Bound to the Abyss

by James R. Vernon

  What was the man doing to her? No, it was none of his business. Besides, what could he do unarmed?

  But what if it was Jaslen? Wouldn’t he want someone to step in and help?

  Heart pounding, he found himself creeping toward the shrouded mound.

  WHY DID HE KEEP making such horrible decisions? He had always been so careful at home. Shaking his head in annoyance, Ean snuck along until he was only a few paces away from the figures. This close he could make out two distinct figures. The man seemed to be on top of the woman, his arms doing things that Ean couldn’t see. It was clear though that the woman wasn’t enjoying it. She thrashed around beneath the man, trying to escape.

  Ean’s breath caught in his throat, and he wished he had just walked on by and remained ignorant of what was happening in this dark alleyway.

  But he hadn’t.

  Now he couldn’t live with himself if he just walked away. But what could he do without a weapon? He could try to cast a rune, but which could he use? The wrong one could make things much worse. His mind raced as his eyes jerked around on to the rocks on the ground, to a loose shard of glass, to the stack of firewood against the building. That would have to do. He grabbed a piece of wood … causing the rest of the pile to spill down with a clatter.

  The man immediately spun, drawing a dagger from his waist. He was an average-looking man, not much taller than Ean, with scraggly hair and a misshaped beard. Dressed in shabby brown clothes from top to bottom with an empty quiver at his waist, his face registered surprise at first. When he sized Ean up, a vile grin spread across his stubbly face.

  “Come here, boy.” His voice was harsh and gravelly. “Best if you don’t make me chase you down like I did this little tart.”

  The man’s free hand beckoned reassuringly while the one holding the dagger was held back a bit. The girl stayed where he had left her, either too scared or hurt to use the opportunity to flee.

  It was all Ean could do not to bolt away. He believed the man could catch him; Ean certainly wasn’t a fast runner, but if he threw the log at his leg, maybe that could slow him down enough so that Ean could get away. Or his throw could miss, which was more likely to happen, and he would end up angering the man. And what about the girl? If the girl would just get up and run, she might have a chance.

  “Come on, come on,” the man said impatiently. “I don’t need to kill you, boy. A quick knock on the head and you get to sleep through this little nightmare. You wake up, me and the rest of my mates are gone, and you’re none the worse for wear.”

  His voice dropped low, his grip on the dagger tightening as he inched forward. “But if I have to waste the time to catch you, when the villagers find you in the morning, it will take days for them to even figure out if the pieces I’ve left are even human.”

  Ean didn’t believe the man for a second that he would just knock him out. He glanced at the girl, thinking he could maybe give her some kind of signal to run and then blinked in surprise. It was Paige.

  Her hair was disheveled, but he could see sad eyes behind a dirty and tear soaked face. She was still wearing the same clothes as earlier in the day, although now they were torn and muddy, revealing more than a sweet girl like Paige would want to show. His mouth opened slightly at the sight, and that was when the man decided to pounce.

  He hit Ean full force, knocking him off his feet. Sharp pain ran up his left side just before he hit the ground. The piece of wood flew out of his hand just as fast as the breath left his body. The man leapt on top of him. Locked together, they rolled in the street until the man pulled away. As Ean fought for his breath, the man got to his feet. The assailant’s bloodied dagger glinted in the moonlight.

  No time to think. The man kicked Ean in the side of the head. Stars exploded in his eyes from the pain. He brought up his hands to protect himself, but the repeated kicks sent him rolling along the ground until he splayed out on his back. Pushing himself up on his elbows, he struggled to focus. The man was walking towards him casually now, that wicked grin still on his face.

  “This could have gone so much easier for you.” He twirled the dagger in his hand as he approached. The man was taking his time now, not worried at all about either Ean or Paige getting away. “I would have just slipped the dagger into the back of your neck and you barely would have felt a thing. Now I’m going to peel your hide before I return to my fun with the girl.”

  He was standing over Ean now, that dagger spinning in his hand, flecks of Ean’s blood spraying off of it. Ean tried to push himself back and away, but the man laughed and planted a boot square on his chest.

  “Nowhere to go, worm.” Kneeling down, he grabbed Ean by his shirt with his free hand and pulled him up so that they were face to face. “You should have minded your own business.”

  Ean expected intense pain to come next, but instead he was suddenly let go. The man screamed and stumbled back, the dagger dropping from his hand. Blood was dripping from the arm that had held the dagger, and he was waving it about wildly. It only took Ean a few moments to see the slightly shimmering outline of Zin latched on to the man’s arm.

  Ean rushed to his feet and snatched up the dagger. The man was still waving his arm around and beating at it with his other hand. To Zin’s credit he was holding his own. A few of those blows must be connecting. It was hard to tell with the imp being nearly invisible. Well, Zin had helped. Now it was time to return the favor.

  Ean tried not to think too much about what he was about to do. Holding the dagger low, he relied on his knowledge as a healer to deliver the fatal thrust.

  Before he could attack, the man slammed the arm Zin was riding into the wall. Zin fell motionless into the street. While Ean was trying to grasp what had happened, the man kept moving. Lashing out with a foot, he caught Ean in the stomach, knocking the wind out of him once again. Then, as Ean doubled over, the man kicked him again, this time in the face.

  The blow almost made Ean black out. When he finally got his wits about him, he was on his back once again, the knife no longer in his hand. Before he could even shake the stars from his vision, the man was on top of him, both of his hands around Ean’s neck. The stars in Ean’s eyes changed to dark spots as he struggled to breathe.

  “I don’t know what you did,” the man growled, spittle dripping off of his lips. “But I’m done playing around with you.”

  Ean grabbed the man’s wrists and tried to pull them away, but they were like steel. Even if Ean was at his best, he wouldn’t have had a chance against the stronger man. Fear and panic set in as his body demanded more air. He yanked at the man’s wrists, but the bandit grunted and squeezed harder. Ean tried bucking around, but the man was too heavy. The black specks turned into a dark haze as he looked up at the man about to kill him.

  Fear turned to anger, an inferno scorching away the unwanted emotion. He would not die at the hands of this peon, this thief and rapist. He was so much more than this man, this pathetic little bug that picked on women and children. He felt a power rush through his body and down his right arm. It seemed to explode out of him like a flood, leaving his hand and flowing into the hand of the man holding him.

  This time the man screamed, but not the lower guttural yell of anger and pain, but the same screech of fear that Paige had made while the man had been trying to violate her. Throwing his head back, the man tried to pull away, but somehow Ean was the stronger one now.

  Ean watched the man jerk to the sides and back, his vision coated by a dark blue light. This was real power; this was what he had wanted all along. He would destroy this man and any other that got in his way now. The glove on his right hand burst into a bluish flame and disintegrated just as quickly. The runes on his hands glowed bright, freed from the confines of the glove. He had thought that summoning strong creatures would make him powerful, but this … energy was so much better. It made him feel strong. It made him feel alive. It made him feel …

  The bandit continued to try and pull away, his movements frantic. His ski
n was a sickly gray color now, his eyes completely black. His mouth hung open but no sound came from it. This wasn’t what made Ean pause though. All over the bandit’s face, his skin bulged, as if dozens of tiny creatures were moving about just underneath.

  The sight of it snapped Ean out of his rage. He released the man’s arm. The bandit flung himself backwards and grabbed at his face with both hands, clawing at it with gloved fingers. Inching his way back away from Ean, his mouth still hung open in that silent scream.

  Climbing to his feet, Ean watched the man with a mixture of horror and curiosity. What had he done? He could still feel the power pulsing in his arm. He hadn’t cast any kind of spell, yet the man had clearly been affected by something. Was still being affected right before his eyes.

  The man was on his knees now, his hands covering his face. Ean couldn’t be sure, but the man looked … bigger … now. Before, his clothes had hung off of him, but now they stretched around a body straining against the fabric. Not knowing what else to do, Ean glanced back to check on Paige. The girl was gone. He hoped she had taken off before Ean had done, well, whatever it was that he had done to the bandit.

  A growl from the man made him turn around, and now it was Ean’s jaw that dropped. The man still held his face in his hands, the gloves though were torn away, making his hands visible. They weren’t human hands though, not anymore. Brown scales replaced human skin, three stubby claws where his fingers used to be. Pulling his hands away, the bandit moaned as Ean got a clear view of his face.

  It was unrecognizable from what it had looked like only moments before. The same scales that had covered his hands also covered his head, his hair completely gone. His eyes were sunken back in his head. All Ean could see were tiny black dots peering back at him. His nose was longer and pointed as if it had been stretched out, while his lips were pulled back, revealing dozens of sharp little teeth.

  “What have you done to me?” The man’s voice was high pitched now, which seemed to shock the bandit just as much as it did Ean. “What have you done?!”

  Apparently not interested in a response, the man, or what had been a man, leapt to his feet and ran off. Ean watched as the man went wailing into the night, disappearing into the darkness. Stunned, he stood there, having no idea what to do next.

  The runes on Ean’s body still glowed, making him a walking beacon. The last thing he needed with the raiders in town was to draw attention to himself. He looked for a glove, a cloth, anything to wrap his exposed and glowing hand in. He spotted a piece of familiar fabric on the ground. It was the same color as Paige’s dress. He wrapped it around his hand, hiding the glow while his mind raced with questions. But there was no time to look for answers.

  “Zin,” he said, voice cracking as he tried to rise. “Are you ok?”

  He scanned the area until he found the still unmoving blur of the invisible imp on the ground. Kneeling, Ean gently placed a hand on top of the imp. He was still breathing, which was a good sign, and he didn’t feel any signs of cuts or blood on the imp’s body. Ean nudged at the imp gently.

  “Zin, wake up. Come on buddy, I need you to wake up. We have to get out of here.” After a few shakes the imp gave a soft moan and materialized into sight.

  “I told you this was a bad idea,” Zin said, raising his hands to his face while Ean let out a hiss of relief. “But you wouldn’t listen. Now I have a massive headache, and I think I lost a few teeth in that cretin’s arm.” The imp’s scolding was music to his ears.

  “What happened to him anyway?” Sitting up, the imp took a look around. “Did he get tired of beating on you and carry that girl off?”

  “No,” Ean said slowly. “I … did something … to him.”

  “Did something? What did you do? I don’t see anybody or smell any blood, so you weren’t stupid enough to summon anything. Did you cast another rune randomly and get lucky?”

  “No, this was something new.” Ean paused, not quite sure how to explain what had happened. Just thinking about all that power running through him made him want to take it all in again. He could feel it now, sitting just in reach. It was in his arm. No, that wasn’t quite right. It was coming from the tattoos on his arm, literally within his reach. What would it hurt for him to draw on it a little more …

  “I felt energy pass through my hand and go into the man,” he said, a slight strain in his voice as he remembered the euphoria it had given him. Licking his lips, he almost tried to draw it in again, but restrained himself. “It was like a flood coursing through me. When it hit the raider, he transformed into something more horrible than he already was … a monster.”

  Ean shuddered, remembering every detail of the horrible creature he had created. “How is that possible?”

  “It must have been pure energy from the Abyss. Those tattoos are meant to be a direct connection to my home. That’s why it’s possible for you to cast runes by drawing them with your fingers now and why summoning should be getting easier for you. But for you to actually draw on the energy, I didn’t think that would happen for quite some time.”

  “Wait, you knew this was part of what we did to me, and you didn’t tell me? This is a big deal, Zin!”

  “Quiet down, you idiot,” the imp hissed. “We aren’t exactly in the safest of places. Keep it down.”

  “Did you hear what I just said? The energy changed that man into a monster. Is the same thing going to happen to me?”

  The imp shook his head. “No, I think the tattoos help channel the energy without letting it change you. You should be fine.”

  “Should be? Should be?” Ean kept his voice low, although it was difficult. “All you told me when we first decided to do this,” Ean gestured to his arm, “was that it would increase my ability to summon creatures from the Abyss at a faster rate and give me some control over them. That was it. Now you’re telling me I’m directly touching energy from the Abyss?”

  “Basically, yes.”

  “Wonderful.”

  Ean turned and began to pace back and forth as the imp continued. “When you open a gate to summon something, you’re punching a hole in the barrier that separates this world and the Abyss. Obviously, that is going to require energy from the Abyss.”

  “You mean, I’ve been using energy from the Abyss without even knowing it?”

  “Yes. Every time you’ve summoned me or cast a rune, a bit of dark energy has flowed through you.”

  The fact that the imp sounded so calm made Ean even angrier. Not just at Zin, but at himself as well. He had been so smug thinking his ability to summon creatures would make him powerful, make all those that had bullied him run and hide or bow at his feet. All the while he could have grown horns, or his eyes could have fallen out, or who knows what else. This new knowledge knocked him down a peg, and Ean didn’t know whether to focus his anger on the imp or on himself. He had been so foolish!

  “But now I’m safe from it? How would you know?” Better to save his anger, he had gotten used to doing that over the years. “I’m tired of you letting me know pieces of information here, pieces of information there. I want you to tell me everything you know about what we’ve done to me. I don’t want any more surprises.”

  “Listen, Ean. I’m discovering things right along with you. Most of the ideas I’ve mentioned are just educated guesses,” the imp said, looking off down the alleyway. “I know that it protects you from the energy. I know that it makes you tolerant to summoning, and using that energy increases it at a much faster rate. And now I know that it allows you to focus that energy out of your arm. Other than that, I have no idea what else it might do. There may be other things we will discover later, or that might be it.”

  Throwing his hands in the air, Ean began pacing again. “Great.” He wanted to scream. He wanted to kick the imp, kick himself. Why did he ever think things would work out in his favor?

  “Well, Zin, if you truly don’t know much about this then who does? Who can tell me for certain whether or not I’ll turn into some freak
if I keep using these powers?”

  Zin simply shrugged. “I have no idea. The gods, maybe?”

  “The gods?” Despite his anger, Ean couldn’t help but laugh. “Why would the gods speak to me?”

  “Hey, you asked. We’re going to the capitol, so you can take your pick of which temple to visit. If one deity doesn’t respond to your prayers, you can just get up and go petition the next one.”

  Ean shot the imp a contemptuous glare.

  “What do you have to lose?” the imp continued.

  “Alright, fine. Let’s try to find the others and get somewhere safe.”

  Motioning for Zin to follow, he had just made it to the corner of the building when he heard the sound of running footsteps. Judging from the intensity of it, there was more than one pair as well.

  Ean jumped behind the building and crouched low. Zin was already invisible and making his way over as fast as his little legs would carry him. It sounded like the footsteps were coming from the north. Had the man gone and brought back more of his fellow bandits?

  Probably not. Ean would imagine as soon as the bandits saw what the man had become, they would have killed him on sight.

  Seven men came running into view, each with half raised swords and daggers in their hands. A few had quivers and bows slung over their backs. They stopped as they reached the intersection where Ean had barely survived just moments before. One man knelt down and began looking at the ground.

  “This was it, Cal,” the man said as he scanned the ground. “There are still pieces of the girl’s dress here.” His hands pointed to various places on the ground. “And there was certainly a fight here. The dirt is kicked up in a few places and there is the occasional splattering of blood in others. The girl was unhurt, yes? So it must either be the boy’s or the bandit’s blood.”

  “Probably the boy’s blood.” The man that spoke stood shoulders above the rest, his body covered in a strange grayish armor that covered both his chest and arms in what looked to be a single piece. He held a long sword in one hand; held it like a man who knew how to use it. The other men were looking at him, waiting for him to continue.