Goldie pulled herself back to the present.

She saw Samson beside her, trying to move Mana from his core into his chelicerae—trying in a very unsteady, hasty way that looked unstable to her. Goldie wanted to warn him to be careful, but she recognized that calling out to him could be distracting and do more harm than good.

She forced herself to stay quiet. If Samson blew off one of his fangs, Adon could heal him. It would be fine. Samson had to make his own mistakes. All of her children did.

After around ten seconds of charging, she saw Samson lose control of his Mana. Rather than blowing off a chunk of his face, as she had feared, however, the gathered power—too weak to do much damage, perhaps—wafted away from Samson in a pale haze.

Darn it, Samson sent quietly.

Just try again, Goldie transmitted quickly. I will try too, this time.

She stood beside him, and the two spiders each attempted Adon’s Mana ball. For Goldie, it felt like this was a completely natural process—as if Adon had opened a door, and all she had to do was walk through it.

She reached down to her core, pulled Mana out, and directed it into her mouthparts. As the power moved quickly out of the light that dwelled in her inner darkness, she felt the development of a slowly building, steady, warm glow on the end of her mouthparts. This was perfect, exactly how she remembered Adon doing it.

Next she focused on extending the Mana further beyond the ends of her mouthparts, and she could actually see the results of her actions. Just a gentle glow slightly further away from her head, still touching her mouthparts but now far enough away that if there was an enemy, she had a sort of energy dagger to strike them with that had a longer reach than her actual fangs.

Now try to focus it into an energy ball, she thought.

That was what Adon had done.

She was so focused on this single task that she could not track whether Samson was succeeding beside her. If she turned her attention away, she might just lose control and maim herself in the way that she had feared Samson would.

She felt more than saw a ball of Mana forming just in front of her mouth. Only a little corner of the ball was visible to her eyes, since it was so close to her face, but the concentrated Mana gave off very perceptible heat. Goldie had no doubt that she was succeeding in the mission.

She poured more power into it until it felt difficult to contain.

Then Goldie aimed it at a bush, and she tried to fire it.

The ball burst forward from between her jaws and struck the plant, tearing through and wreaking havoc on the interior of the bush and the plants immediately behind it, until it struck the dirt and grounded itself.

I think that was even bigger than Adon’s first time, Goldie thought excitedly. I did it!

She turned to see how Samson was doing, and she saw a large ball of power concentrated in front of her son’s mouthparts. It was even larger than Samson’s tiny body thus far.

Just like his mother, he launched the attack at the poor, unsuspecting bush.

The plant seemed to give up on life after suffering a second Mana ball inside of two minutes. Major branches collapsed, and half of the bush collapsed in on itself. There was a sudden flurry of motion accompanied by the indignant squeaking of chipmunks rendered suddenly without shelter.

Well done, guys! Adon sent. I knew you could do it.

Samson’s body shook slightly after the exertion of this experiment, and Goldie wondered if he really should be doing magic when he was at such an early stage of his development.

Yeah, I was sure we could, Samson transmitted. His inner voice trembled.

I think you should take a rest, son, Goldie sent quietly. You used a lot of Mana just now.

Why don’t you both take a rest, and I’ll send you another memory? Adon asked. I feel much better now than I did earlier. I have enough energy to do it once more today, and this memory should be more complete.

Goldie was about to object that the last memory had been amazingly complete, and he should not strain to do any better than he had before—if, indeed, that was somehow possible.

But Samson responded faster.

That sounds amazing, Adon, he sent. You’re helping us grow by leaps and bounds, man.

Adon fluttered his wings in a way that communicated to Goldie that he was pleased and flattered.

Are you ready, too, Goldie? he asked.

I am, Adon, she transmitted. She could think of nothing else to say. She felt bad about her friend exerting herself again so soon, but perhaps after this was done, she could convince him—and Samson—that they should leave this new ability alone for a while and let Adon do some training of his own.

As she was thinking about letting Adon do his own thing for a while, the impact of his telepathic ability struck her like a tidal wave.

Goldie’s consciousness was instantly pulled into his vision. She descended into what felt like an infinity of darkness, a black void illuminated only by an orange orb that floated overhead.

This place was only vaguely familiar to her—she recognized that she had an inner location like this, from whence she drew her Mana—but she did not feel her own relative unfamiliarity very deeply. Instead, she had the sensation that it was a return visit.

Goldie had to forcefully remind herself that this was not her memory. The feeling of dwelling within it was so immersive now—Adon had gotten so much better at memory transmission—that she had begun to identify with the memory as if she was the rememberer, rather than the recipient of a story told via an unusual method.

Once she had made herself understand again that this was Adon’s memory she was experiencing, that these were his emotions and sentiments she was feeling, the dissonance made sense.

In Adon’s memory, of course, he knew this place better than she did. This was not, she sensed, the memory of his first time visiting the darkness—although it was, she thought, the first time he had moved around freely within it.

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She wandered the black space in Adon’s body, only half-aware of what he was looking for, because Adon himself had only half-known what he was looking for. The tug of the place was not a specific ability that he could acquire here. It was the allure of power in general.

Goldie found herself gripped by trepidation as she was brought from one place to another within the darkness, though in the back of her mind, she knew that Adon must have survived this experience. In this memory, he was only a caterpillar, which established it firmly in the past.

Still, the experience was distressing.

Was it just Adon’s imagination, or were the seemingly empty spaces in the darkness—really, shadows on top of shadows, somehow—speaking to him? Taunting him? Promising him knowledge, power, whatever his heart desired, if only he would reach out to them…

Goldie felt a visceral fear of this space, and she knew at once that it was not one of the secondhand emotions that this memory-vision conferred. It was her own fear.

Some of the paths Adon considered—for paths somehow offered themselves to him out of pure, seemingly formless darkness—set off alarm bells for Goldie but not for Adon. She wondered if her fear threshold was simply lower than his.

Probably it was.

Somehow, he seemed to banish the fear and the distraction of multiple paths to the back of his mind. He focused and entered into a tunnel-vision-like state, moving toward his desire.

His thought in the memory was so specific and clear that it resonated through Goldie’s mind.

Illusions. He wanted to find illusion magic.

But he does not have that, does he? Goldie thought, again taking herself out of the experience slightly.

A moment later, she was pulled back in. The tunnel-like quality of Adon’s consciousness in this memory gave it a greater gravitational pull.

She noticed that the orb of orange light—Adon’s Mana—followed along with him. That would be useful, when and if the time came for her to explore this place.

Goldie experienced visions of Adon’s death and recognized that he was imagining it so vividly that these images had made an impression on his memory—either that, or his memory was simply so perfect that he recalled each detail of every memory, which was believable given the detail in each of these experiences so far.

Will I see my own death if I enter this place? How did you get through this, Adon?

Suddenly, Adon stood before a great black statue with a crooked form and thousands of limbs. The figure was terrible and imposing, like an ancient tree possessed by some malevolent spirit. And it called out to Adon.

Goldie wanted to cry out, No, stay away!

But it was a memory. She could affect nothing.

She could feel how close Adon was to giving in. The caterpillar was almost ready to reach out to it. And Goldie could swear the statue was reaching back somehow. Then something shifted in the caterpillar’s mind—or perhaps his body?—both?—and he stopped himself.

Thank Goddess…

Then she heard the thing’s voice in Adon’s head: Why do you run from power? Endless desperation inside you. We could give it shape, focus, purpose! Come back. Come back…

The caterpillar distanced himself quickly, and Goldie wanted to make him move even faster. The figure behind continued screaming after him. Why do you run?! Come back, insect! Come and take your destiny in your hands. The power is here!

Goldie realized at the same time Adon did that he was running away blindly, and that was almost as bad in this place full of hazards as simply touching one of the horrors that wanted to kill him. Thankfully, the caterpillar forced himself to slow down.

So this is the world of magic. She heard Adon’s thought as clearly as if it were her own.

And Goldie felt his emotions. Despite always seeming so fearless, Adon was genuinely frightened here. He had to fight to regain control of himself.

Despite having a close run-in with something that certainly intended him harm and might have had the power to kill him instantly or torture him to death over a much longer period, she sensed the resolve in Adon’s mind.

He was staying here until he found what he was looking for. He refused to leave.

Adon, you are crazy, Goldie thought. I am already prepared to leave, and this is only a memory.

He wandered through the darkness then. From Goldie’s perspective, his previous sense of purpose seemed almost to have dissolved. His resolution to get illusion magic, which had given him a specific direction—or at least caused this place to offer some specific paths for him to wander along—had worn away.

She thought he was looking for any kind of victory. There was little conscious thought during this part of the experience.

Regardless, he walked a long time. He seemed almost semi-conscious from how little he thought and felt as he walked. He spent a long time just continuously moving forward and repeatedly rejecting shapes in the darkness.

As Goldie had almost given up on seeing this memory through to the end—for surely Adon must run low on Mana or lose his focus at some point—he drew nearer to another shape in the darkness. It was a smaller, less imposing figure, but Goldie still felt guarded about it.

This was not Adon’s feeling. The thing emanated a warmth toward him that seemingly caused him to lower his guard. Its shape appeared, and it seemed to be a wispy thing, like a floating cloth. The outline remained completely dark—hidden from a clear view by dense shadow even as he stood right in front of it.

Even as Goldie remained nervous, because she still remembered the last thing he had almost touched, she could feel Adon’s growing sense of safety around this shape—and the sense of light and warmth that it gave off despite being cloaked in shadow by the nature of this place.

Adon reached out and touched it, and warmth flowed through him, in both his physical body and the sort of surrogate body that moved around in this dark space. Then she felt Adon’s wounds healing—he apparently had some physical wounds in this memory—and she realized which magic he had discovered.

Healing, she thought. That was lucky. What would we have done without that?

Then the memory faded, and she was staring into the open sky, standing next to Samson.

Adon, I almost forgot that I was not you, Goldie sent.

I didn’t forget who I was, but that was amazing, Adon, Samson added. I might have wished I was you, a little bit. You were so brave!

The butterfly puffed himself up a little bit.

Thanks, guys, he sent. His inner voice sounded tired but pleased.

That was how you acquired healing magic, then, Goldie transmitted. It was not quite a question. She had felt the experience intensely and simply wanted to talk about it with someone, even though she was not certain she had much to say.

It was, Adon agreed. Now, do you guys think you can try that?

Goldie recalled the vivid memory, and she wondered. Would I be able to do what Adon did?

She was not questioning whether she could go and find healing magic now. Adon had literally shown her which path to follow through the darkness, roughly how long it would take, and what the healing magic figure looked like. If she failed to acquire this ability after all that, it could only mean that she was not paying enough attention—which was far from the case.

No, she wondered if she would have had the courage and grit to press on despite fear and taunting, resisting the fear of imminent death. She suspected not.

So I probably will not wander the darkness except on paths Adon specifically lays out for me, she thought a little sadly. I suppose I am not very brave, especially when it comes to exploring new places—and that place will always be new and frightening, even if I visit a hundred times.

I think we can do it, mama, Samson sent, pulling Goldie out of her musings.

Oh, yes, Goldie agreed. I think we should do it right away.

There would be no better time to acquire healing magic than before the experience of Adon’s immersive memory transmission had faded.

Samson was nodding.

With a last Thank you transmitted to Adon, the two spiders both disappeared into their dark inner worlds.