Slices of Midnight Chapter 5
In Auntie Muriel’s wagon, Marissa is offered a choice: a spellbook from a forgotten sorceress… or a bottomless bag brimming with arcane reagents, bubbling brews—and one extraordinary spider.
"Besides the haunting you discovered in Waurista’s Woods, how many others have you witnessed since last we spoke?"
Muriel ran an ivory-handled brush through my curls as she spoke.
We sat at a small table in the back of her grand covered wagon.
"Did the divining orb help you in your research?"
"I discovered four others, Auntie. The research was difficult, just as you said it would be—but I dare say I couldn’t have done it without the orb."
Muriel offered me another treat—a honey-sweet confection she’d picked up somewhere in lands far east of Indamar.
"Do you enjoy such research, despite the difficulty?"
"I do," I answered, though with some difficulty—my mouth was full of candy.
"I’d say I enjoy the research as much as the actual discovery, if not more. Call me crazy, but I could stare at star charts and soil samples all day."
Muriel laughed, placing a loving hand on my cheek before letting out a wistful sigh.
"Child, you remind me of someone I once knew in so many ways."
"Oh, really?"
"Indeed."
She sniffed and swallowed hard. For a moment, I thought she might break into tears.
"But let’s not talk about that now."
With a dismissive wave, she brushed the sentiment aside.
"Let’s talk about your trek into Waurista’s Woods. It must have taken great courage to venture into such a foreboding forest."
I nibbled at a second sugary treat.
"I guess," I said, though not with much conviction.
I had never seen Muriel become emotional before, and somehow, it changed the mood of our reunion—made it somber, even sad, though I couldn’t say why.
I chewed in the odd silence that settled between us, eventually swallowing the bite of candy.
Muriel’s sudden loss of cheer left me uneasy, but it did allow my mind to drift back to Waurista’s Woods.
And with that, I realized—I had an important question to ask.
"Ombra'lay zak'tachinay. Do you know what that phrase means, Auntie?"
My question elicited a snide cackle—but not from Aunt Muriel.
As was sometimes the case, she had brought company to Dowling.
This time, it was Morgan—a fellow itinerant I had never found nearly as pleasant or sociable as Muriel.
That cynical little laugh was the first sound Morgan had made since we entered the wagon.
Rather than chatting, she had been lounging in the far back corner, absorbed in a dust-covered tome with a plain black cover.
"Those are ancient words—a phrase of fate and destiny," Muriel said after shooting Morgan a disapproving look.
"It loses its potency if evoked too often, so take care. Use it sparingly."
Her gaze settled on me, unreadable.
"You’ll know when the time is right."
I consumed the rest of my candies with far more conviviality.
As I ate, I soaked up as much knowledge as I could about the world beyond my humble village.
Muriel and Morgan had spent some time in Arinar before boarding a ferry to the Isle.
More troubling, the High Council had launched a new campaign to stamp out a fresh wave of witchery—one Muriel likened to a prairie wildfire sweeping across the plains.
"Alright, it’s time for a decision," Muriel said as I finished my last piece of candy.
At once, my soul soared.
A decision always meant a present—and any gift from Muriel was destined to become one of my most prized possessions.
Muriel turned to her traveling companion and extended a hand.
"Morgan, would you be so kind?"
She gestured toward the black-covered book.
Morgan hesitated for a moment before shutting the dust-covered tome and handing it over.
Her gaze was unreadable—part annoyance, part amusement, as if she were silently mocking me for whatever would come next.
My heart began to thump inside my chest.
"First, we have this black tome. Once upon a time, it belonged to a most dreadful sorceress—a woman who roamed this rocky island long before Waurista the Great, if you can imagine."
Muriel opened the thick book to a random page near its middle.
Across the parchment sprawled a collection of colorful runes and glyphs—red and gold, blue and bronze.
The symbols were magical, and so was the way they beckoned to me.
Somehow, though I had never seen such writing before, the arrangement of the characters made perfect sense.
The sorcery within them stirred my blood, like a hound catching the scent of a hare.
"I see the tome interests you."
Muriel placed the book on the table, letting me study it further.
"It’s a treasure, to be sure."
Then, she turned and lifted a drab brown leather bag from a peg on the wagon’s inner wall.
"However," she mused, "do you suppose the book will surpass the wonders contained within this bag?"
At Muriel’s words, I pried my attention from the ancient spellbook and watched as she unfastened the bag’s clasp and pulled it open.
Inside was a dazzling array of arcane implements—vial after vial of potions and reagents, shimmering in every hue of the rainbow.
Many of the liquids bubbled with an alluring effervescence, releasing the occasional fizz, pop, or gurgle.
"So, what do you think?" Muriel asked, giving me a few moments to admire the alchemical treasures.
"As always, the decision is yours and yours alone."
I opened my mouth to speak but found no words.
Where had these women come across such profound items?
And why were they willing to give them to a scruffy young woman from the backwoods of Indamar?
Muriel had gifted me valuable things before, but even her divining sphere seemed downright paltry in light of these choices.
I glanced at Morgan, hoping to glean some answers—
But found nothing.
"Well?" Muriel pressed. "My offer is good for only so long."
I took a deep breath, my mind scrambling to decide which of these two potential gifts would suit me best.
The black tome was likely chock full of spells that could see me burned at a witch’s stake if I ever learned to cast them.
Still, the runes beckoned.
Part of me felt that even if such an unfortunate death were to befall me, my life—however inconsequential—would still be well-lived because of the things I might learn.
Before selecting the tome, I decided it would be wise to rummage through the brown bag—just to see what I would be giving up.
I reached inside and pulled out a pair of fluid-filled vials, placing them carefully on the table in front of me.
Then another.
And another.
A couple more.
And then a couple more.
By the time I had removed no fewer than a score of containers, it dawned on me—
The bag wasn’t getting any emptier.
The vials, flasks, and beakers—once simple in design—grew more elaborate.
Soon, ornate glassware shaped like dragons and other mythical beasts surrounded me, each filled with bubbling potions and reagents of unknown purpose.
There was no doubt now—
The frumpy brown bag was magical.
I was just about to ask Muriel about the uses of these fascinating liquids when my attention snagged on something deeper inside.
A sizable jar.
Full of expectation, I removed it with great care.
Unlike the others, it held neither liquid nor powder.
Instead, to my delight, it was home to a living creature—
An enormous tarantula-like beast with eight hairy legs and a pair of formidable fangs.
"This," I murmured, staring into the spider’s glossy black eyes.
Since I could crawl, I had been fascinated by spiders.
But there was something different about this one—
Something mesmerizing.
"I want the spider, the bag, and everything in it."
Muriel shared a slight nod of admiration with Morgan before shutting the dusty black tome.
From that moment forward, I never gave the book of spells another thought.
