The boy and the skeleton walked side by side down the forest path. Lucas saw the little black spider sometimes appear in Charlie’s earhole or peering out of the hole in the bottom of the skull; it seemed to never quite settle down. The skeleton was absentmindedly picking at the remains of the webs the little arachnid had thrown at them earlier, when it had been gigantic.
“Is it sticky?” he asked.
“It jams up my joints a little. And it’s untidy looking,” Charlie answered.
“The stream isn’t too far from here, and we are coming up on the raspberries,” Lucas said, chuckling. In front of them the dirt path winding through the trees shone a bright golden yellow in the sunlight. Suddenly Lucas saw a figure wearing long black robes walking down the path towards them at a brisk pace.
“Look, someone’s there,” Lucas said, pointing.
“Ah, yes. Someone you know?” the skeleton asked. Lucas shook his head. The figure was an older man, walking fast and closing the distance quickly. It almost seemed like he was heading straight for them. When he was in shouting distance he raised an arm, pointing in their direction.
“You! Stop right there!” the robed man yelled. He looked older than Lucas’s father, with a scraggly, graying beard and bushy brows that were furrowed with anger.
“Hello there,” Charlie said amiably. The man did a double-take, as if he couldn’t believe what he had just heard. He glared at the skeleton.
“What? Shut up, golem! Why are you talking? Blasted ritual book, I knew there was something wrong with that spell!” he growled.
“My name is Charlie, not golem,” the skeleton said in a mildly reprimanding tone.
“I said shut up! You are most definitely not Charlie, or Tom, or Hank, or any other silly tomfool name. You are my golem, and I command you to be silent and come with me!”
“I don’t know who you are, but in these parts we don’t take kindly to that kind of talk,” Lucas replied, adding a muttered “sir” under his breath, not really meaning it. He did most certainly not like this man.
“I am the great sorcerer Morgan, and you will show me respect, you little toad!” the old man hissed, flecks of spittle flying from his mouth. Charlie stepped in front of Lucas protectively. “Stand aside, golem, so I may wring the squawking runt’s neck! I command you!” Morgan hissed, but the skeleton stood its ground.
“That is neither my name, nor do I care about your commands,” Charlie replied. The skeleton’s eye sockets started glowing with a dim red light that came from somewhere inside the skull. A red fog swirled from its bones and consolidated into the fiery bear-like dog. The dog squared up to the old man and breathed a powerful blast of flame and burning hot air at him with a deafening roar. Morgan cried out in pain and shouted something unintelligible; there was a sudden burst of rainbow-colored light that made stars appear in Lucas’s eyes. He had to turn away for a moment, but when his vision cleared again he was astounded to see not one, but several Morgan the sorcerers glowering at them, all in the same black robes.
The dog shot forward at the closest of the identical looking men, lunging at his throat, but the moment it touched him the apparition turned into a glob of steaming black sludge that blew apart with a wet boom, splashing the dog. All the other apparitions laughed maliciously as the poor dog clawed at its stained mouth, retching at the acrid smelling stuff.
“You’ll pay for that!” Charlie shouted. The skeleton’s eye sockets looked like there was a furnace inside the skull, giving it a truly spooky appearance. Charlie went after another of the identical Morgan figures, trying to grab it. Again, it exploded wetly into a tar-like substance that covered the skeleton, skull to toe-bones. The goopy mass clung wetly to the white bones and gummed up the joints. Charlie was still standing, but could move only sluggishly. The dog meanwhile fought another mirror image of the sorcerer, with the same result as before: black tar now fully covered its front half and most of its face, blinding it. It was out of control, snapping at everything nearby. Rolling around the ground it slammed into Charlie and started biting and clawing at the skeleton; they both went down wrestling. Morgan and his many apparitions laughed from many throats.
“You may be a failure, but I will enjoy studying your remains, golem. And as for you, little runt, I shall put you in a cage and feed you table scraps for my amusement, until I get bored of your antics,” the sorcerer’s hissing voice said from all around. Lucas wanted nothing more than to run away, but that would mean leaving Charlie to the vicious old man’s mercy. The skeleton and the red dog had stopped struggling and were lying still, as if the black stuff had sapped them of all their strength. Lucas wanted to scream at Charlie to get up and call the huge spider to their aid as well, but he was afraid Morgan had more terrible magic still that would defeat even that fearsome creature. He decided on a desperate plan, hoping they had the luck to pull it off. Kneeling by the unmoving skeleton’s side he spoke to Charlie in a grief-stricken voice.
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“The sorcerer is too strong for us, Charlie. I think we have to give up and hope he doesn’t hurt us if we go quietly. I’m so afraid, but I can bear the fear because we are friends and at least we are afraid together. We’ve been through scary things before, haven’t we? Remember when we were both so afraid it was as if we were stuck in a spider’s web?” Lucas said, hoping his skeleton friend got the hint and that Morgan didn’t get suspicious. Charlie nodded feebly, and Lucas stroked the stained skull comfortingly. The tiny spider crawled to one of the eye sockets and just in the moment Lucas’s hand brushed past it clung on to it. He stood up, concealing the tiny arachnid; Morgan didn’t seem to have noticed. The many identical apparitions came together and fused into a single person, who grinned evilly at his captives.
“Good, you finally realized the futility of resisting the power of my sorcery. Turn around and put your hands behind your back so I can bind them. I’ll not have any further trouble out of you, runt!” he growled. Lucas obediently did as instructed, gently nudging the spider to stay out of sight. It hung upside down from his forearms; the little legs on his skin tickled, but Lucas would not fidget. The old man’s shadow fell on him as he approached, and he felt calloused, rough hands starting to wrap a piece of tough string around his wrists. When the moment felt right he grabbed on as strongly as he could, shouting “Now!”, and felt the little legs scrabble forward and off his wrist.
Morgan’s hands shot out of his grip with such force it made him wince; for a moment Lucas wondered if the little spider would be able to hold or would be flung away, and their chance was lost. But Morgan’s angry shout turned into an ear-splitting shriek. The old man shook his arms wildly, slapping himself all over, but the spider was always elsewhere already. It sped from his hands over his shoulder like lightning. Lucas sensed an opportunity and ran at him full speed, attempting to knock him over. Despite the scrawny appearance of the sorcerer it felt like running headlong into a wall: the older man didn’t fall, but was unbalanced enough to give the spider another chance at a good bite.
Lucas moved out of the way of the wildly flailing sorcerer on all fours so he wouldn’t get trodden on. It didn’t take long before the potency of the spider’s attacks became evident. Where it had bitten, Morgan’s skin was deep blue and swollen, and the man was moving unsteadily, as if drunk or ill. The spider had magically grown to almost house cat size. As its sharp, black pincers pierced Morgan’s side the man shrieked loudly and fell down. Charlie had crawled towards the struggle and was starting to throttle Morgan with bony fingers, while the still growing spider crawled towards the sorcerer’s head, preparing for a final, deadly bite.
“No, stop!” Lucas shouted. Charlie and the spider both froze. Morgan’s breathing was labored, and his face had gone an odd green color.
“Please, spare me! I will make it worth your while, I promise,” the sorcerer stammered, grunting with pain. The bravado of only a moment before was gone: he sounded like a sick old man. Both Charlie and the spider made no move to attack, but neither did they let go of him; they seemed to wait for Lucas to speak.
“How can we trust you? You could just come back to attack us later!” Lucas retorted. He desperately wanted to get far away from the dangerous sorcerer, but couldn’t see how they could let him go safely.
“I won’t, you have to believe me! I will sign a magical contract that even I can’t break. And you can keep the golem!” Lucas looked skeptical.
“The poison, it’s going to kill me if I can’t get to my lair to heal it in time. I will even give you the book that I used to create the golem, er, Charlie! You can use it to make it stronger, better in every way!” Morgan’s voice had an unmistakable edge of desperation. Lucas felt a mix of shame and horror hearing the man’s pleas, despite Morgan trying to kill both of them only a moment ago; but he was deeply relieved that maybe neither he nor his friend would be forced to pay the sorcerer back in kind.
“I accept. Write the magical contract, and I get the book, and Charlie is free from you. But I warn you, one false move…”, Lucas said, trying to hide his relief. Morgan nodded eagerly. They let go of him with Lucas, Charlie and the spider watching his every move. The old man unslung a small satchel he’d been carrying and hastily emptied it on the ground. A black leather-bound book fell open, revealing pages full of tiny handwriting and strange drawings and diagrams. Morgan weakly threw it at Lucas’s feet. The sorcerer grabbed a piece of grubby parchment and scrawled feverishly on it with a quill, then picked up a knife that had also been in the satchel. Lucas tensed at this, fearing some subterfuge, but Morgan only used it to cut into his own finger and dropped a little bit of blood on the parchment while chanting strange words. The writing glowed a brilliant red briefly. Morgan held the parchment out to Lucas.
“Touch it, and the contract is sealed. You will understand what it says,” the sorcerer said, with a weak and wavering voice. He looked very pale and had gone a faint green color. Lucas put a hesitant finger on the parchment and the writing gleamed bright green for a moment. He could read, barely, but the scrawled script was undecipherable; yet, somehow he understood that the contract stated that Morgan the sorcerer was hereby bound by pain of instant death to never harm Lucas or those close to him as long as he lived. He stepped away from the old man, who was sweating profusely.
“Then you are free to go,” Lucas said, wondering how the old man would get back to his lair, wherever it was, and if he should offer help. Morgan hurriedly opened a small pouch that was hanging on his belt and took out a peculiar, black and red mottled egg. He broke it open and a tiny, furry creature fell out of it. It was small and weak and looked as vulnerable as a newborn bat. Lucas watched it warily, fearing some trick. The bat started growing, slowly at first. The thing writhed and shook and seemed to be in pain, but soon it was as large as a dog, then the size of a man, until finally it stood up, its huge wings unfolding from its back. Morgan spoke to it in an unknown language, getting out just a few sentences before he collapsed, unconscious. The bat creature picked up the old man as easily as if he was a child’s doll, spread its wings and flew away. Lucas watched them disappear into the summer sky, his mouth hanging open in wonder.