When Gideon awoke, he found himself in his nice, warm bed. He’d wanted to nap earlier, but he’d never gotten around to it. It seemed almost funny to him now. His right arm had been folded across his chest and placed in a sling. Every muscle in his body felt tender, as if he’d been crunched into pieces then hastily reassembled.

Drinking Ondine’s potion was the last thing he remembered. Though it had healed his injuries as best he could tell, a feeling of weakness remained as if his body was still paying off an alchemical debt.

Before drinking the potion she’d lied to him, hadn’t she? When she’d told him everything would be fine.

Gideon cursed under his breath and sat up in bed. His staff was leaning against the wall next to his pack. Aunt Harmony’s book was sitting on the nightstand, while some of his other books were on a small set of shelves in the corner. Carefully, he swiveled out of bed and placed his feet on the floor. The world spun for a moment before righting itself.

That was a bad sign, wasn’t it?

Blinking his eyes, he remembered he still had a set of notifications he hadn’t read.

Skill Rank Increase! Your proficiency in Manasculpting has increased to Silver Rank, Grade D. Skill Grade Increase! Your proficiency in Geomancy has increased to Silver Rank, Grade A. Skill Grade Increase! Your proficiency in Spiritweft has increased to Copper Rank, Grade C. Skill Grade Increase! Your proficiency in Appraise has increased to Stone Rank, Grade C. Level Up! Your mana core has gained strength. Maximum mana increased.

That meant he was level nine, he realized. When he reached level ten, he’d gain another attribute point. It was a milestone he’d never expected to achieve so soon. And his rank in geomancy was almost Gold. He’d progressed farther and faster than he’d ever dreamed back when he was working as a spellmonkey at EnviroCharm.

But it still wasn’t enough.

He stood up, unsteady on his feet, holding out his hands for balance. Walking slowly and carefully, he left his room and looked around.

“Gideon! It would be best if you went back to bed,” Ondine said. She was floating next to Caelan Whitfield and a couple of the other guests at the end of the hallway.

Caelan looked like he was about to throw another tantrum, but for the first time, Gideon understood why. Ondine floated over as she spoke. “My potion accelerates the healing, but there is no substitute for actual rest. You must go easy on yourself.”

Gideon looked around. “Who’s missing?” he asked.

Ondine shook her head. “Please, go back to bed, and I’ll tell you everything tomorrow.”

“I’d like to know now.”

“Marcus Stormrider is missing,” Caelan said, an edge to his voice. “You managed to lose the son of one of the most important wizards in Prospera. As I was telling your associate, I’m going to get this place shut down if it’s the last thing I do, Mr. Moody.”

Gideon’s exhaustion was almost too much for him. He sighed. “Do whatever you want, Mr. Whitfield. You can deflect the blame, but you’d all be dead twice over if it wasn’t for Clonk.” Gideon remembered the painting Marcus had been working on in his room. “Mr. Stormrider realized that, so it’s funny that you don’t seem to.”

Turning back to Ondine, Gideon said, “Who else?” Caelan shouted something, but Gideon chose to ignore him. He was too tired to argue.

“One of the guards in Mr. Whitfield’s company, a man named Filibin. He was trying to get Marcus to come inside, but…”

“Marcus was having a little too much fun,” Gideon said, shaking his head. “Blasted idiot. Where is Sir Clonk? We have to go get them back right away.”

Without waiting for Ondine to answer, Gideon started walking to the overlook. Odds were, the knight would be there.

“Gideon, wait…” Ondine said, and he stopped dead in his tracks.

“You can’t be serious,” Gideon said. “How the hell did he—”

“There were a lot of webs. They carried him off while Lord Kelvan was occupied.”

“Occupied rescuing me, you mean,” Gideon said, cursing himself.

“They would have taken him regardless,” Ondine said. “He seemed to be their main target. There was nothing you could have done.”

“I had the bright idea of the show in the first place. We might as well have invited the spiders to dinner.” He balled his left hand into a fist. “How long before they finish eating?” Gideon asked. “We have hours? A day? We can’t afford to wait.”

Ondine smiled weakly. “Gideon, please go back to your room. I’ll get Lord Kelvan, all right? He’ll want to talk to you.”

“Right,” Gideon said. “He’ll know what to do.”

After Ondine floated off, Gideon staggered to his room and sat on the edge of his bed. He tapped his foot on the stone floor while he waited. He reached for The Vital Art on the nightstand and began to read.

After a brief introduction, the book’s first section was on casting with every part of your body—channeling mana through your foot or elbow, for example, rather than your hand. Harmony had included a list of exercises to improve one’s mana control. But he found it impossible to focus. He couldn’t stop thinking of the broodmother, of how it had felt to stare into her eyes. She had mesmerized him so easily.

Sighing, he closed the book and put it back on the nightstand.

Uncle Kelvan came in a few minutes later, followed by Grimsby with a tray of food. Pancakes and eggs. Gideon’s stomach growled at the sight of it.

“I’m glad you’re all right,” Kelvan said. “I asked Grimsby to prepare your favorite.”

“Thanks,” Gideon said, picking a fork off the tray and stabbing the closest egg. He took a bite. In truth, his mind was still racing from the night’s events, and he felt too distracted to enjoy the food properly.

“Uncle Kelvan, what does it mean to be moon-touched?”

Kelvan hesitated as if he didn’t want to answer. “You saw that? On the spider?”

“The mother, yes. I appraised her. She was a moon-touched Silkspinner Matrifex, whatever the hell that is.”

“I noticed,” Kelvan said.

“What does it mean?”

“It means she’s been exposed to power beyond her ken, Gideon. And yours.” He sighed. In the mirror, he pulled a chair into view and sat down. He leaned forward, resting his hands on his knees. “The moonstone has been here since ancient times. There are arguments over its origins and how it should be used, if at all. I once experimented with it myself in an attempt to bring back my late wife. It had disastrous consequences. The moonstone contains an incredible amount of mana. There are ways to wield it carefully, but a spider certainly isn’t aware of them. She’s been warped, twisted, by the power beneath this mountain. She’s far more dangerous than I’d thought when I said you and Clonk should go take care of her yourselves after some training.”

Gideon shook his head. “Well, then what do we do?”

Kelvan paused for a moment, stroking his beard. He turned to Grimsby. “Give us a minute, would you?”

The skeleton shrugged from where he’d been leaning against the wall. “Of course, my Lord.” His feet rattled as he walked out, closing the door softly behind him. From out in the hall, Gideon could hear a muffled conversation between Grimsby and Caelan.

If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

Kelvan floated closer. “We’re not sending anyone,” he said quietly.

“What?” Gideon asked. “What do you mean? Clonk is stuck out there, along with two guests.”

“Those guests would have already been dead if he hadn’t helped them in the first place. In hindsight, it would have been better to let that happen.” He placed his hands together and looked Gideon dead in the eyes. “Ondine’s potion is barely holding you together. You still haven’t fully recovered your mana, and though you are now level nine—congratulations—you are no match for a level seventeen.”

“You’re not going to go yourself, then? Even if you don’t care about the guests, we can’t just leave Clonk there—”

“We can, and we will,” Kelvan said. “He’s practically invulnerable. The spiders can’t kill him. He’ll free himself, eventually.”

“Or he’ll stay trapped and lose his mind.”

In the mirror, Kelvan shrugged. “He is not so easily broken. I’m sorry, but I’ve made up my mind.”

Gideon sighed. “You’ve given up on the other two, then.” He shook his head.

“They’re not our responsibility. Remember, we hadn’t even opened yet. They chose to cross the mountains. They should have known better. Unlike Clonk, you can die. You could have been killed tonight. Outside this castle, my powers are limited. Though I’d like to, I can’t pursue them.”

“So we leave them for dead?” Gideon asked. “That’s your plan? What about the inn? Who will want to stay here after Caelan Whitfield tells everyone we let Marcus Stormrider die?”

“I have no idea who that is,” Kelvan said, rubbing his forehead, exasperated. “I haven’t kept track of their names.” He sighed. “Nephew, I know you don’t want to hear this, but we bit off more than we could chew. Perhaps The Last Rest’s first guests should be its last.”

“And what about money?” Gideon asked. “What about fixing the castle?”

Kelvan smiled sadly. “There are other methods of earning coin. Methods with less annoying customers.”

“You know, for a minute there, I thought it might work,” Gideon said as he felt a wave of exhaustion overwhelm him. Was that it, then? They’d given up just like that?

New telescope. The memory of Clonk’s words came to Gideon’s mind unbidden. The knight had said that just before going on stage. That’s all he’d wanted. It was such a simple, honest desire.

Gideon felt tears well up in his eyes. “I put him up to it. This is my fault.”

“I’m sorry, Gideon. If Grimsby were here, you’d be getting a pat on the shoulder right about now.”

“Wow, thanks, Uncle.”

Kelvan didn’t seem to notice the sarcasm. “Listen, Nephew. This powerlessness you’re feeling? Harness it. Use it in your studies and your training. I’m afraid that’s all I can offer you. You must remember that Clonk is older than all of us. Whatever he did, he did it of his own free will. You’re not responsible for him, nor are you responsible for any of those other fools.”

“All right,” Gideon said through gritted teeth. “Thanks for the pep talk.”

“Don’t mention it,” Kelvan said. Once again, he didn’t seem to recognize Gideon’s sarcasm. “We will resume your training once you’ve recovered. And when you’re properly trained, you can rescue Sir Clonk.”

“When I’m properly trained?” Gideon asked.

“The spider was level seventeen, so perhaps when you’re level twenty. Or out of an abundance of caution, maybe level twenty-three.” He stroked his beard, then raised a finger. “Since the spider may have also progressed in that time, let’s make that level twenty-five, just to be extra safe.”

“So, what’s that? A couple of years?”

“At the rate you’re going, maybe only a year and a half,” Kelvan said, voice full of enthusiasm.

“I’m sure he won’t mind the wait,” Gideon said. “Wrapped in webs in a cave full of spiders.”

Kelvan nodded. “I’m glad you understand.”

Gideon fell back into bed and closed his eyes. “I understand perfectly well. Good night, Uncle Kelvan.”

“Good night, Gideon,” Kelvan said and floated towards the doorway. He paused at the threshold. “For what it’s worth, I am sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too,” Gideon said.

----------------------------------------

Gideon lay in bed meditating, waiting for his mind to clear, but it never did. Despite his lack of calm, he felt his mana core slowly refill as time passed.

It was time to go, he knew. Every minute he delayed was another minute closer to their death. Though Kelvan had spoken the truth, Gideon couldn’t lie in bed knowing that two people would die because of his inaction and a third would be imprisoned.

When he climbed out of bed, he saw the sky was still dark outside the window. It had been hours since the ill-fated show, but it wasn’t morning yet.

So he had a chance to save them. A slim one, but a chance nonetheless.

From his pack, he took out his new Etheric Communicator. Since he’d gotten a newer one in the city, he was hoping it would be able to make a connection without him going to the roof.

The communicator chimed three times without an answer. Admittedly, it was very late at night in Prospera.

Flinn’s voice began to speak, as clearly as if he’d been there in person, “Hey, can’t answer you. Leave a note.”

“Hi, Flinn,” Gideon said. “Sorry, this is a weird message. I just wanted to say thank you. You were always a great friend. I’m about to do something stupid, so if you don’t hear from me again, I’m sorry. Take care of yourself.”

He sighed and clicked the side of the crystal to end the call. Then he fed more of his mana into the communicator.

A woman’s voice came on, sounding annoyed before he’d even said anything.

“State your emergency,” she said.

“Hi,” Gideon said. “Don’t hang up. I need help. I’m in the mountains outside of Emberly, and Marcus Stormrider has been captured by a swarm of giant spiders, and he’s going to die unless—”

“I’m sorry, but we only handle emergencies in Prospera and the surrounding area.”

“Yes, sure, I know that,” Gideon said. “But Emberly is such a small town, I don’t think they have anyone who would be equipped to deal with—”

“—with a swarm of giant spiders, mm-hmm. And, uh, you said Marcus Stormrider was in danger? Stormrider as in Councilor Stormrider?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“Sure, kid. Whatever you say. Listen, don’t waste our time with pranks like this again.”

“I’m serious! Please, pass along the message to Councilor Stormrider. If it’s bullshit, you can arrest me or whatever. But I swear I’m not lying.”

The woman sighed. “Listen. I’ll pass along the message. But even if you’re telling the truth, we couldn’t muster a response all the way out in Emberly until tomorrow at the earliest.”

“I understand,” Gideon said. Part of him had expected that. But he’d needed to try. He ended the call and put the communicator back into his pack.

Gideon stuffed some of his dirty clothes and a spare pillow under the bedsheets, making a roughly human-shaped lump. Then he gingerly removed his arm from the sling. Though it still hurt when he stretched it, the potion had healed most of the damage by now. He changed into a fresh set of robes and traveling boots, then grabbed his staff and quietly slipped out of his room.

The hallway was quiet. Thankfully, the other guests had gone to bed. He grabbed one of the lanterns that was hanging on the wall and took it with him down the stairs.

As he passed the portrait of Kelvan and Harmony Kastorus, he wondered what Harmony would think of him. He hoped, somehow, she might have approved.

He passed through the great hall and out into the courtyard, letting the door close quietly behind him with a clack. The cool night air washed over him. He took a deep breath and headed for the gate.

He was halfway there when a deafening shout sounded from the direction of the castle.

“Gideon Moody!” Gideon jumped as Ondine floated in front of him. “Where do you think you’re going? Lord Kelvan told you to rest, and so did I.”

“I know,” Gideon said. “But I still have business down the mountain.”

Ondine shook her head. “Listen, if you die, you’re not only dooming yourself. You’re dooming the rest of us, too. You’re dooming your Uncle and his chance of a future outside these walls.”

“I’m sorry for that,” Gideon said. “I really am. But I still need to try.” He walked forward, passing through Ondine as she glared at him.

“I’m sorry, too,” Ondine said, and she began to scream.

The force of the sound was like a shockwave, knocking him forward into the dirt. He tried to drag himself towards the gate, but Ondine moved above him, and the force of her wail pushed him down, pinning him to the ground.

“Ondine,” Gideon said, gasping for breath. It felt like she’d taken a hammer to his eardrums. “I thought we were friends.”

“We are,” she said, pausing for a breath. “That’s why I can’t let you throw your life away.”

He managed to pull himself forward by a few inches until she screamed again, and he sank into the dirt, clapping his hands over his ears. Though it muffled the sound, the force of it still held him there, as if the air itself wished for him to stay still.

Gideon reached towards the gate again, trying to claw himself forward, but the force was too much for him.

“That’s enough,” Grimsby said, and the screaming ceased. Gideon turned around to see the skeleton standing there, his jaw firmly set. He was carrying what looked like a satchel and was dressed in his Rattlebandit costume—ridiculous hat, beard, and all.

“Grimsby,” Ondine said, waving her hand in the air dismissively. “Be a darling and grab him for me, will you? Poor Gideon needs to go back to bed and rest. He’s lost his damned mind.”

Grimsby walked over to Gideon, his bony feet crunching in the dirt, and reached out a hand. As he got closer, Gideon saw he was wearing something strange, like a backpack with a tube sticking out of it. “Come on, bub,” the skeleton said. “It was dumb of you to come out here by yourself. What did you expect to happen?”

Gideon shook his head sadly. “I don’t know,” he said. “I couldn’t just leave them there.” He took Grimsby’s hand and slowly climbed to his feet.

“What is all that?” Ondine asked, seeming to notice Grimsby’s getup for the first time.

Grimsby dug into his satchel, then pulled out a thin glass vial of shimmering silver fluid and tossed it towards Ondine.

It shattered on the ground, and a thin gas began to form.

“This is the part where we run,” Grimsby said to Gideon, then turned and darted towards the gate. After a moment of shock, Gideon followed, sprinting as fast as he could.

From behind them, Gideon heard Ondine wail again, but this time the sound was muted as if it was coming from a great distance away.

They reached the gate and kept running.

“Come back here, minions!” Lord Kelvan shouted. Gideon looked back over his shoulder and saw the mirror floating up in the darkness above the gatehouse, glinting with the light of the moon. “You damned fools!”

Once they were out of earshot of the castle, Grimsby slowed to a stroll, and Gideon did the same. He grabbed the skeleton by the shoulders and gave him an awkward hug.

“You saved me,” Gideon said. “Thank you.”

Grimsby patted him softly on the shoulder.

“I might have doomed you, actually. But if there’s one thing I believe in, it’s the right of everyone to make their own damned decisions.”

A moment of silence passed between them, interrupted only by the howl of a distant wolf and the whistling of the wind flowing down the mountain.

“You do have a plan, right?” Grimsby asked. “Because if you actually get yourself killed tonight, I’m going to look really bad.”

“I have half a plan,” Gideon said and smiled sheepishly.

“Oh, great,” Grimsby said, sounding relieved. “Thankfully, I have the other half, so I think we’re set.”

----------------------------------------

Copyright © 2023 Tater Prince. All rights reserved. No part of this work may be reproduced or used in any manner without the prior written permission of the copyright owner, except for the use of brief quotations in a review.

This novel is only posted here on Royal Road. If you see it anywhere else, please let me know! Thank you.