Heaven's Night

by Harry Aderton

  “Thank you,” I said, feigning politeness. “Now can we move this along?”

  “Ah, here’s Baraqel now,” said Mephistopheles as the door opened.

  The shaggy scholar shuffled to my side. He held a small looking glass covered with red velvet. “I have tuned this mirror to the vibrations of the one you will possess. His name is Malak and he is a great warrior in his tribe. Once I unveil the mirror, release your body and attune your vibrations to the same harmonics as Malak. You will find yourself incarnated into his body. The first few moments are crucial. You must wrest possession of his body away from him immediately and suppress him. If you don’t, the body may go into shock, convulsions, and even seizures if the battle of wills is overly prolonged. It may hurt the host form. Do you understand?”

  I nodded and swallowed. “Of course. Sounds simple enough.”

  Mephistopheles stepped to my side. “Once you take possession of him, you will lead your party southwest approximately five miles until you cross the same stream where we saw Requel. Follow it westerly until you come across her village. Do you have any questions?”

  I shook my head.

  “Good,” he nodded to Baraqel.

  Baraqel pulled the cover off the mirror.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  I opened my eyes and nearly stumbled.

  The world enclosed about me abruptly, suffocating me. It was if I wore a fleshly cocoon around my soul, heavy and constricting. My heart raced and I felt it pumping in my chest, blood undulating through my body. My lungs sucked in deep breaths of air, the movement foreign and laborious. My angelic senses dulled by infinite degrees as if a coarse bag, heavy and thick, had been placed over my head with only pinpricks in the fabric to see through, smell through, taste through, and hear through.

  My mouth felt dry, lips cracked. I licked my lips with a lolling and swollen tongue, feeling them sting at the touch. I then ran my tongue along my crooked and rotting teeth, brushing against flecks of meat embedded between my molars. A foul and acrid taste filled my mouth, a thick sticky layer of mucous coated my tongue. My breath reeked and I snorted, almost gagging from the stench of it.

  But it was my lack of wings that nearly panicked me. A piece of me was missing. I thought I could sense them still, phantom appendages that should be there. Involuntarily I stretched forth my wings. And nothing happened. Stricken, I glanced skyward longingly. The sky was forever lost to me. I had never been without it. I felt imprisoned, chained to the ground.

  Lucifer was right, nothing could have prepared me for this.

  A mind numbing terror seized me. It took me a moment to notice that it didn’t belong to me. The emotions belonged to the soul of Malak as he recovered from the shock of having another invade his mind, his body.

  A strangled cry escaped my mouth. I collapsed to the earth, my limbs flailing, my body convulsing, as Malak tried to expel me.

  I crushed him instantly and banished him to the corner of his mind, far away from any conscious use of his body.

  The spasms calmed instantly. I relaxed, my breathing heavy, as I lay on my back. My skin itched in a dozen different places, my feet ached, my head throbbed. I opened my eyes, not even aware they were squeezed shut.

  I stared at the swaying tops of the trees, the slow moving and swollen clouds drifting high above, and wondered how anyone could see with such limited vision. The panorama I was used to with my astral sight felt as if it had been slammed shut and any remaining spiritual intuition I had vanished completely. The world felt unnatural, obscene. I was no longer a master of creation but a helpless victim. All I was aware of was this abhorrent body with its multitude of limitations.

  How could any soul endure such a miserable prison of flesh? How could such bodies ever properly reflect our angelic selves?

  A face suddenly loomed above me.

  Strong hands gripped my arms and hauled me to my feet. I stared into an elongated face, half ape, half angel, similar to this body’s own. Dark and piercing eyes gazed back at me from beneath thick brows as if they huddled beneath a ledge. His forehead sloped sharply backwards, his large jaw and flat nose protruding outwards. Long, tangled hair swooped from his head and was tied with a cord. A fine dark fur covered the visible parts of him, starting high in his cheeks and down his neck to his thickly muscled arms and legs. An animal skin, resembling a makeshift tunic, covered his chest and hung to his waist. It was belted with thick strips of leather engraved with designs far more intricate than I would have suspected his culture capable of producing. A curved dagger of stone, chipped meticulously to a fine edge, hung at his waist, its handle bound in leather. Even his tunic had a symmetry and rudimentary design to it that surprised me.

  “Are you well, Malak?” the biped grunted at me in a harsh, guttural language.

  I blinked, stunned. I wasn’t sure what surprised me more; that I could understand his words so easily or that his primitive language could articulate his thoughts so well. Either way, the brain I inhabited translated the guttural speech easily enough. Perhaps it wasn’t so primitive after all.

  “Fine, thank you,” I responded, brushing myself off. I paused, realizing at once that my automatic use of manners was a mistake. Either they didn’t understand it or they didn’t expect it. He looked at me curiously.

  “It was nothing,” I grunted. “I am well.”

  “That is good,” said the biped.

  “Toluk, Malak, come quickly!” cried another. The biped that helped me turned sharply and broke into a run. I followed.

  It felt as if I lumbered ungracefully, as if I should fall down at any moment from the crude fleshly limbs that supported me. But to my surprise, I didn’t fall. I moved with considerable speed. Mephistopheles had cautioned me against trying to interfere with any functioning of my legs, and he was right. I simply let them do what they knew how to do, relying on their muscle memory to propel me along.

  “What is it, Kinat?” asked Toluk.

  “Sheerak would see you now,” said the biped. He was tall, his arms long and lanky. He carried a spear with a stone tip propped over one shoulder.

  “Did she say anything else?” asked Toluk.

  The tall biped scowled. “Not to me. She only wants to speak with the two of you.”

  Toluk grimaced then looked at me. He began to walk towards a village in the distance. “Can’t be good.”

  I walked alongside him. “Why?” I asked, trying to feel my way through the interaction between the two.

  His eyebrows arched. “The omens must be bad. She’ll have Corm dismiss our war party.”

  “No,” I said harshly. I didn’t understand the meaning behind Toluk’s words but I understood enough to realize that I would allow no one to stop me now. I sacrificed far too much and betrayed everything I stood for to find Requel in this Godforsaken plane. No one would get in my way.

  Kinat stared hard at me. “You would challenge Corm as chief? You tried that once before and he beat you as if you were a child. He will kill you next time.”

  “I don’t plan on challenging anyone. I would simply go myself.”

  Toluk grunted. “If this female in your dreams is as you say, then you can’t do this alone.”

  I turned sharply on him. “What do you know about her?”

  He frowned. “Only what you told us. You dreamed of her. She is evil. She is a witch and must die. We must also kill every male in her village and only then will it be safe to take the females and children and add them to our own so our tribe can grow. If we don’t, they’ll come and destroy us all.”

  “Do you believe me?”

  He nodded. “How else could you lead us to her village? How else could you know the witch would be fishing in the exact spot where you said she’d be and wearing exactly as you described?”

  I nodded. “She must die. But I must do it and no one else.”

  “As you say. Let us not keep Sheerak waiting.”

  * * *

  The village was a spattering of huts nestled aroun
d two large campfires in the center of a clearing. Roast boar turned on a spit above the largest of the fires, the tantalizing aroma of charred meat made my stomach clench in hunger. Nearby, females peeled long vegetables then ground them in stone bowls to make a greenish paste. Others prepared animal skins, scraping them with sharp stones, while still others brought in baskets with fresh fruit piled high. The elderly females barked orders and prodded the younger ones to fetch water, stoke fires, or tend to the boar. Children ran freely, laughing and playing, wearing nothing. If one ran too close to a working female, a cuff alongside the head would send the child hurriedly along.

  The younger males sat apart from the females, fashioning tools and gathering wood. Several more built makeshift pens where they kept wooly oxen. The older males did little, clustered together in groups, chatting and laughing.

  I quickly realized clothing was a measure of status. Only the mature or elderly males and females wore clothing; the females only wore them about their waist and the males wore full tunics that ranged from the plain to ornate. I noticed my own tunic was even more elaborate than Toluk’s. Baraqel had mentioned I was a great warrior. I expected to see others similarly dressed to Toluk, Kinat, or myself but I saw no one.

  Apparently Toluk expected the same. “Where is everyone?” he asked Kinat.

  “Hunting party. Big game. I was told to stay here and attend Sheerak.” He hawked and spit.

  Toluk frowned but said nothing.

  We passed through the village center, an occasional grunt or salutation was tossed our way before we moved towards a cave that led into a low hill. Strange and primitive markings were painted along the rim of the cave entrance. Before it sat a heavy set female, her hair gray and her face round and plump. She wore a dress that was dyed blue and streaked as if the colors ran. Her cheeks and forehead were marked with dried blood. She smiled as we approached, showing swollen gums, her teeth gone save for two, one on top the other on bottom.

  “Sheerak, I have brought them as commanded.” Kinat made to depart.

  “You may stay, Kinat,” said Sheerak.

  The lanky warrior grunted, not pleased, and shuffled to one side.

  “Sit,” she ordered us.

  Toluk and I seated ourselves on a mat before her. A putrid smell emanated from the cavern and my nose wrinkled against it. It was the smell of open bowels and blood. A beast had been sacrificed in there. I could just make out the carcass on a bed of rocks.

  “I have asked the great spirits to let me know if the dreams you’ve been having to kill the witch and attack the other village are true, Malak. They have spoken. They tell me they are not.” Her eyes turned hard and she leveled a gaze at me.

  I swallowed. “What do your spirits say then?”

  “That you are deceived. That you are the danger to us. If I let you lead the war party then it is our village that will be lost.”

  “I know what I must do,” I told her. “It is why I am here.”

  Her eyes narrowed and she stared at me for a long moment. “On second thought, you may leave, Kinat. You too, Toluk.” After the two warriors left, she leaned in close. “You are not Malak. Who are you?”

  I should have been surprised by her insight. I wasn’t. I was relieved. I no longer felt like playing the part of a primitive. “I am a spirit who is not to be trifled with, Sheerak. I am here to lead a war party and claim the female.”

  She shook her head. “I cannot let you do that, stranger. My spirits tell me that our tribe will fall if you do.”

  “I don’t see how you can stop me,” I said.

  She grinned. “If I raise my voice, ten warriors will heed my call and stick their spears in you, great warrior or no.”

  “If I raise mine, I will rain fire from the sky and destroy you and everyone in this village. I swear it.”

  Her stony face fractured and she sat back. “What do you want of us, stranger?”

  “I have told you. I will claim the female I seek and afterwards I will depart, never to trouble you again. Malak may return to this body. No one need be harmed.”

  “I cannot let you lead the war party.”

  “I have no desire to do so. Neither do I believe I need to. I can do my task alone. In fact, I prefer it this way. Allow me to stand and walk away. Do not let others follow me. Do not tell anyone where I am going.”

  “If I agree to this, then you will not bring harm to me or my village?”

  “You have my solemn vow. Do we understand one another?”

  She nodded. “We are agreed, stranger. It will be as you say.”

  “Agreed then.” I climbed to my feet.

  “But you better hurry,” said Sheerak, a glint in her eyes.

  “Why?”

  “The dreams of Malak appeal to me, false or no. I want our village to grow. I want our tribe to be strongest under the sun. I want their females and children. My great spirits tell me not to let you lead the war party or our village will be destroyed. I have obeyed. I have sent Corm instead to lead the war party and kept you here with your two most loyal followers, Toluk and Kinat. Our strongest warriors are with Corm at this moment and they will destroy the village and steal the children and take the females, all save the witch. I have ordered her death by dismemberment, it is the only way to destroy a witch. If you would claim her before Corm tears her apart, you should be on your way.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  I dashed through the trees. Branches slapped me, stinging, scraping. My heart felt as if it would burst, my lungs on fire, but still I ran. My legs felt heavy, fatigued, like wooden stumps. Cramps ate into my sides.

  I had no idea how far I had run, and within the woods, uncertain if I even headed southwest. The stream Mephistopheles told me to intersect and follow was nowhere to be found.

  I broke into a clearing. The sun crushed me under its heat. My head swam with dizziness, my body drained. I looked up into the sky. The sun was at its zenith. Which way was southwest? I couldn’t tell. And without any spiritual intuition, I felt blind. Lost.

  Panic clouded my senses. Fear tore at my mind. The thought of Requel butchered at the hands of these savages was almost too much to bear.

  It’s why you’re here, a thought cut across my mind. To see her dead.

  Not like this. Never like this. It was my task and mine alone. No one else’s.

  Does it make a difference? Dead is dead.

  I stopped abruptly, chest heaving. It took me a moment to realize the thoughts in my mind were not mine alone.

  Malak.

  I hadn’t known I could speak with him. Or he could speak with me. Mephistopheles never mentioned anything like this.

  I closed my eyes and sank to the ground, calming myself. “Do you know where she is?”

  Of course.

  “Tell me.”

  No.

  “Tell me, damn you!”

  You have taken all from me. What more is left?

  “Your body. I had intended to give it back to you.”

  Now you won’t? Kill me then. I will be better off.

  “No,” I snarled. “I won’t kill you. I’ll hurl you off a cliff. It won’t be a tall cliff, not enough to kill. But it will smash your bones and cripple you. I’ll make sure of it. Then I’ll give your body back to you, broken, suffering, and useless. I swear it!”

  His fear rippled through me.

  And if I tell you?

  “All I want is her. Nothing else.”

  Why? She is a witch.

  “No, she isn’t. The dreams you had about her, about her people – all of it is false. You were misled. She’s very special to me.”

  Then why do you want to kill her?

  “I don’t have time to debate this with you!” I growled. “Tell me or not. Last chance!”

  You’re going the wrong way.

  I scrambled to my feet. “Which way then?”

  You’re looking for the stream? You’ve been running alongside it this whole time and in the wrong direction.

&
nbsp; Cursing softly, I stared blankly around the clearing, not even certain where I came in from. “Which way?”

  There, beside that large stone.

  I bolted in the direction given to me. Once again I found myself hurtling through the trees. Malak’s body was nimble and easily dodged hanging limbs and leapt fallen logs. I scurried down into a hollow. The sound of lapping waters reached my ears. I smiled in relief, hope igniting. Breaking through a stand of pine, I splashed into a stream ten feet wide.

  “Where to?” I asked, eyes darting around.

  Downstream.

  I leapt back on the bank and tore off at a run.

  There is a faster way to her village, one that only I know of.

  I stopped abruptly. “Tell me!”

  Give me back my body. I’ll take us there faster than you.

  I shook my head, frustrated. “Impossible. I need it to save her.”

  Now you want to save her?

  “I’ve only ever wanted to save her!”

  Then you will be too late without my help. Corm will find her first.

  “I’ll give you something else,” I growled. “What else do you want?”

  There is nothing else.

  “I can give you knowledge,” I blurted, my mind racing.

  A pause. What kind of knowledge?

  “All kinds. Knowledge you will find nowhere else. More than Sheerak will ever divine from her spirits. The kind that a chief could use to achieve greatness,” I said, recalling Toluk’s words that Malak had challenged Corm once.

  Another pause. Give me this knowledge and I will help you.

  “No. I save the female first, then I give you this knowledge.”

  I do not trust you. You have taken my body from me and you say you have misled me about everything else. Why should I believe you now?

  “You were misled by someone else, not me. I have told you already what I would do to your body if she dies. I will destroy it, I promise you. What other choice do you have?”

  Go where I tell you to go. You will get there before Corm.

  I took off.