The Spider Brothers
PenPatronus
Chapter Three
Blood View
The witch's three sons manhandled Peter Two through a dirty kitchen in dim light, and then out onto the restaurant floor. All the booths, tables, and chairs sat off to the sides. Old newspapers covered the front windows, but Peter Two saw a little bit of streetlight sneaking through. Cream-colored candles perched on countertops and stools – the brightest lights in the room. The floor was hardwood worn from years of customers tapping their toes and waiters and waitresses hustling between tables. A silver bowl sat in the center of the floor. Blood filled it, and Peter Two felt briefly nauseated when he realized it was probably Three's blood.
The woman in sapphire robes – who he assumed was the witch – picked up the silver bowl and emptied the blood into a large glass vial. When the bowl was empty, she motioned for her sons to bring Peter Two to her side. The three sons moved him forward, and kept all their hands on him to hold him upright and still – as if Peter could put up any sort of fight with the magic cuff around his wrist. Before Peter could protest, she took a jagged silver knife out of her robes and sliced his inner forearm. "Maybe I just didn't take enough blood from the other one," she said quietly, as if only to herself. "More blood. Yes, that's it. I just need more blood for the spell to work."
Peter watched his blood run down his arm and hand and into the silver bowl. "Who are you looking for?" he asked, speaking as quietly as she had. "Who do you want to find in another universe?"
The sapphire witch put the knife against Peter's throat. "I don't remember giving you permission to speak," she spat at him. "Hush."
"Maybe you could describe them, show me a picture…" Peter shrugged. "Maybe I've seen them around. You never know! Small world!" He cocked his head and looked up at the teal-colored ceiling. "Small world… Big universes…"
The witch dug the knife in a few millimeters, and warm blood ran down Peter Two's throat. He ignored it. "Maybe we can help you," he whispered. "Let us try."
To Peter's surprise, tears appeared in the sapphire witch's blue eyes. "Strange," she whispered. "You remind me of him. Something about your voice. And cheekbones."
Two felt hot and dizzy. He took a wild shot. "Your husband."
The witch didn't correct him. She looked down at the bowl. It was almost half full. "Patch him up," she ordered her sons. "And sit him down."
The sons put Peter Two in a chair, but two had to stand on either side of him to keep him from falling out of it. The third bandaged up his arm, but sloppily. Two wondered why the cut didn't hurt. The witch put the silver bowl of blood in the center of the room, then stood opposite of Two. When she raised her hands up, the candleflames crouched down, dimming the light. Peter watched, fascinated, as she spoke words he couldn't begin to comprehend. And where was that wind coming from?
"Mom, look!" one of the sons suddenly shouted over the blustery breeze. All five pairs of eyes in the room looked down at the silver bowl. Peter Two didn't quite trust his eyes – it looked like the blood was swirling and bubbling. A few seconds later the storm calmed, the blood went flat and mirror-smooth. Images appeared. A city, people walking on a sidewalk, a diner on a street corner – Peter recognized that street! Bleecker! Was it real? Was he really seeing New York City… In his universe?
With a cry of glee, the woman fell to her knees and put her hand into the blood. She must've expected to reach right into the other universe, because she cried out in pain when her hand hit the bottom of the bowl. She withdrew her blood-soaked limb and glared down at the swirling images. "Three pints gets me nothing…" she said just loud enough for the rest of the room to hear. "Five pints lets me see into the universe which means…" The witch leapt to her feet and the knife returned to Peter Two's throat. "A life will gain me access!"
She drew the knife up and aimed for Peter's heart. Peter ordered himself to say something profound as his last words, but there was nothing there. He was too dizzy, incoherent, dazed. He was about to die, and he couldn't even shoot a web.
The witch froze. She shook her head slowly. "Those cheekbones…" The blade lowered and disappeared back into her robes first. She looked up at her sons. "We'll kill the other one first. The tall one with the hair. Bring him to me."
Suddenly, Peter Two did find words to say. "No, wait…" he said around a mouth that felt both full of cotton and on fire. "Wait, no, no that's my brother, not him!" Peter squirmed. "Kill me, not him – NOT HIM!" The sons stepped away, his world teetered, and Peter Two tumbled out of the seat and onto the hardwood floor. He lay there, useless. Powerless. "KILL ME!"
In the meat locker, Peters One and Three sat against opposite walls, talking.
"So, in this universe you have wizards, witches, aliens, gods, cyborgs, monsters—"
"Sentient trees."
"Sentient… trees?"
"Oh, and androids. Androids, too."
"Androids." Peter Three shook his head. "Dude, this place is wild!"
"Yeah, it kinda is." Peter One shrugged. "But you get used to it, you know? There's school and coffee and aliens. That's normal life."
"School, coffee, and aliens," Three repeated. "W-owwww… I don't suppose the tree will rescue us?"
"No, he's in another galaxy. But Dr. Strange will. I'm sure of it."
Three gave one a not-so-sure-about-that look. "Didn't the witch kick his ass?"
"Yeah, sure, a little – but now he knows what he's dealing with, right?" Peter One made a pair of fists and shook them. "I know he can find us. Yesterday he said something about sensing that lizard guy's presence. If he can sense him, he can probably sense you and Peter. He'll find us."
Peter Three smiled at Peter One. "Your optimism is…"
"Naïve?"
"No! No—it's admirable, Peter. I love that about you," Three said. "I used to have that amount of optimism but…" He sighed and ran a hand through his unruly brown hair. "Maybe I'll get it back. Peter Two seems pretty optimistic. And it sounds like he's been through a lot."
"You both have."
"All three of us have." The pair sat in silence for a minute. "I hope I grow up to be like him," said Peter Three.
"Yeah, me too," One agreed. "He's just… What is it? Like, I can't quite put my finger on it, but I know I want to be whatever it is that he is!"
Peter Three nodded. "Yeah! Like, he's composed, you know? He's got that wisdom vibe, too. Smart, of course. And I feel like I'd follow him into battle but also share a beer afterwards."
Peter One thought for a minute. "I want to be like you, too," he said.
Peter Three blushed. "Come on, man, you don't have to say that."
Peter One frowned. "I'm not just saying it – I mean it. You have such fierce love! You love with everything you've got, don't you? And you're smart, and you're funny, and you're wicked with those webs, man. God, I wish we had time to, I don't know, train with each other! I have so much to learn from you! I'm just saying… I'm proud to have you as a brother."
Peter Three opened his mouth to reply, but the meat locker door swung open at just that moment…
To Be Continued