“The Spells stopped,” said [Lord] Gaius as he stood in his garden wearing what passed for pajamas in this world.

“Astute observation dear,” said his wife with a small shake of the head. She wasn’t being sarcastic, either. She knew her husband had a tendency to say obvious things out loud whenever he started to reason about something. He worked better when he could hear himself.

“And we know where they first fired,” he continued slowly, his eyes alighting on an area of ground that had been scorched by lightning, the snow around it melted.

He stepped closer to that area of ground, his gaze following the path of the Spells that had blasted the walls around the mansion. Only the walls. As if they were targeting something outside. But that made no sense: they were programmed to activate only when the [Ward] Spells were triggered, signaling the position of an intruder.

A lesser man would’ve thought of this as a misfire, or something along those lines. Gaius Flick de Bois was not one such man. He had been the third son of a family of nobles who’d gained their title through money and commerce and the most brilliant between his brother and sister. Had he been born first he would’ve been more than just a piece of flesh good only for marrying into greater power for his family. Not that he regretted that now.

“The [Scrying] Spells around the mansion revealed nothing?” he asked Gregory again.

The [Spy Butler] nodded: “Absolutely nothing Sir.”

Gaius nodded: “Send out our [Guards] then. But don’t make them search around the area targeted by the Spells. Make them look in the area that wasn’t targeted.”

“Sir?” Gregory looked confused.

“It’s just a hunch Greg, but I have a feeling whoever caused this is playing with our spellwork. It’s probably a high Level individual who’s using a Skill to cause a distraction. Devious, but not good enough.”

The [Butler] nodded and set out to do as he had been ordered.

“As for us, dear,” he continued, looking at his wife, “Let’s go hide anything of importance, shall we?”

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

The inside of the fortress was… underwhelming.

“This is just sad,” said Siidi, voicing their feelings.

“What, you were expecting something more? Do I have to remind you that this is just a projection of a Spell that exists to keep people out of this house? Of course it doesn’t have an actual inside. People aren’t supposed to see the fortress, much less what’s in it.”

They were in the fortress’ courtyard and Isse truly thought that being nearly blasted into charred pieces by lightning or frozen on the spot hadn’t been worth the sight in front of them.

The inside of the fortress was empty except for a multitude of stairways criss-crossing all over the place over their heads, some in quite the non-euclidean fashion.

“This is hurting my brain,” said Siidi as she looked down and away.

“You don’t have a brain Siidi,” retorted Isse.

“If we want to play on the technicalities then your brain is also my brain.”

“...You’re not wrong. It’s kind of mesmerizing.”

“Meh, you get used to it. Although I once stared at those stairs for so long I saw the face of the last holder of the White Book.”

The two arachne flinched at Kaminskyi’s voice as they’d forgotten about him, looking down at the little domovoi.

“What’s the White Book?”

He grimaced: “A gift from God to humanity. A book containing the powers of the angels and, some say, even some Words of Creation. Whatever it was, the last person to ever have that book used it to attempt to destroy us to the last. It happened during the Great War and caused the death of magic back on Earth.”

He sighed, a hand combing through his beard: “At least Baba Yaga stopped her, otherwise we wouldn’t be here. Although for the longest time I wondered if coming here was worth it, considering how long we spent just sleeping.”

The two arachne looked at him with frowns on their faces, Isse wondering not for the first time how many of the stories told back on Earth were true. Had there always been a world hidden behind nothing more than a veneer of incredulity?

“Anyway, stop looking up and instead look in front of you.”

They did as he said and, finally, noticed the only other thing in the fortress other than the stairs and the patrols of guards that were now ignoring them.

Statues.

At first a few, only three, and then more: a dozen, then tens of them, and finally over a hundred. Some of them looked old and worn, their features worn from time and the elements, while others looked new, freshly sculpted. Some were small, smaller than Isse’s spider half, while a few others were so big they made Isse think about the statue of liberty, yet somehow still managed to fit in the space of the fortress and not look out of place.

“What in Airm is this?” asked Isse.

Kaminskyi shrugged: “I like to call it ‘The Cemetery’. Seems fitting since most of the statues are of dead people.”

“Not even surprised,” chorused the two arachne.

They began walking towards the Cemetery in silence, the occasional passing guard bowing to the domovoi and shooting glares at the two intruders.

This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

“Why do they look so subservient towards you?” asked Siidi.

Kaminskyi smiled fondly at that: “Because that’s the way it should be. I am the spirit of the house, its domovoi. I guard it as much, if not more, than them. I keep the people inside safe and make sure the house doesn’t suffer from the passage of time or the elements. I’ve been dabbling in maintaining the Spells that protect it, but the magic of this world is very different from the one back on Earth, so I haven’t managed much on that front. Still, they recognize me as someone of importance, someone who’s helping, and someone more important than them.”

He looked up, his eyes unfocusing, and his smile became bitter: “This is what we were promised when the Traveler came to us offering to bring us somewhere safe. A new life, a new home in a place that wouldn’t forget or hate us.”

He chuckled, but there was no mirth in the sound, only bitterness: “I guess that, in the end, he didn’t lie to us. We’re back now. No thanks to him, though.”

They reached the statues then, and the devil bowed his head at them in, she realized, respect.

“They were the ones who came before, you know? The old inhabitants of the house and their closest friends and allies. I think you’ll recognize a few of these.”

Looking up at the faces of the statues, she didn’t immediately see anyone who looked familiar.

Then she looked up, towards the taller statues, and she finally saw them. Or rather, she saw her, [Lady] Serafia, together with her husband by her side, their statues on different bases but their hands still joined.

“I’ve seldom seen love greater than the one between them, you know? Last time was between the last holder of the Black Book and her beloved.”

He smiled, and this time it was real: “Those two… they are soulmates. Just like you spiderfolk always ended up as.”

Isse didn’t say anything to that: bringing back her memories of Anda came with both the benefit of being able to see her in her memories and feel joy and the feeling of her heart being stabbed by the sadness with the knowledge that she was gone.

The domovoi looked up and saw her expression: “Ah, wrong thing to say. I’m sorry for your loss.”

Isse batted her eyes in surprise for a moment, then shrugged it off and changed the subject: “You talked about a Black Book. Let me guess, it’s the opposite of the other one and was made by Satan?”

“Exactly, although maybe Satan is the wrong name for him. We called him Chernobog, others called him Lucifer. Old bastard down below was always so fucking confused by this.

“As for the Black Book, it is my firm belief that it was more powerful than its divine counterpart. For one, if you managed to unlock all of its seals, you could make any wish come true without the fear of your mind being burnt away by a Word of Creation that God decided you weren’t ready to use.”

He sat down on the snowy ground, his body turning into his dog self, tongue lolling out as he slowly panted, his eyes flickering up at the two arachne then even ‘upper’ at the statues of the people who lived in his home.

“But enough about my home. This is a Spell, not a soul, so time moves just as fast as outside. I brought you in to show you a trick, and I will do just that. But first: what were you going to do when you entered the Spell, child?”

Isse frowned: “Didn’t you say we had no time to lose? Can’t you just tell me your trick and be done with the cryptic teacher bullshit? I had enough of that with Grandmother.”

Siidi raised a hand and they high fived.

“In the time it took you to high five with your soul half and tell me off for asking that question you could’ve already answered. Now, please, tell me, or else you’ll be stuck outside, or worse, be found out. The [Lord] has sent out his [Guards] to check the perimeter.”

Isse’s heart rate picked up at that and cold sweat trickled down her spine. What would they do if they found out about her?

“Alright. I… I expected to find something akin to a Soul Heart that would allow me to manipulate the Spellwork into letting me in without triggering the [Ward] Spells.”

The dog-devil cocked his head to the side and, after a second, nodded: “A good strategy. It would’ve probably worked as well had you not killed those guards outside. As I understand it, souls and Spells are not so different, especially ones cast with the support of a Skill. They both have hearts, and they both can be changed. The only real difference is that Spells are much more focused than souls, so it’s easier to do what you desire.”

He turned back into his gnome-form, as Siidi had started to call it, and pointed at the snow.

“You have strong bases, which is admirable. From what the domovoi of the Tower Academy’s told me you’re further ahead than most [Mages] were when the doors to that place were opened.

“Now, make a statue of yourself with this snow, and be fast about it.”

Isse cocked an eyebrow but immediately began working, Siidi helping her.

“Why snow?” she asked as she allowed herself a moment to feel the cold snow with her hands. It may be winter, but there were Spells all over the city that didn’t allow for snow to fall. Well, everywhere except for [Lady] Serafia’s mansion, that was. She missed its feeling.

“This city has a few good [Enchanters] and my lady has access to the best one. Any and all alterations made here,” he motioned at the fortress around them, “can and will be noticed. But a snow statue? It will disappear in a few hours, melt away, or even just mimetize with the rest of the spellwork.

“You want to be a [Spy]? Well, remember this trick: if you ever have to alter Spells, learn to do it in such a way that you wouldn’t notice it. Understood?

“Now start over with that statue. Make it smaller. And for the love of Chernobog, make it look like an arachne, not some kind of dick with barbs.”

Blushing now Isse began working on her arachne snow-woman from scratch. A few minutes later she had a doll sized version of… herself? More or less, yes.

“Good. Now, girl, I suggest you leave this Spell and start climbing that wall. A [Guard] is approaching your location.”

He snapped his fingers, and she was out.

A moment later, Kaminskyi sighed despondently, turning back into his dog form and lying back down, looking at the shadows.

“You know, you’re a cruel man. Making her think she’s the last of her kind, making her go through all this.”

He looked down at the doll-sized snow woman and sighed: “The only reason I haven’t told her anything is that this she’s one of our last hopes to come back fully. That girl, Alice, she’s not enough. But you already knew that, am I right? Played your cards the best way possible since well before the start.”

He chuckled sadly, looking back at the shadows.

The shadows didn’t answer back. Nor did they move.

Maybe he was truly going insane, after all.

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

Climbing the wall took her only a few seconds, but still she nearly didn’t make it.

As she let herself fall to the ground on the other side, heart beating a celtic folk song, she could feel the armored footsteps of the guard on the other side of the wall passing where she’d been standing up until then.

She looked around… and realized that she’d done it! She’d overcome the first hurdle of the mission: passing through the warded wall without being killed by the Spells defending it. From there, surely, it was all going to go downhill.

Alright. Time to find the [Lady]’s office and see what we can get.

It’s a plan!

So it began.