Guardians of the Dead

by S. L. Wilson

  Connor placed his rucksack at her feet and secured a dagger inside his heavy boot. India had insisted they both dress in black so they could blend in with the landscape in Phelan. Connor wore a pair of black combat trousers with pockets squirrelled away in every fold of fabric. He had expertly filled each pocket with weapons and food. Apparently practicality came before fashion on this trip.

  Amber had quietly sneaked out of the shop to retrieve some clothes from home. She dug out a clean pair of black jeans and a black blouse and pulled on her trusty Converse and one of Tom’s black zip-up hoodies she found under her bed.

  ‘You ready?’ Connor secured his rucksack onto his back and looked over at Amber, his eyes glowing purple in the twilight, showing her he was already using his fae protection magic.

  ‘I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.’ She smiled and swung her own rucksack over her shoulder.

  THEY MOVED as one through the graves, the aged stones protruding from the earth like decaying teeth in a dragon’s mouth.

  The solid church doors loomed ahead of them as they silently approached. Amber ran her hand along the ornately decorated surface, remembering all the people she had lost in her dreams once they passed through these doors. Connor turned the wrought-iron handle and pushed his shoulder against the wood. It creaked open and they stepped through into the dank interior of the church.

  She was surprised to find the interior had retained its church-like qualities. To her left were rows of wooden pews covered in cobwebs and grime. They faced a stone altar, raised on a plinth, with a dark stone table at the centre. To her right was the baptistery, a circular font made of the same grey stone; it stood empty.

  ‘This way.’ Connor gestured for her to follow him into the darkness

  They made their way to the far wall of the church where another door stood ajar; Connor grabbed a torch from one of his many pockets and pointed it at the black void beyond the door.

  ‘This is the start of the staircase,’ he said. ‘We have to go down quite deep to find the gateway. Hold the rail and you should be okay.’

  Amber peered into the darkness and her skin began to crawl like a hundred ants were racing up and down her limbs. With her eyes fixed on the gloom beyond the door, she stepped forward.

  THE STAIRCASE was a rickety metal frame set into a round turret at the back of the church; it smelt of rust and decay. The stairs spiralled down into the inky blackness, and Amber’s hands trembled as she clung to the cold metal railing. Their boots vibrated on each step as they descended, leaving a musical trail in their wake.

  The lower they went the more oppressive the air became. Amber hadn’t suffered from claustrophobia before, but she was fairly certain this was what it must feel like. Her lungs were tight in her chest and her throat felt like it was closing in on itself. She curled her fingers around the rail and steadied herself.

  ‘You okay?’ Connor’s voice floated up from several steps below.

  ‘Just feeling a bit overwhelmed, I’ll be okay in a minute.’

  ‘It shouldn’t be much longer,’ he said.

  She began moving again, keeping her eyes on the faint silhouette of the stairs in the dim light from Connor’s torch. Her head was spinning from the ever decreasing spiral and just when she thought she might actually throw up, she noticed the space around them growing lighter, not the pale light from Connor’s torch but an eerie green light which filled Amber with the first trickle of fear.

  ‘Be careful, the staircase ends here.’ Connor held out a hand to support her as she jumped off the last step.

  ‘Thank goodness,’ she gasped and stepped out onto a metal platform.

  They were in some sort of cage, the walls and ceilings made of interwoven metal, and it reminded her of the chain-link fences that surrounded the kids’ play park by her house. Metal sconces with black candles hung from the intricate barrier, the flames sparking with a ghostly green glow. Amber could make out a large door to her right, but as her eyes adjusted to the murkiness, she was transfixed by the view beyond the cage. She walked to the nearest fence and looked through the wire, lacing her fingers through. The cage was supported by solid rock and was halfway down a huge circular cavern carved within the earth. As her eyes travelled down the rock face, she could see hundreds of doorways chiselled out of the stone, each hole barred with a heavy wooden door and each door marked with a phoenix symbol painted in red. The cell doors filled every inch of the cavern walls above and beneath her, thousands of them spreading deep into the black hole below. Her stomach lurched at the sight. Demon cells.

  ‘This way.’ Connor moved off to the right and pushed on the door embedded in the black rock. It screeched in protest as he inched it open. Drawing a thin dagger from his belt he slipped through the opening.

  The network of tunnels ran like a maze through the rock, a deterrent for any demon who escaped, according to Connor and his books.

  ‘They may escape through the doors but with this many tunnels it would take them forever to navigate their way out. Apparently they aren’t very bright.’

  ‘That’s all very well, but how are we supposed to find our way?’

  He smirked in the gloom and lifted a milky-coloured crystal above his head; it shone brightly as if powered by electricity and then floated off down one of the tunnels.

  ‘Indi worked her mojo on some of the crystals and voilá, we have our very own tour guide.’

  She laughed. ‘That’s pretty cool.’

  Their ‘tour guide’ took them through the maze of tunnels until eventually the air began to close in around them and the walls grew too hot to touch.

  ‘I’m guessing our wall of fire is getting close,’ Connor mumbled as he stripped out of his jacket.

  The wall of fire turned out to be an entire tunnel of fire and molten lava. The walls were alive with flames, and the stone floor glowed blue like the very centre of the flame of a match.

  ‘There is no way India’s spell will drop all of that long enough for us to make it through.’ Amber stared at the impenetrable tunnel.

  ‘She said the spell will work. We just have to trust her.’

  Using the pendant India had given him, he circled his palm around it and chanted softly, the deep purple turning milky-white then becoming crystal clear. In the centre of the crystal Amber could make out India’s face.

  ‘We’re here,’ Connor spoke to the crystal, and Amber could hear India’s disembodied voice respond, drifting out of the stone itself.

  ‘We are ready too. You will only have a few minutes to make it through. When the flames drop you must move quickly.’ She laughed nervously and added, ‘Fay has read that the gateway is guarded but we don’t know by what. Be on your guard, Connor.’

  She wished them luck then returned to the coven.

  The stone continued to glow.

  ‘Can she still hear us?’

  ‘No, it will stop glowing when we are safely on the other side, and the twin crystal in India’s possession will do the same so they know we made it through.’

  ‘Right then.’ She faced the wall of flames. ‘Ready or not, here we go.’

  THE DOOR at the back of the shop led to the storeroom; dusty packing boxes lined the walls and a heavy, mahogany shelving unit housed a selection of jars in varying shapes and sizes. In the centre of the room, marked out on the wooden floor, was a pentagram. It was painted in a deep red and shimmered in the soft candlelight. Wisps of sandalwood smoke filled the room as India ushered the women through and closed the door behind her.

  As she looked at her coven she could see the blue sparks of magical energy caressing their auras.

  ‘Ladies, if you please.’ She swept an arm over the symbol and they took up their positions.

  India trailed a circle of salt around them, forming the protective barrier.

  ‘It’s time.’

  She nodded at each woman in turn, and they joined hands, chanting softly as the candle flames danced around them. In the centre of the circle the air b
egan to shimmer and crackle with blue fire, and the air twisted as it fought against itself.

  The candle flames shot towards the ceiling, illuminating the coven, and beads of sweat glistened on the forehead of each member as they concentrated on the spell at hand. India could sense the power coursing through her veins, the tickling vibration of electricity as it flowed from witch to witch, from sister to sister, building in power as it circled the coven. The soles of her feet were burning as the magic pulled its energy from the earth.

  The air within the circle tore apart and a hurricane filled the small space, ricocheting off the women as they stood rooted to the spot, firmly holding each other’s hands.

  ‘We invoke the goddess to open the gateway and allow safe passage for our friends,’ India shouted into the storm.

  The winds grew more ferocious, and India could faintly see the flaming tunnel within the circle.

  ‘It’s working,’ she shouted.

  The air around them became sticky with heat, and an oppressive atmosphere settled over the coven. The image of the gateway shuddered within the circle before receding out of sight. In its place stood a huge phoenix; flames of blue, yellow and orange caressed its feathers as it let out a high-pitched screech which filled the room.

  ‘Stand fast!’ shouted India. ‘We must stand fast to allow them safe passage.’

  The four women clung to each other as they were buffeted by the wind and fire that spun within the sacred circle.

  India glanced at the crystal by her feet and watched as its light faltered. ‘They’re nearly through,’ she cried. ‘We must hold on.’

  The phoenix swivelled its flaming head and rested its glassy black eyes on India.

  ‘Goddess protect me,’ she whispered.

  The intense heat closed in around them, sucking the oxygen from the room until they were each struggling to breathe. India’s eyes were burning, and she turned her face away as they chanted the protection spell over and over.

  In a wild flurry of feather and flames, the great bird reared up and spread its wings. A riot of red, orange and black filled the tiny space as the bird screeched. It launched forward, spewing forth fire and ash. Beating its wings, the creature screamed. India could feel the magical connection begin to waver.

  ‘Stand fast,’ she shouted once more into the hurricane, urging her coven to hold on, but before the crystal’s light was doused completely the phoenix roared again and vanished through the whirling space.

  The room was plunged into darkness, and India hurried to turn on the storeroom light, feeling her way over boxes until she found the light switch.

  As she switched the light on, a scream filled the air.

  The brilliant red of the pentagram had turned black where the symbol had been burnt into the wood. All but one of the shaken witches stood on their point. Lydia lay on the floor a few feet beyond the circle, the line of salt scattered where her feet had broken its protection. Her head was bent at an impossible angle and her lifeless eyes were frozen in a look of terror.

  ‘Amber…Connor…’ Hettie looked at India as she wept for her fallen sister.

  India nodded. ‘They made it through, barely…’ Gently she covered Lydia’s body with a blanket, ‘…I just don’t know how they’re going to get home.’

  Swallowing down the overwhelming grief that threatened to erupt from every pore in her body, she faced what was left of her coven.

  ‘We can’t reopen the gateway without a fourth coven member. That’s the only way they can get home.’

  The wall of flames vanished quickly, and they ran as fast as they could along the scorched tunnel. As they approached the end, the flames began to flicker along the walls.

  ‘It’s not going to hold for much longer,’ Amber shouted.

  They pushed onward, sprinting for the opening of the tunnel and barely clearing the end just as the flames roared once more.

  ‘That was close,’ Connor panted, resting one hand on his knee and patting out a rogue flame on his trouser leg, ‘I thought they would have given us a bit longer.’

  The end of the tunnel opened up into a wide cave which twisted further down into the earth. It was a gaping hole of utter blackness, and as Connor fished out the torch from his rucksack, Amber tried to calm her nerves.

  They inched forward slowly, their boots scratching the hard rock, lurching over debris and tree roots that snaked out of the walls.

  The light from Connor’s torch bounced macabre silhouettes across the roof of the cave. Their breathing was erratic as they descended lower into the belly of the earth.

  Amber tripped, instinctively thrusting her hands out to stop herself, but she landed on the compacted soil, her knees impacting hard, and she winced at the sudden shock.

  The smell of rotting vegetation mixed with the metallic scent of blood filled her nostrils and she screwed up her face in disgust.

  ‘They’ve been here,’ she hissed into the darkness. ‘I can smell the same stench that covered Dan that night in the graveyard.’

  Connor took her hand and gave it a squeeze. ‘I won’t let anything hurt you.’

  Despite the inky gloom and oppressive atmosphere, Amber smiled. They hadn’t spoken about their impulsive kiss and subsequent lack of communication. In fact the whole event had been swept under the proverbial rug, but she knew Connor would protect her with his life if he had to. She just hoped it wouldn’t come to that.

  A loud scraping sound echoed around them, reverberating off the rock and vibrating through their bones.

  Connor spun around in the direction of the sound, dropping the torch. As it crashed to the floor, it went out, plunging them into total blackness.

  Amber let out a low scream and pressed her trembling body against the cave wall. It felt cold beneath her thin shirt. The heat of the gateway tunnel didn’t reach these depths, and water trickled down the walls, the stone coated with a foul-smelling fungus.

  Her fingers shook as she stretched out her arms and searched the air around her for Connor.

  ‘Where are you?’ she hissed.

  A deep guttural laugh carried through the caves, ricocheting off the walls and enveloping Amber like a murderer’s embrace.

  ‘Connor!’ Her voice rose with panic and she flinched as she felt an icy touch on her shoulder.

  ‘It’s me,’ Connor murmured in her ear. ‘I’m here.’

  Relief washed over her as she grabbed for his hand and clung on tightly.

  ‘Can you get your torch out of your pack?’

  She shimmied out of her rucksack and with unsteady fingers fumbled with the clasp. She pulled out the heavy rubber torch and flicked on the switch.

  The vivid light flooded the cave as Connor tensed beside her. She raised her eyes and felt all the air rush from her body.

  THE MOUTH of the tunnel ahead of them was blocked by a mountainous creature. Its long arms were as muscular as its legs, but Amber’s eyes were drawn to the razor-sharp talons on its fingers where fresh blood dripped and pooled at its feet.

  Its black eyes scoured the cave, and Amber realised with a short-lived sense of relief that they were hidden from its view by the torch’s illumination.

  She didn’t dare breathe and with her spare hand she squeezed Connor’s arm. Moving slowly, he took the light from her rigid grasp and held her other hand.

  ‘Follow me, when I go, you go,’ he said in a low voice.

  Connor faced the creature and with a roar he lifted the torch so the beam shone directly into the creature’s eyes. It screwed up its face and swatted the air with its long arms, howling like an animal caught in a trap.

  ‘Run, now!’

  Dragging her behind him, he set off at a sprint, skirting past the momentarily blinded demon, dodging its flailing arms and heading for the mouth of the tunnel. Its razor claws caught the wall just above Amber’s head and a shower of stones fell on her as she ran, one lump of rock hitting her full on the forehead. She could feel the damp, hot blood oozing from the cut and runnin
g into her eyes, blurring her vision.

  She brushed her face with the back of her hand and concentrated on staying upright and moving as fast as her weary legs would take her.

  ‘Come on,’ Connor urged her on, as her lungs protested severely.

  Just when she thought she might either throw up or pass out, they burst from the mouth of the cave and into a clearing surrounded by trees.

  ‘Wait, please.’ She rested her palms on her knees and bent her head low, the impact she’d received from the falling rock causing her head to spin. Her mouth was dry and her heart was hammering in her chest.

  ‘Here.’ Connor handed her a bottle of water and she drained its contents gratefully.

  There was a deep roar just behind them. She clutched the empty water bottle and shot off after Connor as he ran deeper into the forest.

  THE SKY was a blanket of gold and orange, creating an impressive backdrop to the Black Mountains as they stretched across the horizon. Although the sky was still light as they moved through the dense forest, the chill in the air told Amber that dusk was imminent.

  She was surprised at how lush the landscape was. With all the talk of fire and brimstone she had been expecting a land not dissimilar to an artist’s impression of hell, but instead of rivers of red and geysers spewing fire bolts she was looking at tall trees with black gnarled bark and green leaves. The floor was a blanket of moss interspersed with tiny blue flowers and to her left, through the rows of tree trunks, she could see a field of wild flowers.

  Her stomach growled and she realised neither she nor Connor had eaten anything since the bacon and eggs India had prepared that morning.

  She was about to suggest they stop for food when Connor dropped flat to the floor, hissing for her to follow his lead.

  Without any question she lay on the moss next to him and peered through the undergrowth at what had spooked him.

  On the path ahead of them, partially hidden among trees, was a large cat, its black coat as dark as obsidian. It reminded her of a panther, aside from the sharp tusks protruding from its upper lip and the red spots covering its hide. As they watched, the creature sniffed the air and swung its head in their direction.