“I just can’t do it.” he whispered to himself. “I don’t think I can go on. Not anymore.” Kerian stared around as if in slow motion, trying to spot Octavian through the storm with eyes that were so caked in sand that pulling them apart required a herculean effort. He tried to cry out with a throat that betrayed the urgency of the situation and refused to issue anything but a muted croak. Kerian groaned inwardly, despair crashing over him in an invisible crushing wave, before he pitched forwards onto his face and was finally still.
* * * * * *
“We must have taken a wrong turn.” Miguel commented, scratching his head as he tried to interpret the warped deck plan displayed across the wall before him and decode what all the faded colours upon it might signify. He wiped his hand across the sign, hoping that by cleaning the map he would somehow translate its secrets, only to leave smudged fingerprints. “Now what floor was the cafeteria on again?”
Cornelius licked his lips nervously and moved to the side, his interest suddenly peaked by the scent of a trail of blooms, sprouting several feet away from a creeper that had tumbled down an open stairwell and through a broken skylight. Horatio had also suspiciously moved far enough away that Miguel could not touch him and was examining a statuette of a semi-naked man, holding aloft a trident, with particular fascination. Miguel knew that secretly the two giant lizards were laughing at him and this infuriated the buccaneer even further.
He squinted at the sign, hoping for a revelation, looking at the oval set to the side of the deck plan that the buccaneer was sure should have the deck number printed upon it but the disc was coloured too and Miguel could never see colours well if they were laid one upon the other like this. It was as if some colours were simply invisible to him. There had to be a clue here somewhere, it had to be easier than this! If they were here at the Porpoise Reception, then the cafeteria should be to the left.
His gaze traced along the length of the curved reception desk and the grand sweep of the crafted surface, noting the access point where reception staff could lift the desk and step through to the work area. The doorway past this had a tarnished plaque on it saying the Coral Lounge but from the look of the wrecked furniture, water damage and ominous shadows no one had been lounging in there for quite some time! He looked to starboard and noticed signs for the Guppy Crèche adorning two doors hanging open due to the list of the deck. He turned back to the plan even more confused than before. Where on here did it mention a stupid crèche?
This ship was a maze, why were the directions so damned confusing? An angry flutter of wings drew his attention to the sight of two birds fighting over scraps perched high on a chandelier that swung backwards and forwards as they fought, the green creepers and curtains of algae wafting about like drapes caught in a pleasant breeze. Miguel wrinkled his nose. This place really needed much more than a pleasant breeze! The place reeked of death, rot and mildew!
He turned back to the sign only to find that in his distraction he had unwittingly dragged his finger across more of the display, creating a clean furrow through the sludge and revealing another smeared image besides the one he had been looking at. Miguel stared at the blurred cross section of the cruise liner, then wiped his hand further along the sign revealing several more decks and gaining a black stinking hand for the privilege. There was a restaurant on the deck on the left, also one on the deck to the right, one up above and another… damn it there seemed to be a bloody restaurant on every damn deck! Why did people need so many places to eat on a ship? And for that matter how many decks were on this ship anyway?
Miguel went to wipe his hand on his breeches, then paused, deciding that even he would not sink so low as to coat his already soiled clothing with yet another foul-smelling blemish. He flicked his hand, trying to dislodge the sludge from his palm, then when that did not help, he smeared it all over the reception desk. Damn! Why had he not paid more attention to what deck they were on when they were led from the ship to take part in Malum’s trap building exercise?
He shook his head in frustration, knowing that it had been pretty hard to focus on anything, especially when the psychotic monster in question had been munching on his first officer at the time! He bit his lip and returned to the dilemma of the decks. Somewhere here there had to be a clue. Was that smudge there something he remembered? He really could not be sure.
A low growl issued from behind him, causing Miguel to whip about and reach for his newly acquired duelling pistols. The padding of heavy paws and clicking talons on marble drew his eyes to the ebony figure of a large Scintarn hound that stepped out from the shadows of the crèche, licking its lips at the possibility of a feast, its dark eyes blazing with intensity.
The buccaneer twisted back towards the sign, torn between the unwanted new arrival and the fact he was sure he had just seen something he remembered on the map. The heavy panting of the hound seemed really loud as it moved closer but Miguel needed to focus on finding Pheris. He was the brains of the operation; the lizards were the hired muscle. They could deal with the oversized dog.
Another growl joined the first as a second Scintarn entered the reception area, slinking past the statue of the man with the trident, hackles raised, lips curled back and teeth bared, its black crystalline spinal ridge catching the light and glinting in the corner of Miguel’s eye.
A bark from behind him and to the left, forced Miguel to turn from the deck plan for a second time, only for the buccaneer’s annoyance to turn into a gasp of shock. There were now five Scintarns advancing towards him all growling menacingly, apart from one that appeared to be munching something within its jaws. Yet, even this action stopped when it saw the fresh food standing before it and the hound dropped down, ears back, legs spread, ready to pounce along with its brethren. Miguel frowned, looking about the room, noting his avenues for escape were being swiftly narrowed down and then he realised that Horatio and Cornelius had disappeared.
“I’m definitely making them into handbags!” Miguel cursed, as he reconsidered the merits of employing two giant lizard cowards as henchmen and slid along the wall, the eyes of the Scintarns watching his every move, saliva dripping from their jaws as if he were a moist chicken slowly turning on a rotisserie.
“How do I keep getting myself in these situations.” Miguel muttered, angry at the interruption to his quest and a little concerned about the number of hounds now squeezing through the doors and heading in his direction. He took another step, only for one Scintarn to lunge forward nipping with its jaws, forcing the buccaneer to step back or risk losing part of a limb.
Miguel fixed the monster with a stern gaze, raising an eyebrow in mild annoyance, before he calmly levelled one of his duelling pistols and pulled the trigger. The gun roared, bucking in his hand, its stock belching egg scented smoke as the lead ball ammunition shot from the muzzle and smashed through the Scintarn’s skull. The hound dropped instantly to the floor and was still.
Another Scintarn slammed through the double doors to the reception lobby, clearly drawn by the sound of the discharging firearm. Miguel turned smoothly, his coat flaring out behind him, arm outstretched. He sighted along the barrel, squeezing the trigger, the gun recoiling in his grasp, its lead projectile leaping from the barrel with a flash of fire and accompanying egg scented smoke. The bullet smashed into the doorway, cracking the wood, leaving the hound ducking down but otherwise unhurt.
The buccaneer did not hesitate, raising the first pistol and moving to pull the trigger. This was how the privateers of old must have been in combat, unstoppable a force to be reckoned with, terror of the high seas… The pistol refused to fire.
“What?” Miguel looked down at the gun in shock, incensed by the weapon’s betrayal after such a spectacular opening act. He swung the second pistol around and tried to fire this one with the same dry click as a result. Surely these weapons fired more than one damn shot! Miguel cursed as he remembered these were duelling pistols! One shot was normally all anyone needed to achieve satisfacti
on. A second shot was simply overkill and was not expected unless both parties missed on their opening salvos!
One quick look at the drooling maws moving cautiously towards him confirmed that he did not have the time required to reload now! Miguel slammed the pistols back into their holsters as the Scintarns advanced, clearly picking up on the change of their prey’s demeanour from calm and in control to becoming on the edge of panic. The buccaneer reached out behind him, not daring to take his eyes from the sleek monsters advancing his way. He felt along the reception desk, searching for anything he could use for a weapon, something to mount a defence against the creatures advancing determinedly towards him.
His hand slid through something wet and slimy and the thought of the two birds sprung to mind, making him shudder just before his hands closed on something hard. He grabbed it and swung it about just as the next Scintarn leapt. Teeth flashed inches from Miguel’s face as the ship’s directory slammed into the side of its head, making the beast drop to one side and the air fill with loose leaves of paper as the binder sprang open.
Two other hounds leapt into the opening, getting a swift boot to the jaw and a punch on the nose. Miguel was not going to go down without a fight! The other hounds were more cautious, snapping from both sides, forcing him further back against the reception desk and making the buccaneer cry out in fear. The other Scintarns were already getting to their feet and then four attacked at once. Miguel jumped backwards, bringing his legs up and sliding his bottom across the work surface, nearly losing his left foot in the process as two sets of jaws snapped inches from each other along the path that he took. Miguel smiled as he realised that he had avoided the attack, only to cry out again as he overbalanced and crashed off the reception and down into the space behind.
One Scintarn leapt up onto the desk, eager to close on its food, only for Miguel to leap up with a letter opener in his hand and plunge the weapon deep into its eye. The hound fell back on the far side of the desk scrabbling and yelping in pain, only for its fellow hounds to jump on the wounded animal and tear it to pieces.
Miguel dropped back down behind the shelter of the reception, briefly considering if it was safe to reload but the rapid skittering of claws on the floor soon put pay to those thoughts. He shuffled along on his knees heading for the opening in the desk and the only possible exit past these creatures. Pieces of water stained paper, office litter and accumulated muck covered the ground, cluttering up his escape route and making his attempt at a stealthy departure anything but. He shuffled around the corner just as another hound leapt up onto the reception and started to pursue him along the top of the desk, the remains of its fellow Scintarn dripping from its jaws.
The buccaneer risked a quick glance up at his ebony pursuer then crawled rapidly towards the exit, heart beating in his throat, his nose wrinkling at the stench through which he crawled. Oh what he would give for a good, long sonic shower when, if ever, he got home! He moved to pass under the desk, only to come nose to snout with another growling Scintarn.
Miguel shrieked in surprise, pushing up with his hands to get out of reach of the hound before him, slamming his own head on the underside of the desk, which lifted up and clouted the Scintarn padding along the top of the reception, catching it under the jaw and dropping it back out into the main lobby. The other Scintarn leapt up just as Miguel staggered backwards, his actions dropping the desk surface straight back down onto the leaping creature and making it yelp and stagger about stunned.
The buccaneer saw his chance and took it, sprinting for the doorway into the Coral Lounge, several sets of sharp teeth snapping shut inches from his fleeing hind quarters. He ran into the darkness, not sure which way to turn, only knowing that if he stayed where he was, he would soon be dog food and that option had little appeal to him. He ran across the spongy carpet, noticed an opening in the wall and ran for it, hearing the hounds frantically scrabbling after him in pursuit.
He charged through the opening, finding himself in a stairwell that spiralled downwards and stank like a charnel house. There was little choice but to take the route offered and the pirate ran down the steps, noting the blood spatter arced across the walls of the stairwell but having no alternative but to follow the carpet treads and see where he ended up.
Miguel leapt from the stairs and fled into the shadows, the hounds tumbling down the stairwell behind him in a rush. The buccaneer came up short with a groan when he realised that he was running through a large area filled with what looked like piles of rubbish, battered packing cases, bundles of clothes and discarded keepsakes. Where had he got to now?
The stark image of a tall metal cage standing in the middle of the room barely entered Miguel’s thoughts as he ran around yet another pile of clothes and jumped over a battered red suitcase that appeared to have tumbled from its pile. The huffing breaths and thumping of paws from behind indicated that the hounds were closing in. Miguel headed for the far wall of the room, throughout the refuse, changing direction, body swerving randomly, cutting left and right, as fast as his footing on the wet carpet allowed him, his eyes frantically searching for a way out, his ears hearing the collisions and scrabbling of the hounds as they struggled to keep up. There had to be a way out of here. There just had to be!
He saw a doorway in the bulkhead and ran towards it, noting the viewing port set in the door. Miguel slammed into the entrance and grabbed the handle, pulling as hard as he could but it refused to budge. Miguel’s breath fogged up the glass as he grunted and pulled with all his might, trying to open the portal but it would not yield. He tried to readjust his footing and slipped on something in the darkness, smacking his head against the glass, seeing stars before finding himself looking into what appeared to be a swimming pool, although the water was missing and instead it was filled with…
The Scintarn crashed into him, dropping Miguel to the floor as it snapped repeatedly. The buccaneer tried to push the creature away, its huge teeth catching the tips of his hand and painfully drawing blood. He kicked out, feeling satisfied with the connecting crunch before back pedalling away, his hand coming down on the item he had slipped on and instinctively closing about it as he crabbed away backwards. Miguel collided with a pile of suitcases, sending them tumbling down about him, filling the terrified man’s vision with glimpses of flashing teeth, faded luggage tags and Samsonite labels.
He rolled to his feet and fled, noting other Scintarns angling in to cut off his route and prayed for some way out of his predicament. There was an opening ahead and he took it at a run, only to slide to a halt in absolute horror as he realised that he had arrived in what could only be described as a slaughter house. Blood streaked bones and offal lay everywhere! Flies buzzed about the room and masses of maggots oozed and wriggled in the corners.
It was like seeing one of those medieval churches with the bones stacked in the catacombs, only there was no reverence shown to these remains. They lay where they had been dropped, snapped ends clearly displaying where marrow pulp had been sucked from the bone, gnaw marks indicating that the end of these people’s lives had been nothing but horrific. Miguel looked over and noted the throne assembled in the centre of the room and the mass of bloody skulls discarded about it, puncture holes in the top of the cranium clearly identifying who had feasted on these particular delicacies.
Miguel’s heart ran cold. Dear god! He had stumbled into Malum’s lair! His eyes darted about frantically, taking in the horror and praying that the master of these dark demon hounds was out at the archways at the edge of the graveyard rather than sitting here waiting like a spider in the centre of a web that the buccaneer had accidentally blundered into.
A mildew coated doorway in the far wall drew his attention and he fled past the throne just as the hounds sped into the room and bounded after him. Miguel ran for his life, knowing he could not hope to save himself in a fight with so many demon dogs. He found another stairwell, leading upwards and leapt the stairs two at a time, his fear filling him with adre
naline and making his body tremble as he ascended. He threw himself from the stairwell and burst out into a room filled with corridors branching off in all directions. Cabins numbered in their hundreds spreading fore and aft.
Miguel chose a direction and ran, not pausing to check for landmarks, just determined to get as far away from the creatures that pursued him. He tore around corners at random, ran through shadowy rooms and slammed door after door to foil his pursuers, his heart hammering in his chest, his journey an experience of sheer terror. He slid across a marble floor, skidded past another deck plan, before sliding down a curved bannister and jumping off straight into the back of Cornelius, who turned and growled menacingly his tail whipping about in anger.
“What are you doing here?” Miguel snapped breathlessly. “Where were you when I needed you, you oversized newt?” Miguel tried to push by, knowing the hounds would not be far behind but Cornelius stubbornly refused to move and instead continued shuffling backwards towards him.
“Why won’t you let me by?” the buccaneer snapped irritably, checking back over his shoulder for the shadowy dogs he expected to be closing in. “I need to get by.” Cornelius turned again and Miguel managed to wriggle past on the left, only to find the lizard was accompanied by his brother Horatio and that they were carrying the mangled form of Pheris between them.
“Where did you find him?” Miguel stood open mouthed. The lizards shared a look between them and a hissing as if to say it was obvious where the mangled cyborg had been. They kept edging backwards to an opening that led onto the listing deck of the liner and out into the eerie mustard light.
The Labyris Knight Page 74
