“I pray that you’ve learned a valuable lesson, mortals. If you continue to follow the direction of my insolent son, none of you shall survive!”
The German commander, lying battered and bloody inside an overturned tank, cursed under his breath in his native tongue. He would not be so easily subdued, but he was far from being an idiot. He would allow sufficient time to pass before attempting a counter attack, playing possum until he felt the time was right. If his ruse succeeded, hopefully the remains of the Nazi army would have some backup by then. He could only assume the entity, which called itself the Black Knight, had gone back to Earth through the black void to gather more soldiers.
***
His blood began to boil and his eyes turned to obsidian as the Black Knight gazed through the portal. He had yet to begin gathering the second faction of his earthly army, and after witnessing the decimation of the Germans it seemed like he’d been wise to wait on assembling the next portion of his assault. Originally, he had intended to return to ancient Greece to rally those who were loyal to him—in the guise of his true self, Ares—but now it appeared a change in his plans was necessary. The corpse-littered field surrounding his father’s abode on Desolace told him that brute force alone would not be enough to unseat Zeus. He would have to alter his agenda, using more subtle and deceptive maneuvers if he was going to have any chance of victory. He rubbed his bearded chin thoughtfully, which was something he wasn’t used to. Upon Desolace, the Black Knight appeared to be a vile, demonic entity, his face a writhing mass of rotten flesh that he hid beneath a cowl, but when he was on Earth Ares found that he could assume any form he desired because technically he was still a god there. Zeus had stripped him of such honors while he walked on Desolace, and appearing in human form was a nice change that sometimes made him reconsider his priorities.
It was only a thought, however, because the Black Knight had no desire to stay in the place he once called home. Nowadays there was far too much competition. Earth had become a veritable smorgasbord of gods, making him feel less than significant. At least when he was in the parallel world of Desolace there were precious few to stand in his way—mainly Zeus because Ares was relatively certain the remaining Greek gods who’d chosen to go there had left for Earth and returned to Olympus. It made the epic conflicts between himself and his father seem like the Christian God and Devil fighting for control over all of mankind.
Suddenly, an idea struck Ares, making a sinister smile stretch across his countenance. What if I gather my father’s earthly worshipers and send them through the portal, telling them that their deity requested their presence at his throne? I could use them as a decoy, sending my loyal followers in after Zeus is sufficiently distracted. “Sometimes, I amaze myself with the shit I come up with,” he muttered aloud. A wicked laugh bubbled from his throat as he turned to set his new plan in motion.
Chapter 4
As nightfall rapidly approached, the heat of the day began to evaporate. The swiftly dropping temperatures resulted in a temporary collective sigh of relief. The sheen of sweat which adorned them all now felt like cool water had been poured over them. Initially this sensation had been welcomed, but once the sun sank completely below the horizon it turned into a chill which caused their teeth to chatter. While traveling during the day, building a fire was the furthest thing from any of their minds. Now, however, it almost seemed like a necessity.
Her arms crossed in front of her mid-section as if she were hugging herself, Julie vigorously rubbed her hands over the exposed flesh of her arms. “Brrrr! I don’t understand how the temperature could have dropped so much,” she complained. “I thought jungles were hot all the time.”
Although he knew anything he said would have little to no effect on the young woman’s demeanor, he opened his mouth to speak. Before a word could pass from his lips, Amber became visible. Edward allowed his reply to die in his throat when he saw the apparition pulsating erratically, normally an indication that something bad was about to happen. He glanced toward the shaman in an attempt to see if the red-haired man was having difficulty breathing or if his eyes had glazed over, both of which were afflictions Brian suffered from when evil was nearby. The strobe light ambiance that Amber provided made it impossible to discern, so Edward turned his attention back to the ghost. “What’s wrong, Amber?”
Her disembodied voice crackled, fading in and out with the brightness of her glow. “Surely you can feel the ground shaking beneath your feet. The army of machines is only about a half day's march behind you. If that isn’t bad enough, the monster who killed me is among them!” The mere insinuation that their former bus driver persisted beyond death and refused to stop making attempts on their lives caused both Katie and Julie to shudder.
Edward wasn’t sure how he had not noticed the tremor under his boots, but the vibration had become more than just a tickle on his soles. It seemed entirely possible that the army could be closer to their position than Amber surmised. He glanced back at his traveling companions nervously. “I know you are probably tired, but we need to keep moving.” The desperation in his eyes spoke louder than his words. However, unless they could somehow manage to all climb aboard the mechanical horse and ride away, their options looked bleak at best.
As if Katie had somehow heard his thoughts, she cleared her throat and voiced an idea. “I don’t suppose we could all fit on the back of this thing.” She paused briefly, not sure if she wanted to suggest her alternate solution. “Or … do you perhaps have a spell in your repertoire that will allow you to melt the hinges off of the horse’s breastplate, so someone could ride within the stomach cavity without being confined inside like a prisoner?”
He had to admit, he’d never even considered Katie’s latter proposition. “I’m not sure if I can pull off such a feat, but I’m willing to give it a try.” Edward truly hoped he could accomplish the task. If he did, their traveling speed would increase dramatically, making the possibility of getting Katie to the Throne of the Gods in time to reverse the curse upon her a much likelier scenario. Even Amber appeared to be calmed by the suggestion, her ghostly form becoming more substantial and her glow steadier. She drifted toward the front of the mechanical monstrosity, eager to assist the wizard by giving him the necessary light to work his magic by.
Having never attempted a spell like this, Edward crouched in front of the metallic horse and tried to study the hinges of the breastplate. He could clearly make out the creases in the beast’s metal hide that disguised the cavity behind it, but from what he discerned the hinges appeared to be on the inside. Edward exhaled loudly in frustration. “It looks as if—” He paused mid-sentence, suddenly feeling like an imbecile.
“Is something wrong?” Julie bit her lip nervously as she crouched down beside him.
In reply, Edward shoved both of his hands against the breastplate forcefully. “Not anymore,” he answered with a faint smile as the panel popped open. Thankfully, he caught the metal door before it made a full downward swing that might have rendered himself and the young blonde woman unconscious. Julie crab walked backward, then sat on the ground in a spot where she could watch. Once she was out of the way, Edward lowered the plating to its fully opened position and peered at the hinges. Other than the fact that they appeared to be heavy duty, they seemed similar to the ones used on the doors of what had once been his home. “Keep your fingers crossed,” he stated, taking a deep breath then closing his eyes to concentrate on a spell.
The veil of darkness surrounding them, previously lit only by Amber’s glow, took on the orange colored hue of sunset as Edward’s palms grew hot. Just as flames began to sprout from his hands, he turned them over and placed them directly on the hinges. Within less than a minute, the heated metal started to look like the embers of a campfire. “Do you need my help with anything?” Julie inquired, inching closer.
Edward seemed lost in concentration and didn’t reply. From his seat atop the steed, Brian tried to help with his own ideas. “Maybe if you grab the ed
ge of the plating and try to pull it down,” he suggested. “Just keep your feet back, so if it breaks loose it doesn’t crush your toes.” He watched as she implemented his recommendation, tugging at the metal panel with every ounce of strength she had. Unfortunately, it appeared that Julie’s frail frame was too petite to muster enough leverage. Frustrated by her lack of success, she sat down with her arms crossed over her bosom and emitted a noise that was vaguely reminiscent of an angry guard dog. Brian turned his head so she couldn’t see his smile, or the fact he was restraining laughter.
After heating the hinges with his magic for nearly two minutes, Edward pulled his hands away and tested the breastplate to see if he’d managed to loosen it. When it refused to budge, he exhaled loudly. Since his efforts had made no difference, he attempted to lift the panel back into its original position. Again, it wouldn’t move, not even an inch. “Damn it,” he cursed, just loud enough that his traveling companions heard him.
From atop the steed, Katie peeked over Brian’s shoulder. “What’s wrong?”
“Not only have I failed to remove the breastplate, it appears as if I’ve locked it in the open position,” he grumbled.
“You welded it open?” Katie’s inquiry sounded more like a statement of despair.
“I have no clue what welded is,” Edward admitted, knowing it was likely part of her quirky repertoire of words from Earth that even now he fought to grasp the meanings of. He would have thought she would run out of such phrases by now, but apparently her supply of them was nearly limitless.
“It basically means that you’ve melted the hinges together, making them one solid piece.”
He sighed. “Then it would appear to be so.” As he conceded to Katie’s assessment, Julie began to cry. “It’s just a minor setback,” Edward stated in a soothing tone, hoping to ease the young woman’s apparent dismay.
She lifted her head to meet his gaze, her eyes leaking tiny rivers of tears down her cheeks. “A minor setback, is that what you call this? Now all of us will have to walk. You’ve disabled the one mode of transportation we had, so unless we manage to find Skarr soon Katie will die before we reach the Throne of the Gods.”
Dumbfounded, Edward turned his gaze back to the metallic creature, trying to assess the validity of Julie’s accusation. From what he could tell, the obstruction would likely hamper the machine’s ability to swiftly move forward, but every other direction should be unaffected. Navigation might be more difficult and take some getting used to, but technically they could travel sideways or backwards upon the beast. “Theoretically, the beast is still functional. We will just have to adapt to how we go about maneuvering it.” As he spoke, Edward noticed the spark of hope reappearing in the eyes of his friends. He could only pray that he wasn’t raising their expectations falsely.
Chapter 5
Progress was slow, mainly due to the increasingly thickening foliage. Days and nights blurred together for Verin as he led the army southward. In his opinion, they should have caught up to the small band of mortals by now. However, each day that passed gave him no indication of their presence. It certainly didn’t help matters much that the man he despised had been strangely absent since the army disembarked on the shore of the southern lands. What good was a scout if he was unreliable? Verin had no idea what the Black Knight saw in the human. He’s nothing but one headache after another if you ask me, and as worthless as the pile of defunct cyborgs littering the landscape below Cemetery Hill.
As the army relentlessly pushed forward, the first glimpse of something other than the jungle materialized ahead on his right. Although it appeared to be engulfed in vines roughly the diameter of a small tree, the distinct shape of an outpost loomed nearby. It was close to dusk when Verin gave orders to the army of machines to continue on their trajectory while he visited the structure. Since George and his three-headed mount had seemingly abandoned scouting duties, he hoped he could make contact with the Black Knight to determine if the entity had altered the mortal’s mission. Verin didn’t consider himself to be a tattle-tale, but couldn’t resist the opportunity to bring the wrath of his master down on the man. The mere thought of the Black Knight slowly dismembering George to exact his fury brought a wicked grin to Verin’s formless face.
Exuding more confidence than was healthy, especially in light of what his master might consider to be failure on his part, Verin drifted through the shadows and approached the outpost. By the time he realized he’d made a grievous error, it was too late. The slippery, rope-like vines had homed in on his presence and targeted him as if they were hungry snakes. They encircled him much like he was on the menu, and though Verin appeared to be nothing more than a misty figure, they firmly kept him in their grasp. When he struggled to break free and could not, it became obvious the vines were magically brought to an unnatural life or controlled by a higher power. The fact that they appeared to have thoughts and instincts of their own suggested the former.
Verin started to panic, his tortured scream for help barely piercing the thick, jungle air. For a moment, the only sound he heard was the constrictive creaking of the vines. Then, as if his wailing had miraculously been interpreted by the army of machines as a command to come to his aid, he began to hear the heavy footfalls of what he assumed to be one of the giant, troll-like creatures. Surely something of its size would snap the vines around him as if they were no more substantial than a string ... or so he hoped.
He waited with as much patience as he could muster, but after a few minutes the stomping ceased. From within the suffocating embrace of the vines, Verin could not even detect the slight whirring noise of the gears inside of the giant machine. It was dead silent, almost like someone had turned the mechanical monstrosity off. In desperation, he attempted to communicate with his savior by using the clicking sounds he associated with being their language. His efforts went unrewarded. The same empty void of response hung in the air.
After a lengthy pause, a disembodied voice broke the silence. “It feels as if I’ve waited a lifetime for this.” A maniacal chuckle followed the statement.
The vines squeezed tighter, the sensation feeling as if the tendrils were wild animals sucking the marrow from the bones of their prey. It shouldn’t have been painful for an insubstantial being like Verin, but the enchantment which gave the plants animation seemed to give them the ability to magically drain the life from creatures that would normally be considered immortal. The voice outside of their constrictive confines sounded familiar to Verin, although he couldn’t immediately place it. “Who’s there? Get these foul vines off of me,” he demanded in a rapidly fading tone, taking every bit of his energy to issue the command.
George couldn’t help but laugh. The idle threat in the formless demon’s tone seemed ludicrous. “Do you smell that?” he asked, taunting Verin. “It’s the smell of victory … for me! You are no longer in the position to make demands. Your army is now mine to command!”
An anguished scream bubbled from within Verin, but the resulting sound which penetrated the barrier of vines wasn’t much more than a barely audible grunt. He now knew who his tormentor was, to his dismay, and it infuriated him beyond comprehension to be at the mercy of a human. The only option left to him was to attempt contacting the Black Knight, though he doubted his pleas would be heard outside of the magical prison he was trapped in. As he strained to be heard by his master, heavy footfalls could be detected moving away from his position and fading into the distance.
***
It wasn’t an ideal situation, but at this point George was willing to exploit any advantage he could. He hadn’t entirely mastered the manipulation of the machine he was in, so he hoped his rudimentary knowledge of its inner workings would allow him to use the proper sequence of beeps and clicks. If he failed, his only option was to utilize the troll-like creature he currently inhabited to continue toward his goal and lose the aid of the smaller metallic counterparts of the regiment. The best case scenario, however, would unfold if the other mechanica
l constructs accepted him as their new leader. The Black Knight was a formidable adversary, but if George had an army at his command it just might even the odds or tip them in his favor.
Within fifteen minutes, he piloted the giant machine into view of the steadily marching column. Immediately, George began to attempt communication, which might have been an easier task were he not a ghost. Ripping a wire loose and bridging circuits would have been a more orthodox method, but what choice did he have? Being a living, breathing human would have simplified matters greatly. However, he could only work with using his limited knowledge of what made the machines tick, and try to exert control over them like he did when learning the ins and outs of the first cyborg he infiltrated.
A wicked grin spread across his ghostly face as the army suddenly stopped. The machines didn’t turn toward him as he’d hoped, although they did appear to be awaiting orders. Their metallic bodies rocked back and forth as if they were impatient with the delay and eager to get back to work, almost like they were preparing themselves to be launched. Some of the larger, animal-shaped drones appeared to be cocking their heads inquisitively. George continued his efforts until he gazed from the eye socket of the trollish sentinel he was inside of and saw results. It certainly seemed as if he indeed had control over the army. Section by section, the mechanical creatures returned to their destructive path, blazing a trail so wide it could likely be seen from the heavens. Although George would have vastly preferred the three-headed flying mount the Black Knight had given to him, then reclaimed as his own, over his current mode of transportation, perhaps the behemoth hunk of metal and wires would be better in the end. The only thing that frustrated him was his inability to soar above the treetops. In that respect, piloting the metallic troll was similar to being blind, which served to make him desire his previous mount even more. He longed for the freedom of the open sky, and to see his enemies before he struck. Inside of the giant’s head, the most likely scenario involved him crushing the small party of humans beneath the creature’s enormous feet before he realized it was happening, thus depriving himself of seeing the expressions on their faces as he took their lives.
Desolace Omnibus Edition Page 94
