“I... wasn’t sure where to go!” The stranger shouted the best he could through the storm, his weak voice only just able to be heard.
“Then follow me!” Aza ran past him and over to one of the buildings sitting across from city hall.
The man followed close behind as his savior charged up a set of great stone steps. On either side, set into four finely crafted pillars, were statues made from the same black rock they had just seen. Together with the stairway they formed a path to the Ayrshire Library, one of the oldest buildings in town, going all the way back to its founding. Like city hall, it had grown over the centuries but far less monstrously, each new addition carefully planned out to match what came before it. With each addition came new rooms and new keys, one of which was in Aza’s very pocket. It was already in his hand as he nearly collided with the doors. He stepped back and hastily twisted the lock, letting himself and the stranger inside. Once in, he locked the door and began running again.
The building was pitch black say for small yellow lights hanging from the cavernous ceiling, their twisting tendrils crawling up the far walls in between looming windows of warped glass. It was like running through a forest, the winding shelves towering over them like a line of trees while the stars gazed down at them from above. Emerging from the dark labyrinth, they hit a small open area with a few tables and a large desk set into one of the inner walls. Sliding over it, Aza found himself face to face with the crooked door leading to the back room. Again the keys came out and the two hurried inside their makeshift sanctuary. Aza deadbolted them in and spun around, holding his finger to his lips. The stranger nodded and retreated further into the darkness while Aza himself remained at the door, listening.
Seconds ticked away into minutes as he stood there with his ear pressed up against the dark wood. Every so often he would rub his neck, still in pain as it twisted into a nasty red. He would look back and see the stranger crouching down in the darkness, shaking and clutching his large backpack, now on the ground. Yet he didn’t dare make a sound. Time kept ticking away. Eventually he couldn’t wait any longer and slowly slid the deadbolt back. The door creaked open as Aza peered out into the library, its shelves looking like those of a twisted mausoleum in the dim light. Yet there were no monsters lurking within them, at least none he could hear or feel. With renewed confidence, Aza slid through the doorway and quickly ducked under the desk. Just as quick, he leapt up and dashed over to the shelves, still alert for even the smallest sound or quickest movement. He could hear the gentle pulse of the lights, the beat of his racing heart, and... something else. The storm, raging just outside, had gone silent. Nervously, he peered down a row of shelves that passed by one of the windows. One step at a time he walked over to it, the sound getting louder as he approached. He hadn’t even gotten to the window before he realized what it was. Shrieking. Not in pain but in anger; in a raw animalistic rage. With the town, now fully ensnared by the ghostly mist, the monsters were free to travel anywhere they desired in search of prey.
The lights here were not powerful enough to attract them, barely even noticeable within the library itself, but the stranger might be. Aza had no idea if those things had any way of following them, or if the Nightman’s lantern would catch them again. A few threads instinctively formed at the thought of them breaking in, a fight he couldn’t win should the horde come crashing through the windows. This was why he was near one now, hiding within the shelves, to wait and see if they tried to force their way in. If they knew he was here, the doors would never hold, the backroom would be swarmed while he and the stranger where torn limb from limb.
Once again seconds ticked by, but had barely made it past a minute before Aza heard a loud crash from outside. Fearing the worst, he dashed to the outer wall and slowly peered out the window. The fog obscured much of the town square, but not the sounds of what lurked within it. Just out of view they were knocking against doors, some even breaking them down in search of the stranger. Aza prayed that they were only attacking the empty businesses and banks that circled the square, but deep down knew that it was little more than wishful thinking. It was then he heard a loud noise echo around the shelves. One of them was at the door. Aza could only stand where he was, not moving, barely breathing, now away from the window and hidden in the shadows. The mad pounding increased, the wood cracking and bending, but never breaking. Instead the sounds ceased, followed by the rampage outside as the majority of the pack moved on to search elsewhere. Once again Aza was let alone in the quiet darkness. After waiting what felt like an eternity, he gave a long sigh of relief and wound his way back over to the desk. They weren’t out of the woods yet, but for the time being it appeared as if the creatures didn’t know they were here.
He delicately pulled open the door and crept back inside, locking the old thing behind him. It was a fairly small area with no other entrances, and no windows. Shelves of old books and papers snaked up the towering walls, leaving nowhere for anything to hide. Here Aza finally began to calm himself, slowly sliding down the door and collapsing into a sweaty heap. He was exhausted both emotionally and physically. The chill of his own fear and that of the cold night beating him down at last. He gazed over to the stranger, who was leaning against one of the shelves and breathing heavily, looking even worse than even he was. It was only then that Aza could finally see what this madman or traveler looked like. His face was thin and freckled, with the nose of an elf. He was clearly around the same age as Aza and seemed to be around the same height. While Aza was thin, he had earned muscle from his years working at sea and at the mill. The man’s sharp features and the way his wet coat sat on his frame, implied he had little at all. The coat itself was like the one Aza wore in length, but was far more extravagant in appearance. Even drenched in sea water, he could tell it was a brilliant silver, with ends like the wings of an insect. The rest of his clothing looked to follow suit, being shades of grey, silver, or blue. The only exception being a brown, patchwork backpack and satchel sitting beside him. Like Aza, he slowly sank to the ground, his wet hair hanging in his face. For a while the two sat there, each one still recovering from all that had happened. From who and what they had encountered. The stranger was the first to break the silence.
“Th...th...thank you.” His was visibly shaking.
Aza blinked a few times, unsure how to react. “It... it’s ok...I’m sure anyone would have done the same.” It had been one of the only times someone he had helped had actually thanked him or showed him something other than fear or distrust.
He laughed. “I’m sure…” His shivering began to intensify. “Is...is there a fireplace here?”
Aza shook his head. “No, but you can use the light.”
He tilted his neck, confused by the statement. There were no lights. Yet, before he could respond, Aza pointed to the far wall mostly hidden in shadow. “I apologize, but my glasses were lost during...the incident.”
“It’s just against the wall.” Aza pulled himself up and strode into the darkness. He dropped down and lay back against a large rootlike structure that crawled up the far wall and fed the dim light at the very top of the high ceiling. The fungus was soft and warm, he could almost fall asleep on it.
The stranger walked over next and felt around, recoiling when he touched it. “What is that!?”
“Just part of the lighting network.” Aza looked up to the shaking man, confused at his repulsion.
“Ok….” He sat down on the floor and slowly backed into it, clearly uncomfortable.
“Do you not have these where you come from?” Aza watched his new friend carefully. “You aren't from around here...are you?”
“No, I’m afraid not....and fungi...such as this we tend to dispose of.” He kept shifting around, disgusted at the strange mass.
Aza laughed. “Sounds wasteful.”
“Not particularly, this sort of thing is uncommon outside of your nation.”
Nation? Aza’s interest was piqued. “Where exactly are you from?”
<
br /> He straightened his collar the best he could and turned to Aza, extending his gloved hand. “The name is Dullahan McGavin of Northern Dellathorn, but you may call me Han if you so please.”
“Oh.” He shook hands. “The name is Aza Tessior of Jacob’s Hallow, but you can call me... Aza.”
“This…. this is Jacob’s Hallow...in the territory of Gremsallow?” He pointed to the ground, excitement in his voice.
“Indeed, it is.”
“Thank the gods...I thought I’d gotten stranded on some haunted island!”
Aza shrugged. “You're not far off. I think you’re the only one that’s survived the journey here in ages.”
There was silence. “What do you mean?”
“Besides the town council's ships, no one enters our waters and lives to tell about it. It’s even worse with the forests. We haven't had anyone come to or from this town on their own accord in... since...well... before my grandad was born at the very least. I know it's been much longer.”
There was a long, deafening silence as Han took in what he had just heard.
“I don’t know where Dellathorn is, but I hope you have someone who can come find you.”
The silence continued.
Aza waited patiently for a reply, but none came. He desperately wanted to ask questions but doubted that this was the time. Instead he just sank back into the fungus and began to close his eyes. He didn’t fully trust this stranger but knew that right now he was Han’s only ally. Besides, while Aza didn’t prefer to judge, Han didn’t seem all that capable of harming him. Not just because he was weak, but because of something else. Aza could feel people so to speak. He didn’t know how it worked, but it gave him the sense that this strange man wasn’t hostile.
After a while he broke the silence again. “What do you know about the rest of the world...outside of this town?”
Aza didn’t open his eyes but gave a weary reply. “Not much I suppose.”
“Do you know about the Paladins?”
“Can’t say I do. Are they from Dellathorn?”
“No...I... what is the highest authority you know of?”
Aza thought about it for a moment. “The mayor, I guess. I know there’s a governor and his commanders somewhere else but couldn’t tell you a thing about them or where they even are.”
“Are you sure you have never heard of the Paladins?”
He thought about it again, old memories unraveling like spider’s silk. “Maybe Aggie mentioned them, or Shaw... Do you work for them?”
“Yes, I am actually here on important business.”
Aza noticed an unevenness to his voice, as if he wasn’t fully sure about his own claim. “And what business might that be?”
“I’m afraid that is only for the eyes and ears of whomever is in control of this village.” There was an edge of arrogance to his voice. “In the morning I will require that you take me to him, her, or them.
“I can take you to Aggie, but not to city hall.”
“And why not?”
“Because they don’t let my kind even set foot on the steps let alone inside. Besides, I wouldn't trust any of them. They may hear you out, or just make you disappear like they do with those that cause trouble.” Aza was somewhat bluffing. There were rumors of the council absconding people away into the night, but Aza didn’t really buy into them himself. Still though, they were not to be trusted, especially with someone from the outside.
Han considered this new information, not sure whether to believe it, but not willing to find out. “Ok, in the morning I will require that you take me to Aggie, or I assume Agnis.”
“It won’t be a problem.” Aza smiled to himself and shifted further into the fungal roots.
Silence followed again as Aza began to drift off to sleep, assuming that Han would do the same. Instead he looked over to his new ally, straining to see him through the darkness.
“One more thing if you wouldn’t mind. What did you mean by “my kind” when you mentioned city hall?”
“The abnormal, people with….” For a moment he thought back to Luke. “Gifts.”
“Oh…” He went quiet for a moment, unsure as how best to proceed. “Are you a mage then?”
Aza thought about it for a moment, trying to place the word. “I don’t know. What would you call this?” He moved and shifted his fingers, extending thin threads of blue light.
The stranger looked down as they snaked over to him. Under any other circumstances he would have jumped, but he just didn’t have it in him. “That...is certainly a gift…”
“Do you know what they are?” Aza fully opened his eyes, the last bits of energy stirring within him.
“Maybe...perhaps we can discuss it tomorrow…” He slunk back into place and got as comfortable as he could against the horrible mass. Now more afraid of this stranger than ever, but unsure if Aza was even aware of what he was. Sleeping was the last thing he should do, but if Aza was lying then surely he had already lost, Or at the very least he needed him alive.
“Oh...ok…” Aza settled back down himself, disappointed, yet understanding.
Slowly but surely each of them drifted off to sleep as exhaustion overtook them. Neither fully trusting the other, yet intrigued nonetheless. Both curious for what the next day had in store for them as the malevolent night marched onward towards the dawn.
Chapter 5: A Deal is Struck
Cold...everything was as cold as the grave. Aza was stumbling through a cavern covered wall to wall in a thick black ooze. It was flowing, shifting, neither solid nor shadow. The tunnel seemed to spiral on to eternity, but Aza knew better. There was something just ahead of him, something old and powerful. All the darkness bent and twisted to its will, dancing to the beat of its vile heart. Aza wanted it, he had to have it...yet he didn’t know why. It was calling him...whispering to him...beckoning for someone worthy of its unyielding might. Aza began running, the thick core of the darkness drawing nearer. He was almost there. He was so close.... Then the floor fell out from under him. He had reached the heart of the cave, tunnels of black tar on all sides flowing and twisting around what lie just out of reach. He never saw the drop off...only a harsh, black nothingness as he fell screaming into oblivion…
Aza shot up, gasping, sweating in absolute terror as he slowly put together it was nothing more than a dream. Immediately, he peered around the side of the fungus to see if anything from the previous night had been real. To both his horror and relief, Han was laying against the tendrils, still fast asleep. It had all happened. Aza laid back where he was, still unable to believe all that had gone down. He had really seen the Nightman...saved Dullahan...nearly died. In fact, that’s what Gretel probably thought had happened. Then he began to fear that she had gone after him...no... she was smarter than that, smarter than he was. No, she would stay put until morning like anyone with even an ounce of self preservation. He would need to find Aggie as soon as possible to clear things up and find out all that had happened in his absence. He also needed to take Han there, see if he was really who he claimed to be. With renewed energy, Aza pulled himself up and brushed off his overcoat. Slowly, he walked over to the door and unlocked it. Dim rays of sunlight peeked out from the windows, barely strong enough to be seen within the dreary building. The night was over and soon enough the living would be the ones walking the streets once more.
He wasn’t sure how early it was, but got his answer when the sound of a key ticking the gears of a lock began echoing around the shelves. Aza pulled over a small wooden chair and sat behind the desk, trying to appear as calm and collected as he possibly could. The clacking of boots on stone increased as Arthur, the head librarian, weaved his way around the aisles. He nearly dropped a stack of papers when he emerged from the shelves.
“Aza! What in the loa’s names are you doing here?” The old man’s eyes narrowed behind a pair of thick, wiry glasses.
“I visited the Norfoss farm last evening and got caught after dark.” His hands tightened again
st the sides of the chair, unsure if he could fool him.
Arthur gave a bitter laugh as he began approaching the desk again. “And you thought you could just come here and stay the night? You entitled youngsters.”
“I’m sorry sir, it won’t happen again.”
“You’re damn right it won’t.” He dropped the papers onto the desk. “File these and do the end of the day tasks. After that I want you out.”
“I... I’m fired?” Aza went rigid.
“What? No, I meant you will be done for the day. I’m fairly certain I will be called upon to deal with the events of last night and therefore be unable to fulfil my duties here. There’s no sense in paying you to bumble around all day.” It was then his distracted gaze passed by Aza’s face before locking onto his neck. “What happened there?”
It took Aza a moment to realize what he was talking about. “Oh...just an accident at the farm.”
“One of that crazy old bastard’s scarecrows try and strangle you?” He rolled his eyes at the thought of that family.
“Ye...yes actually. Luke had to pull it off me, fought it off even.” Aza hastily made up the lie as he went. “We didn’t mention it to the rest of the family, would be rude.”
The cynical old man kept his eyes trained on the nervous boy, staring down his nose at him. “Can’t say I’m surprised. It was only a matter of time before that fool got someone hurt.” He began wandering dangerously close to the back room.
Aza watched him like a spider does its web. “You said something happened last night?”
“Hmm? Yes, you can see for yourself once you’re done here. He backtracked and began making his way to a spiral staircase near one of the walls. “When one of Barnabee’s men shows up, just tell them I’ll be in my office.”
“It won’t be a problem sir!” His ghostly eyes carefully watched Arthur continue, but then halt.
The Curious Case of Jacob's Hallow Page 5
