man likes Arachne’s cunning fox?” Her mouth made clicking sounds as she spoke.

  “Yes, I wonder where I might find one like it.”

  “There is no other. It once belonged to the pretty princess, but she has no more need of it.” Arachne pretended not to watch him. She was a devious one and he would need to be wary. He struggled to hide how sharply her words pierced him. She has no more need of it.

  “Who is the pretty princess?” he said. “Do you mean Lady Fellstone?”

  “The pretty princess who is the master's wife,” Arachne said.

  “Where has she gone?”

  “Why do you not ask her master?” She sat down upon her stool, entirely heedless of the spiders moving in ripples and waves over her head.

  Calder did his best to suppress his revulsion. He held out his arm, revealing his own wristband. “Tell me, and you may have this one too.”

  Her eyes gleamed with avarice. “I will show you, one-eyed man. The pretty princess is right here.”

  Calder caught his breath. “Where?”

  “Look, we made a special place for her. You see?” Arachne directed Calder's eye past her to a heap of bones beyond the tree. He gasped in dismay.

  Web shot out from Arachne’s fingers. She spun like lightning, pinning Calder's arms to his chest before he had time to react. “Help!” he cried out. “Help me!”

  Arachne spun web over his mouth, silencing him. “There will be no help for the one-eyed man.” As the sticky strands whipped round and round his body, she said, “The pretty princess ran away from the master but we caught her. We took her cunning fox and green sparkly ring and saved her for eating later.”

  She hung Calder from a sturdy branch of the tree with a thick loop of her web, so that he was lifted off his feet and left to dangle like the other poor animals she’d caught. When she finished, only his nose, eyes, and wrist were left uncovered. No doubt she wanted to keep him alive until she was ready to devour him. She extracted the bracelet from his wrist with her long claw-like fingernails, and secured it on her own arm beside the fox. He didn’t know why she allowed his eye to remain open, but he guessed she might enjoy an audience to her debaucheries.

  Arachne resumed her seat and picked up the half-eaten rabbit. The spiders swarmed down from her head and attacked the meat in a fe
eding frenzy. An instant later they returned to Arachne's scalp and she tossed the skeleton onto the heap of bones.

  She raised her wrist and gazed with satisfaction at her matching bracelets. “The curious cat and the cunning fox,” she said. Her gaze shifted to Calder. “We are grateful for your gift and shall tell you something in return.” She cringed and backed away from some shadow in her own mind. “We never ate the pretty princess. Master sent his swinish swine-men to take her back. Dreadful, loathsome swine. We hid in the tree and they ate our food. They took our pretty princess and her sparkly ring.”

  She caressed the band. “But we kept the cunning fox for ourselves.”

  There could be no better consolation than the knowledge that Faline had escaped the repugnant Arachne and her arachnid army. The thought of her poor defiled bones scattered here amongst the rest of Arachne’s victims had been too much to bear. But he cursed his carelessness in allowing himself to be caught. He did not believe he could look to his friends for rescue, as they seemed to have lost him entirely, nor could he even hope for a band of swinish swine men to save him. Fellstone would not be sending them out for him.

  ASH

  Ash heard it first, a thin cry for help. He couldn’t say for certain if it was Calder’s voice, but who else could be stranded in the Cursed Wood tonight? A second cry came and this time Tessa reacted.

  “Calder!” she said.

  “That way I think,” Ash said, pointing.

  “We’ll have to lose the wraith,” she said, peering at his face, uncertain if he might object.

  But Ash would never question the need to save one of his own. “So be it,” he said. Appreciation flashed in Tessa’s eyes before they turned and ran through the heavy brush, branches slapping against them, scratching their skin. They needed to reach Calder soon. His cries had stopped and there was nothing further to guide them to him. Ash prayed to the gods his life had been spared.

  They spied movement beneath a huge, spindly tree ahead of them. Ash grasped Tessa’s arm to slow her, and placed his finger on his lips when she looked around. She nodded, and the two of them slunk toward the tree. As they drew closer, they made out the shape of a strange, witch-like woman, who busied herself beneath the branches.

  “There's something strange about her hair,” Tessa whispered.

  Ash’s gaze was fixed on something else. “I think that’s Calder… hanging from the tree.” He stared at the largest bundle.

  Tessa followed his eyes and gasped.

  “Let’s get closer,” Ash said. They picked their way toward where Calder hung.

  Tessa grasped his sleeve and pointed to the side at Calder’s bag, lying where he’d left it on the ground. She darted forward and opened it.

  Ash had seen enough. He straightened and drew out his sword, preparing to attack.

  “Wait,” Tessa whispered. “There might be something here.”

  Ash didn’t believe there could be anything in Calder’s bag more effective than his sword. He’d already defeated a boarman in combat. How can an old woman compare to that? If there was a difference between bravery and foolhardiness, Ash had not yet caught on to it. He bounded past Tessa, while she snorted in frustration, digging into Calder's bag.

  The hag turned at the sound of Ash’s approach. He vaulted across to her, lifting his sword. “Release our friend from the—”

  He lost his voice abruptly, as he had the dreadful realization that what he’d thought of as her hair was instead a vast spider’s nest.

  She gave him a twisted smile, recognizing his fear. She laughed with a clicking sound as her spiders swarmed off her head, onto Ash's sword, up his arm, and all over his body. He cried out, dropped his sword, and threw himself on the ground, twisting and rolling. They’re everywhere. His face, inside his clothing… he couldn’t see, couldn’t breathe, as he writhed in agony.

  He heard Tessa shout from what seemed like a distance: “Call off your spiders.” Still they teemed over him, crawling and biting. He swatted wildly and pounded himself against the ground. If only there were a cliff nearby, he wouldn’t hesitate to jump and make the torture end.

  Someone made a choking sound and then Tessa spoke again: “Call them off or you die!”

  The spiders moved off him in a pulsating mob. He opened his eyes to see the black mass scuttle across the forest floor and climb onto a pile of bones, where they settled and went still. His body still prickled and itched, and he continued to bat at phantom stragglers.

  Finally Ash was able to look up. Tessa stood behind the hag, gripping a thin rope around her neck. She wrenched the rope harder, making the woman choke and sputter.

  “Don't even think of bringing them back here,” Tessa said. “They don't frighten me.”

  Ash pulled himself up, retrieved his sword, and hurried to Calder. He cut him off from the tree but didn’t manage to catch him as well as he would’ve liked—he expected to hear from Calder about that later. Once he had his friend on the ground, he cut through the webbing with little difficulty, though it would take some time to fully remove the sticky residue from his sword and Calder’s clothing and hair.

  As soon as he could move again, Calder drew out his dagger, stalked to the hag, and placed the sharp point under her chin. “Perhaps this will teach you not to trap people,” he said.

  A gasp from Tessa drew Ash’s eyes to her. She was staring at the matching bands Arachne wore, one with a cat, the other a fox.

  Calder spoke as if he wished to reassure her. “It’s all right, Tessa. Your mother escaped.”

  “But how do you—”

  “I’ll try to answer all your questions later.” Calder turned back to the hag. “Tell me where the princess is now.”

  Tessa loosened the rope just enough to allow her to speak in a raspy tone. “It has been ever so long since she was here. But we heard she ran away once more after her master took her back.”

  “Did he find her again and return her to the castle?” Calder asked. When she didn’t answer, he pressed the dagger into her putrid skin. Green blood seeped out.

  “We don't know,” Arachne said. “We keep to ourselves. Leave us alone.”

  “Keep to yourselves? You were going to eat me.”

  “We do not mean any harm. We must eat. The one-eyed man and his friends must eat too.”

  “Tell us how to reach the castle from here,” Ash said.

  Arachne’s eyes lit with a devious glint. “Follow the path,” she said.

  Calder slammed down the knife on the tree root beside her, stabbing one of her spiders that lingered there. She cried out as if he’d cut her own flesh. “Don’t hurt us!” she whimpered.

  “Don’t lie!” Calder said.

  “The web leads to where the master lives,” she said, nodding toward what looked like a thin rope tied around the tree trunk. The rope—which had to be tightly woven spider silk—continued toward another tree. Terrific, thought Ash. More spider stuff.

  There was no further information to be gotten from her. With hemp from Calder’s bag, they tied Arachne into a bundle and hung her from the tree. As they walked away, her spiders swarmed over her.

  “See how you like it,” Calder said, looping his bag over his shoulder. He grasped the rope made of spider silk with one of his hands. “At least it isn’t sticky. I’ll keep hold of it. We might lose sight of it in the darkness.” He led them forward, following the line from tree to tree.

  Ash still brushed at imaginary spiders. Red welts from their bites sprouted up on his hands and face.

  “You must encounter spiders when you're digging graves,” Calder said.

  “Spiders, yes,” Ash said. “Coordinated attack battalions, no.” He shivered and turned to Tessa. “Why aren't you afraid of them?”

  She answered with impatience. “They're just bugs. Birds eat them.”

  He had thought she might be more sympathetic. He was grateful she’d saved him, but felt ashamed she’d seen him at his worst, rolling on the ground, helpless, whimper
ing like a baby. All because of a million tiny creatures that any bird could eat.

  He moved aside as she pressed past him and stepped beside Calder.

  TESSA

  Calder had reclaimed both bracelets from the horrid spider lady, and gave me the one belonging to my mother. I put it on my wrist directly, while questions whirled inside my head. I now felt certain it was no accident that Calder’s bracelet matched hers. If he knew her, why hadn’t he told me sooner?

  I drew up beside him to speak to him. “How did she get my mother’s bracelet?”

  “She stole it from her, just as she stole mine.”

  “If so… how did my mother escape?”

  “Fellstone's boarmen came to her rescue,” Calder said.

  “Why would they do that?”

  “They acted on Fellstone's orders.”

  “What was she to him?”

  He paused to give me all his attention, his single eye full of sympathy. He said gently, “She was his wife.”

  His words made no sense. I thought I must not have heard him correctly and I asked him to repeat it.

  Calder spoke in the same tone he might use to a small child. “Your mother was my friend Faline, who became Lord Fellstone’s wife.”

  I thought Arachne had somehow addled his brain. Perhaps her spiders had injected him with their poison. “That’s ridiculous,” I said. “My mother’s name was Gillian and she was married to my father.”

  “If only your parents had told you. Why must I always be the bearer of bad news?”

  “It isn’t true!”

  Calder sighed. He drew out a faded note from his pocket and handed it to me. I read the note aloud, feeling a tremor building inside me. “Dearest Calder, I've escaped from Fellstone. A kind locksmith has taken me in. Come to me, be my savior. Faline."

  “The letter was sent years ago to the house where I once lived,” Calder said. “They had no idea how to find me. A chance meeting several months ago put the letter into my hands.”

  “Maybe my father helped your friend. It doesn’t make her my mother.”