Chapter 18 Part 1

HORRORS AND DREAMS


The horror of the thing was beyond sanity. It loomed over the entire clearing amidst the billowing smoke and flames. Then as it stepped forth, it planted its feet, testing on the solid ground. Its feet were short and stubby, and it seemed to be intent on walking on its toes, but as the smoke cleared, it became apparent that it was actually walking on cloven hooves, like that of a pig or goat. The ankles were very high and elongated making the leg appear as if it had backward knees.

The rest of the beast appeared more or less humanoid, but that its flesh was a deep brown and clothed in a woven mesh of fine golden chains. Its face was quite normal looking if not downright handsome, but the teeth were black and their shape could not be seen in the fire light. The head sported long white hair and the ears seemed to stick out from the side of its head with long fleshy lobes that drooped almost to its shoulders. Those ears were adorned with a multitude of decorations. The eyes glowed with a menacing reddish flare, and even those gathered around who had called the thing forth stepped back away from the fire as it emerged.

The old woman who had cast the summoning soon regained her composure, and stood straight and proud as she led Thomas, who was obviously having second thoughts in spite of whatever drug he had been given earlier, before her master.

“Great one,” she called forth drawing the creature’s attention. “We welcome our benefactors to this world and offer our finest as host to your soul.” She pushed Thomas forward, and the boy stumbled drunkenly. Then she whispered something in his ear, and Thomas sank to his knees before the devil.

“This is the best that you have?” the monster demanded in disgust. “Surely one of those with the tender flesh would have been more welcome to my attentions?”

“They have not yet reached the proper age, O most generous one.” The woman answered with a shaking voice. “The pact of our blood demands that the girls must be of the age of sixteen seasons before they can be delivered up to thy brethren.”

“Then this one will suffice,” the devil decided. “I prefer the tender flesh, but the pleasures of the men are not undesirable. And I shall partake of the soft flesh through this vessel regardless of the age. That does not violate the pact.”

“No, great one,” the woman answered. “But if you consume the virginity of all the girls, then there will be none available for thy brethren when they come of age.”

“Phagh! Virginity is not necessary. It is just a luxury. Let my brethren suffer disappointment as I have.”

“As you wish, great one.” The woman stepped away from Thomas. “In the name of the master we both serve, we give you this gift. His family will be rewarded for his sacrifice.”

“Indeed they shall,” the devil answered. “The realm of the Nine Hells has a King, and in his hands is the Ebony Staff, that most dreaded of magics. By his hand will this world be the Tenth Hell of Men and your people will be its highest held citizenry. You shall have dominion over all others, under me and my brethren and our master. Then shall those who have given up these gifts shall be rewarded.”

The devil stood as tall as Rathe and its gold chain clothing glittered in the fire light as it gloated. “Though it is not soft flesh, it is still a handsome gift, and in the name of my master, I accept this gift.”

The devil stomped around Thomas until it was behind him. The boy was terrified beyond reason, but the drug had bereft him of all will, and the old witch’s potion and spells had him trapped.

The look on Thomas’ face burned itself in Dylan’s mind. To the end of his days, he would never forget that look. For in the dim firelight, Thomas alone was looking away from the scene and it seemed as if he was looking straight at Dylan and Cindy. His eyes pleaded for help. His face twisted in terror and agony as the devil’s form melted and began to flow into his own body. The eyes passed visibly from fear to surprise, to terror and finally to insanity and hatred.

Dylan had watched the whole affair in stunned disbelief. He could feel Cindy trembling next to him. At any other time, her closeness would have been a welcome distraction, but the scene that was unfolding before them was absolutely riveting and Dylan did not think he could have moved if he had wanted to. Even though he was hidden, he was terrified, and his breathing was ragged from the tremble in his throat.

As the devil’s form vanished into Thomas, the boy’s features jerked and his chest convulsed violently. The arms thrashed as the boy’s ravaged soul fought for its very existence, trying vainly to avoid being consumed by the monstrosity that was feeding on its very substance. In a final dying gasp, Thomas lost the battle for his mind, body and soul with a life-shattering wail that pierced throughout the very rocks.

Cindy, who had been trembling and had retched at the site, could take no more and screamed at the terrible sight. She rocked back on her knees and hid her eyes, trying to keep from going mad herself.

The action was not missed, however. The witch caught the motion out of the corner of her eye. “Outsiders!” She shrieked. “Infidels, defiling our sacred rites. Seize them!”

In spite of the paralyzing fear, Dylan knew that the time had come to leave, post haste. He jumped up and grabbed Cindy’s hand, dragging her behind him as he ran blindly into the brush.

“Don’t let them escape,” the witch cried angrily.

Dylan ran. Cindy, once away from the view of the fire and the possessed boy, regained her senses enough to run on her own as well. In fact, he was hard put to keep up with the girl.

Such had been their confusion and terror, that they somehow missed the trail that led back to the village, and it dawned on Dylan that they had been running a long time before it even occurred to him to consider where they were going.

They ran until they came to a thicket that they could not get through. Without thinking they both turned to the side and started running again. Low hanging branches scratched at them and thistles and thorns tore at their clothes.

Then suddenly a large figure loomed ahead in the darkness. “There over here!” the figure shouted in the dark.

Dylan and Cindy wheeled and reversed direction as one. They had no idea which way they were running and were operating on instinct alone when they crashed madly through a thicket and drew up short.

The witch and two burly men, each as large as Coran, confronted them. The witch wasted no time and pointed at the two of them. She muttered a couple of phrases and Dylan saw the spark of fire in her hand only and instant before he felt the impact of the spell.

But something strange happened. He felt the spell hit him, but it did not seem to do anything to him. In fact if nothing else, he seemed to snap back to his senses completely. He saw even by the dim moonlight that the witch was surprised. She cursed and drew a wickedly curved knife. Then she motioned for her goons to attack.

Dylan really did not have a weapon, and all his hand found as he reached into his shoulder bag was his spell book and the scroll tube. With the large men bearing down on him, Dylan grew desperate and quickly cast his sleeping spell. Immediately, both of the men fell to the ground, but the witch remained standing.

“Magi,” she spat. “I’ll eat your liver for my breakfast,” she charged as she brandished her knife.

Dylan had not time to think or plan. He had used his only spell that could have stopped her, and it had only angered her. He grabbed the wooden scroll tube in his bag and pulled it out. It was a poor substitute for a shield, but if he could hit the witch over the head with it hard enough, he might be able to stun her long enough for Cindy and himself to escape.

The witch charged, and Dylan swung the tube poorly attempting to swat her wrist and knock the knife loose. Unexpectedly, the cap came off the tube, and the blazing brilliant light from within took the witch full in the face.

The witch had been hunting them in the faint moonlight, and her sight had adjusted to the darkness. When the light stabbed at her eyes, the old woman was immediately blinded. She missed her attack badly, and staggered around, unable to see anything at all.

The flash of the light surprised Dylan, but he was not blinded. He immediately understood what had happened and by the light of the tube, he saw an animal trail off to one side. He stopped only long enough to recover the cap for the tube and then he grabbed a still panicked Cindy and guided her away as fast as he could.

Dylan really had no idea where they were or where they were going. The only thing that he did know was that he needed to put distance between them and their hunters.
As they hurried through the dark, Dylan tightened his grip on the scroll tube, but he did not put the thing away. He knew that the same trick would work on anyone else that they came across in the dark, and at the moment it was his only means of defense since he had already used up his sleeping spell.

After about an hour, Dylan and Cindy stopped. Their feet hurt, their arms were scratched up and their lungs ached from the hard breathing. They paused quietly for a few moments to catch their breath. Then as the night grew quieter, they listened for signs of pursuit. They were relieved when all they could detect was the chirping of crickets and an occasional owl’s call.

Fatigue began to set in as they stood there, and Cindy sank to the ground to sit, curled up in a ball. Dylan too felt tired and sat next to her, putting a comforting hand around her shoulders.

The girl began weeping and Dylan choked back his own feelings as well. The night was still hot and sticky, yet both of the young apprentices felt as though they were deeply chilled. They trembled and clutched each other close for warmth and companionship.