Heather tapped at the page of the necromancer's book, pondering how to manage the spell. She spent most of the day pouring over the familiar spell and making a list of where she would get the ingredients. The magic circle had to be drawn with special dust made with ground bones and powdered silver. By fortunate luck, the wizard who died in her tower had both in a curious pouch. It was full of little pockets that held an assortment of things. It rested beside the book now, where she could search it for anything else that might be needed.

She made a trip into the graveyard and forest to gather some of the other things. The spell called for spiderwebs, animal fur, a crawling insect, etc. Frank stopped her as she poked around his tombstones, looking for an insect. She explained what she was doing, but all he did was scratch his head and ask her if she was sure.

Of course, she was sure. A cat would be perfect for the tower, and besides, she wanted a pet that didn't smell of mold. Frank commented that he wasn't sure it would work that way, but what did he know? He never played a class that could summon a pet. She had the book and its detailed instructions; what could possibly go wrong?

The spell didn't require much in the way of words or actions on her part. It was mostly done in the preparation and making of the summoning circle. Once that was done, it was a simple matter of combining the ingredients and burning them. Then you called to the smoke to bring forth your pet and poof it would happen.

“I should summon two of them, so she has somebody to play with,” Heather mused.

A few quick notes, and she was satisfied that all was ready. It took her an hour to draw a proper circle on the floor of an empty room. It was surprising how difficult it was to pour a consistent line that had no breaks. The symbols were harder and required some careful use of a rolled paper to make a funnel. When it was all done, she sat back and smiled at her handiwork.

She didn't have a brass bowl to burn the ingredients in, but she assumed a pot from the kitchen would do. She took some of the kindling and lit a stick from the oven using it to kindle a small fire in the pot. Then she ran up the stairs with smoke billowing in her face as hands started to get hot.

“Ow, ow, ow, ow!” she cried as she set the hot metal pot in the center of the circle. With a wild shake of her hands, she stepped back to the basket that held her ingredients. The spell said to let the wood burn down to coals and then sprinkled the ingredients over them to produce a cloud of smoke. She would have to wait for the flames to die down, and then the process could begin.

“I should have done this on the roof,” she complained as the smell of smoke filled the room. The narrow window on the wall did little to ventilate, and she wondered how long before she passed out. Carefully she leaned over the circle to look into the pot to see most of the wood had become red coals.

“It's time!” she said excitedly and ran to her basket. The ingredients were wrapped in a ball of paper, a clever addition of her own. She took it up and happily plunked it into the pot. With a smile, she moved to the triangle on one side of the circle. The cat would be bound to whoever stood inside it and would forever be her pet.

She jumped in excitement as the smoke suddenly billowed out, forming a thick pillar of gray.

“It's working!” she said happily and then got control of herself and folded her arms. “I call you from beyond, come, and serve your master.”

A ball of smoke belched from the pot and rose upward to crash on the ceiling. She looked on excitedly, hoping to see something. A moment later and a slender black leg stepped out of the haze. A second later, a matching leg reached out, and Heather couldn't stand it anymore. She rushed in and reached into the smoke pulling the creature up to her chest and crushing it tightly.

“I knew it would work!” she cried as she spun with her cat in her arms. “I am going to name you smoke because you came out of the smoke.” She was delighted that it was so easy but noticed something strange when the cat's fur felt more like bristles. She blinked the smoke out of her eyes and looked down at the creature cradled to her chest. It looked back at her with two big faceted eyes and six little ones right before making a loud scree noise as it lifted its fangs.

The warding ravens took the air crying out in alarm as a scream pierced the night sky. It echoed across the graveyard turning undead heads to the dark tower. It was followed by a series of wails, cries, and slamming of doors before Heather burst from the front door in a wild panic.

She ran into the nearest mausoleum and nearly plowed into Frank coming up the stairs.

“Heather?” he asked as she darted behind him as if to hide.

“It’s in the tower!” Heather gasped.

“The shadow thing is back?”

“No, the other thing!” she shouted.

“What other thing?” he asked, turning to face her as she hid.

“It came out of the smoke instead of my cat,” she stammered.

“You summoned a familiar?”

“No, I got something else! I must have done it wrong.”

Frank shrugged and walked up the stairs heading for the outside.

“Where are you going?” she asked.

“To see what you summoned,” he replied and vanished over the top of the stairs.

She crept up after him and poked her head out of the mausoleum to see Quinny and Breanne had joined him outside her tower.

“Heather!” Quinny yelled with a wave of her arm. “What did you summon?”

Heather felt foolish and stood up with a sigh. She walked across the yard to join them a the tower as Frank opened the door.

“Where is it?” he asked.

“Upstairs in the room across from the balcony,” Heather said.

“What is it?” Quinny asked again.

“Just go see for yourself,” Heather groaned.

Frank took the lead and went to the room Heather indicated, pausing outside the shut door.

“Why does it smell like you were burning hair?” Quinny said as she waved a hand before her face.

“I thought you didn't need to breathe,” Heather growled.

“I don’t need to, but I still smell things,” Quinny replied as Frank pulled the door open.

Smoke wafted out into the hall, and he peered inside the room carefully.

“I don’t see anything,” he replied as he leaned into the room. Quinny poked her head in and looked around as Breanne came through the wall.

“There is nothing here,” Breanne said.

“What?” Heather stammered. “I shut the door while it was still in here.”

“Maybe it got out the window,” Quinny said.

“It’s too big to use the window,” Heather snapped.

“What was it?” Frank asked as she inspected the pot on the floor.

“It was a...” Heather began but froze as a soft leg tapped her shoulder, and a dark object descended from the ceiling.

The others turned around to look as Heather began to sputter.

“Sp...sp...spider!” she screamed and danced into the room flailing. The creature swung in the air, suspended by a strand of silk as she ran to hide behind Frank again.

“Aww,” Quinny said. “It's a woolly jumping spider.”

“It's terrible,” Breanne said, taking a step back.

“That’s what you summoned?” Frank asked as he gestured to the creature that slowly drifted to the floor.

“Yes! It was supposed to be a cat, but I got that instead!”

“I’m not sure it works that way,” he said.

“You said that before!” she hissed. “What does that even mean?”

“It means I don't think you can pick what you get. I think it's random.”

“Random?” Heather sputtered. “You mean I didn’t get it wrong?”

Frank looked back at the creature that settled on the floor and bounced on its legs. Its body was the size of a cat, but it had eight short fury legs and a funny blue dot on its backside.

“I think you did it right; that's your familiar.”

“Well, send it back!” Heather barked. “I wanted a cat.”

“I agree,” Breanne said. “It’s hideous.”

“It’s not hideous,” Quinny said. “Look at how cute his big bright eyes are.”

Heather and Breanne exchanged glances, and Quinny shook her head.

“You both live in a graveyard full of rotting corpses that walk around all day. Are you really going to say a cute little jumping spider is too horrible to look at?”

“But I wanted a cat,” Heather insisted.

“Well, you got a spider,” Frank said. “And it is your familiar, so you had better get used to it.”

“What do you mean?”

He knelt lower to look at the creature that skittered to the side away from him.

“I mean, it's bonded to you, and it will want to be where you are. You get special perks from having a familiar, you know.”

“Quinny can have it,” Heather said.

“Ha. I would love a spider roaming the burial mounds, but I don’t think it would go with me.”

“It won’t,” Frank said. “Heather summoned it, so it’s bonded to her. If she abandons it, then it will keep trying to get back to her.”

“So, I can't get rid of it?” Heather asked as she looked down at the creature that was slowly scooting around the room toward her.

It stopped to look at her with those eyes and lifted it’s front legs as if waiving them at her.

“Go away, you horrible thing!” Heather barked. The spider's legs dropped, and it drew them in before turning its back on her. Slowly it shuffled to the wall and pulled into a tight ball facing away from her.

“Awww, you hurt its feelings!” Quinny sighed.

“It’s a spider,” Heather balked. “And it’s big enough to murder me in my sleep.”

“A familiar would never hurt you,” Frank said. “It would die to protect you.”

Heather looked at the little ball of legs and saw it shake as it let out a little cry.

“You made it cry!” Quinny said and swatted Heather’s arm. “Go tell him your sorry!”

“It’s a spider!” Heather repeated. “I am terrified of spiders!”

“So am I,” Breanne said. “Lots of people are.”

Another sad sound came from the furry ball, and Quinny went to swat Heather again, but she stepped out of range.

“It’s just sleeping or something,” Heather said.

“It’s crying,” Quinny argued. “It’s upset about what you said.”

“It's a spider. It has no idea what I said.”

“Actually, I think it does,” Breanne interjected. “I knew lots of people who had familiars. They understood whatever their masters said. They share some kind of telepathic bond with the person who summoned them.”

“And you hurt its feelings,” Quinny argued.

Heather looked at Frank for guidance, but he could only shrug. She looked back to the little form against the wall and let out a sigh.

“So, that's my familiar?”

“It would appear so,” Breanne said.

She looked to Quinny, unsure of herself.

“What should I do?”

“Go pet it or something,” she said. “Let it know you don’t hate it.”

Heather twitched at the thought of touching the thing but took a step forward.

“Hey, umm, little guy. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings, I was just expecting something else, and you startled me.” The spider didn't react to her words other than to let out another hissing cry.

“look, I'm sorry I hurt your feelings, it's just I am afraid of spiders.”

“Don’t tell him that!” Quinny said as the creature let out a sorrowful moan.

“Oh!” Heather groaned as she became more aggravated. This was supposed to be a victory, a black cat to lay in her lap while she read the book or sat on the railing while she sunned. Instead, she had a furry monstrosity that had more eyes than she had. She stood straight and took a step closer, watching it intently as she neared.

“Listen. I reacted badly. I am sorry I said those things. I thought I had made a mistake and summoned a wild spider that was going to eat me. If you are my familiar, then I want us to be friends.”

Slowly the form turned on furry legs, and Heather struggled not to recoil as that fanged face looked up at her.

“There, will you forgive me?” Heather asked.

It waived a single leg in the air, and Heather let out a sigh. Somehow she was going to have to accept that she had a spider instead of a cat. With that thought bouncing in her head, she moved on to the next logical step.

“I suppose you need a name, don't you?”

It waived again, and Heather paced to think. “Smoke isn't a good name for a spider,” she said as the rubbed at her chin.

“Why would you call it smoke?” Frank asked.

Heather turned and looked to the others. “When I thought it was going to be a cat, I was going to name it smoke because of the smoke from the spell. But a spider needs a better name, something more appropriate.”

“Call him spidey,” Quinny suggested.

“I am not calling him that,” Heather grumbled.

“How about Fangor flybain?”

Heather glared at Quinny and shook her head.

“Honestly, where do you come up with these?”

Quinny tossed her head and shrugged. “I played a lot of RPGs.”

Heather looked back to the creature that was still hiding by the wall. She swallowed her fear and knelt to tap at the floor before her.

“Come here,” she said softly.

Slowly it crept forward until it was right before her.

“Let's make some rules so I can adjust to having you around,” she said. “No jumping or dropping on me or doing anything that might startle me.”

The little creature's body bobbed, and she took that as an agreement and an idea. “How would you like the name bob?”

The spider shook its whole body side to side.

“I think that’s a no,” Quinny said.

“I know what it means,” Heather griped and went back to the spider. “How about Steve?”

Again the little furry body twisted in a no.

“I wish you could just tell me what your name was,” Heather sighed and suddenly felt a presence in her mind. She stood upright with a blank look on her face and turned to the others.

“What’s wrong?” Breanne asked.

“I can hear him in my head,” Heather said in a shocked voice.

“I told you familiars could speak telepathically,” Breanne reminded.

Heather nodded, and her expression changed to one of confusion as she turned back around.

“You have got to be kidding?” Heather asked. “You want to be called Webster?”

The creature bobbed up and down at the use of the name. Heather put a hand to her face as Quinny laughed and agreed it was the perfect name.

“I have a pet spider named Webster,” Heather sighed. “Why am I no longer surprised when these things happen?”

“You’re getting used to being here,” Frank said. “I told you it was cool.”

Heather peaked through her fingers at him with a rolling eye and dropped her hand.

“Well, what else can go wrong?”

The tower shook with a loud bang, and dust fell from the walls. A voice called from outside, demanding the necromancer come out.

“You really shouldn’t ask that question anymore,” Quinny said.

“I am putting a moat of acid around my tower as soon as I have the points!” Heather growled and stormed out of the room.

The tower shook twice more before she threw open the door and stood in her pink dress before the three women in her yard.

“Who are you?” one of the women asked.

“I'm Heather, the flower singer,” she stated firmly.

The three women all wore the robes of wizardry classes. One was tall in elegant white; another wore deep blues and blacks. The speaking woman wore tans and reds with a hood. All three looked to one another, confused.

“Where is the necromancer?” one of them asked.

Heather sighed and fell into her act, using the moment to sow more confusion.

“This again?” she groaned. “People think I am a necromancer because my friend plays a ghoul, and I put my tower next to his graveyard.”

The women looked back to the graveyard and muttered between themselves as Frank arrived at the door behind her. When they looked back and saw him, one of them yelled at the other.

“I told you this was just a rumor!” the red woman said.

“I heard it from several people,” the blue one responded.

“It took us a week to get out here for nothing!”

“But the skeletons?” the blue woman pressed.

“My tower has skeletons,” the woman in white interjected. “She must have picked the gothic style.”

“I did,” Heather said. “It fits the theme of the graveyard.”

“See,” the red-robed woman added.

Heather looked up to see the vines on her tower above smoldering where they had been burned. She sang a quick song to cause new growth to overtake the bare spots and bloom into flowers.

“She is a flower singer,” the white-robed woman said as her shoulders sank. “All that walking for nothing.”

“Even if it was a rumor, it was worth investigating?” the blue woman offered in defense.

“I could be eating in my garden right now,” the red woman stressed.

“Thankfully, it won't take us but a moment to get back,” the white robbed woman said as she raised her staff. She muttered a couple of word sand circle of light appeared in the yard. Heather stood transfixed as the light stretched to form a sort of swirling mirror that was slightly taller then she was. One by one, the women walked up to the mirror and stepped through it like it was a door.

“What is that?” Heather asked in amazement.

“A portal,” Breanne said.

Heather nodded and hurried down the steps to stare into the portal. Beyond, she saw cobbled streets and tall buildings of wood and stone. There were shops and horses, and people of all kinds.

“It’s one of the cities,” Quinny said.

“But which one?” Breanne questioned.

“How long will this portal stay here?” Heather asked.

“If they don’t intentionally try to dismiss it, about an hour,” Breanne said.

“I could visit the city?” Heather asked excitedly. She turned around when nobody responded. “What?”

“That’s a big risk,” Frank said. “What if it closes behind you?”

“We don’t even know what city it is,” Quinny said. “It could be one that’s months away.”

“They said it took a week to get here,” Breanne said. “They probably used magic to travel faster, so my guess is its Stonemantle or Iversguard.”

“It doesn't matter,” Frank said. “We can't go with her, and if it closes, she will be alone and trapped.”

“We could go with,” Quinny said. “We still have some disguise potion.”

“That’s right!” Heather snapped. “You have plenty for an hour.”

Frank looked unmoved by the suggestion and stepped closer to the portal.

“If this thing closes before we get back, we're going to need a lot more potion than just an hour.”

“Then lets only go for half an hour,” Heather said. “Just enough time for me to buy a few things, and then we come right back.”

He didn't appear moved by her logic, so she went for emotional pressure.

“Please!” she begged. “I really need some shoes!”

“If we're going to go, we need to do it now. The longer we wait, the more likely we are to get stuck,” Breanne said.

“Please?” Heather squeaked.

He looked at her and let out a growling sigh. “Let’s get the potions and meet back here.”

Heather smiled at her success and ran to the tower to get some money. Soon she would have some proper boots and maybe a few odds and ends. As she ran up the floors to her room, she was surprised to find her spider skittering behind her.

“Are you following me?” she asked as she paused at the door to her room. The little creature bobbed its whole body in a yes.

“We're going to a city to do some shopping, I need you to stay here,” she said.

The spider lowered its head and let out a little hissing sigh, turning its back on her again.

“Will you stop doing that,” Heather scolded. “I would stay and let you follow me around, but I have to go to a city. I can't bring a spider with, if people saw you they might be scared.”

Another sad sigh issued out as the creature resumed its huddled ball.

Heather started tapping a foot in frustration at the unhappy familiar. The portal was waiting and time was an issue, she didn’t have any to waste trying to cheer up a spider.

“Fine, you can come with, but you have to hide in a backpack.”

The ball bounced on its legs and turned around to skitter after her. She left the door open and went into the room to get some bags of coins and a backpack. She shuddered to put the pack on the floor and hold the flap open so Webster could crawl inside.

“Ready?” she asked as the spider shuffled around inside. It made a little squeal, and she took that as a yes and headed out.

They gathered at the portal, and Heather shouldered the pack, feeling the weight of the spider inside. She quickly forgot all about him when she looked to the portal and the city beyond.

“Let’s get this over with,” Frank said and held a potion out in his hand.

Heather nodded and looked to the portal as her stomach twisted in excitement. What wonders were to be found in a proper city?