by Sarah Kleck
I’d have to use the sun’s movement as my guide. How did that work, again? The sun rises in the east . . . I cursed myself for not paying more attention in geography class. It then moves southward—that’s right, isn’t it?—and sets in the west . . . it’s never seen to the north. Exactly! The sun is never in the north sky, right? If only Colin were here. I was sure he’d know what to do. Was he still in the fog? I just had to continue. One way or another.
The forest was completely silent now, as if every living being held its breath as I passed. Progress was painstakingly slow now that the sun was mercilessly beating down on me. I crossed shallow, almost soundless streams; avoided overgrown ponds; and trudged around mud holes. Pristine, unspoiled nature as far as the eye could see. Beautiful, yet full of traps.
I took care with every step not to trip over protruding roots, stones, or dense shrubs. A machete would probably have been more helpful in this jungle than that dumb spinning compass.
Suddenly, I heard something like clanging, then a rasping sound that set my stomach churning. I held my breath. Damnati!
I hastily ducked behind a knotty fallen tree trunk. My heart beat so loudly, I was afraid they’d hear it. I spied through the root tangle into the shadows. Fear sharpened my senses.
There were four of them: two scarfaces walking ahead, a third right behind them, another straggling behind. On patrol—at least, that’s what it looked like.
“Watch where you’re going, asshole,” the third said to the straggler. “Damn well pick that up.”
“Yes, yes, all right.”
I clasped my hands over my mouth to stifle any noise. My eyes widened with horror. The voice of the last one didn’t sound nearly as raspy as that of other damnati I’d had the pleasure of meeting. It almost sounded human. What frightened me most was not its sound but that I knew it.
It was Felix’s voice. I swallowed my fright and stared through the thicket. Felix, or whatever had become of him, bent down to pick up some shiny metal objects that were causing the clanging sound. Were they traps? I focused on him. His black cloak didn’t show much of him, but as soon as he was upright again, I was able to see his face. I bit my tongue to keep from screaming. He still looked like Felix, but a transformation had begun. His once dark-brown eyes were so turbid that one might have thought he was blind. His skin appeared scaly and pale, and above his right eye a ghastly sore spread, stinking of rotting flesh so badly I could smell it. His hands were covered in scars, warts, and burst boils. I barely kept from puking. How long had Felix been here? Three, maybe four days? And the transformation was already irreversible after such a short time. My mood darkened. Felix was no longer human—he had become one of them.
“Get a move on!” the third one shouted over his shoulder.
I watched in disbelief as the Felix damnatus followed the others. Once more, I held my breath as they passed near my hiding place. I remained in my crouched position for several minutes, then slumped and buried my face in my hands.
I heard Irvin in my head: Damnati are evil, soulless creatures who have lost their place in the world. What did I expect? That Felix could redeem himself? That he’d change? That it all was just a misunderstanding, as he’d tried to convince me? Surely not after what Sally had told me. Misunderstanding . . . that word alone! My God! Just how stupid had I been? Felix had wanted to rape me—I only owed it to Jared that he hadn’t succeeded. And what about Sally? He’d poisoned her and would have been fine with her death. Just so she wouldn’t get between him and his plan to attack me. And what about the other girl? I shuddered. Though I’d been spared the worst, thanks to Jared, it had not done that girl any good. She’d fallen prey to Felix, who’d been willing to murder and was a rapist. Who knew what else he’d done or what else he was capable of?
What the devil was wrong with me that I’d let him get away with it? Had I really just suppressed it all because I’d been spared the worst? Had I really been dumb enough to give someone like Felix a second chance because the worst hadn’t happened? What happened to that girl was my fault. I could have prevented it by going to the police. What had driven me to worry about his future? I knew what he was!
So it was true. The girl’s friend had taken care of Felix before the police got to him. I felt satisfaction. I didn’t approve of murder, but Felix had gotten his just desserts. Though did he have to run into Morgana—however that might have happened? Or had she already been looking for him? She’d obviously offered him a deal: to be spared damnation in exchange for his deformed soul. Now he was a damnatus—and a damned one. Good people don’t become damnati. Good people wouldn’t ever enter into a pact with that witch. But Felix had. Now he was trapped in Morgana’s bondage for eternity because he was too cowardly to face what awaits murderers and rapists.
Once the damnati were out of sight and earshot, I slowly got up, wiped the dirt from my legs, stretched a little, and followed them.
CHAPTER 7
Where were they now? All those fabled creatures that Ruth had promised me, that were supposed to stand by my side? The way it looked, I was all alone on this island—apart from the damnati, of course. They’d tear me limb from limb if they managed to lay hand on me. Provided they didn’t think of worse things to do. And I was stupid enough to follow them! But whatever happened, there was one damnatus I would not let get away. That one had already gotten away with far too much. Anyway, these stinking monsters would lead me straight to Morgana—and, I hoped, to Jared.
The four trampled an obvious path through the forest. Even a complete idiot would have been able to track them. I didn’t have to get close to follow.
Since I’d lost all sense of time, only the sun’s position provided me with an idea of how long I’d already been here. I guessed it’d been about two and a half hours—in the scorching heat. I felt it in my bones. The damnati must have felt the same, because they decided to take a break. I snuck in a wide arc around their resting place, taking great care not to make a sound. I fought my way through thorny vines, climbed over a huge tree stump, and pressed myself along a ragged cliff. Then I was there. I had circled their improvised camp, climbed on a jutting rock ledge, and was lurking right above them.
“You stink!” one accused the other as I came within hearing range.
“Shut up!” the stinker hurled back.
I advanced a little to peep over the edge. They were all lying in the shadow of a huge tree, drinking from a hide-covered flask.
“Don’t drink it all, you swine,” one yelled, ripping the flask from the hand of the Felix damnatus, spilling some of its contents. Felix was apparently not winning any popularity contests among his new friends. That delighted me, and an image entered my thoughts: how he had hovered over me, pinned my hands to the mattress, and looked at me with an awful, greedy expression. Then I thought of the other girl. The one who’d not been so lucky. I didn’t know her and had probably never met her, at least not knowingly. And yet I still felt strongly connected to her.
I hadn’t had a plan when I started to follow those four idiots below—and, to be honest, I still didn’t have one. But I didn’t care. Four on one? Whatever. I just didn’t care. All that counted at this very moment was revenge and saving Jared. Each of these damnati groaning in the shade had done something horrible in his human life. They would pay for it.
Without thinking, I got up, lifted a football-sized boulder over my head, and flung it down hard against the skull of the damnatus who saw me first and was trying to get up. I heard a bone crack as it struck his temple. He fell, twitching, to the ground. The Felix damnatus quickly sprang to his feet and caught sight of me. He briefly struggled to regain his composure, until the one next to him pushed him in the back with an ax handle and growled, “What are you waiting for? Grab her! Or I’ll tell Morgana you let the dirty slut get away!”
The Felix damnatus froze for a moment—as if he were imagining what Morgana would do to him if he failed—then made up his mind. He pulled his scab-encrusted eyebrows t
ogether and came at me, bounding up to the rock ledge and charging me. It all happened so fast. I let him approach close enough that I could feel his foul breath in my face, then pulled out the blue dagger, thrust it straight into his heart, twisted the blade, and pulled it out again. I looked at him coldly, free of emotion. I stood there straight as a stick and watched him stagger backward, eyes and mouth wide open, unable to understand, clasping the gaping wound in his chest with both hands. Thick, dark blood flowed in streams through his fingers. He took another step back before tumbling down over the ledge. The dull sound of his impact was the last thing I heard before I ran.
I could hear the other two already coming after me.
I ran as fast as I could and disappeared into the dense forest as if it would render me invisible.
Why didn’t Enid give me a gun to bring along?
The two scarfaces quickly caught up, but then the first stumbled and pulled the other to the ground, which bought me a small lead.
“You idiot!” I heard one of them yell, enraged. There was a short scuffle. Soon they were after me again. And gaining. All of a sudden, something struck my head. I tripped, and my vision blurred as pain shot through my skull. My legs gave way, but before I fell, a damnatus caught up with me and rammed his fist into my head. The warm, metallic taste of blood filled my mouth. I coughed and spat. Through a veil of blood and tears, I noticed another blurred black cloak moving toward me. I shrank back, kicking and trying to get on my feet. I was so dizzy that it seemed as if the trees were spinning around me. The first damnatus kicked me forcefully in the ribs. The air escaped my lungs with a hiss. I gasped. My dagger went flying from my hand with another kick. By now my vision was too blurred to see much. Panic took hold of me. I had lost my only weapon. Hold it—no! There was also that Swiss army knife in my backpack! I pulled the backpack off my shoulder and ripped open the front zipper.
“What’s that supposed to be?” the damnatus said in a smug tone.
I frantically dug around inside the backpack until I felt the smooth finish of the knife handle. Then I quickly snapped the blade out—or at least that’s what I thought was going to happen. Instead, a shiny corkscrew appeared.
The damnatus gave out a ringing, raspy laugh, infuriating me so much my panic was instantly dispelled. I reached back as far as I could and rammed the corkscrew with full force into the stinking scarface’s thigh. He stopped in his tracks.
“Ow—you cunt!” he screamed, turning in circles on one leg as he attempted to pull the corkscrew from his flesh. He finally got hold of the shiny red handle and pulled the coil out. A hideous foul liquid bubbled forth from the wound.
He briefly looked at the corkscrew, to which bits of his flesh still clung, and then turned to me.
“I’m gonna shove this up your arse,” he croaked, then slowly walked toward me, obviously relishing the prospect.
The second damnatus had also almost reached me. A rotten grin spread across his face as he approached.
I retreated, flailing all the while, and had almost managed to get to my feet when the damnatus struck me in the chest and sent me sprawling into the dirt again. Would they kill me now? Or torture me and take me to Morgana for her to finish me off? And make Jared watch. My eyes filled with tears. The pain in my head was unbearable.
I’m so sorry, Jared! I’ve failed you.
Suddenly I noticed a lean, black shape approaching from the side, crouching like a silent shadow. Another damnatus? No, this creature moved far too gracefully. Without warning, it leaped on the damnatus farthest away from me. In one smooth motion, the massive black creature tore him to the ground. I heard a wild growl, followed immediately by the death rattle of a ripped-out throat.
The damnatus who’d been about to finish me off glanced, terrified, over his shoulder. His legs shook with fear as this creature, lean as a panther and yet massive as a bear, moved toward him with grace and confidence. The damnatus could do nothing more than tremble and watch as the predator approached for the kill.
“A barghest? In broad daylight?” he stammered in disbelief.
The animal leaped again. In a lightning-fast, smooth motion, the bear-like cat buried its powerful claws in the flank of the damnatus and ripped his head off with razor-sharp teeth. It happened so fast the scarface didn’t have a chance for a last cry. The creature—the barghest?—spat out the remains of the stinking skull in disgust. Then it came toward me, uttering a rumbling growl from deep within. I stood frozen. It stopped before me and gave me a penetrating stare with its golden-red eyes for a second, two at most, before turning and disappearing with a graceful bound into the depths of the forest. I fainted.
I woke with a pounding headache. How much time had passed? I was so exhausted that I just lay there until I could no longer bear the stench of the damnatus corpses. I tried to get up, but my legs gave way, and I collapsed again. My head felt like it was going to burst. I massaged my temples, then crawled across the ground and collected the dagger and Swiss army knife. I nearly fainted with every movement, but I somehow stayed conscious. Water! I need water!
I heard quiet splashing nearby.
If I can only get there . . .
It took all my remaining strength to crawl on my hands and knees to a small stream in the soothing shade. First, I put my hands into the cool water. Then I greedily drank. Finally, I dunked my head and remained under water until my temples stopped throbbing and the warm, metallic taste of my own blood had washed from my mouth. The pain relented. Thank goodness, it relented. Glancing in all directions, I stripped down to my underwear and slid into the water. It felt so good and immediately helped, as though it was washing away my pain. My muscles began to relax, the dull pounding in my head and ribs disappeared, and my swollen hands and feet shrank to their normal size. I moaned, relieved. The effect water had on me here was nothing new, but I was sure this water was healing my injuries faster and better than ever before.
For a long time, I simply lay in the stream, closed my eyes, let the water flow over my body, and healed.
It was dusk when I opened my eyes again. Had I fallen asleep? I hastily climbed out of the water, dressed, and nervously looked about. I’d already had a taste of what might be lurking behind the trees, and, to be honest, I wasn’t eager to find out what else was concealed in the darkness of the forest. But . . . was I really in danger? The black panther-like creature—what had the damnatus called it? Barghest?—had spared me. No, not just spared me. It had killed the damnati, and so . . . saved my life. Was Ruth right? Were the creatures here in Avalon really on my side? I wasn’t sure if this was the moment to put the theory to the test. Better to find a resting place for the night and wait for the next day. Could Jared wait? Would he last through the night?
Darkness was closing in, making me feel less and less comfortable. I was also incredibly hungry. I had eaten nothing all day except for the ultra-sweet protein bar, which had almost made me sick, and an apple. I walked upstream along the bank for about half an hour. Straining, I stopped and listened to the forest. Nothing. Not a peep. Still, I didn’t want to see what creatures were hidden in the growth, and wandering around in the dark was certainly not a good idea. Reluctantly, I found a hidden place under a willow with low-hanging branches and went about making camp for the night. The pop-up tent Colin had packed did honor to its name. Setting it up, with one motion of the hand, was child’s play. After looking around once more, I crawled in, pulled the zipper shut, ate an apple, curled up, and placed my head on the backpack. It was uncomfortable. I was lying on top of something hard and flat. The book! I awkwardly pulled the volume out of my backpack, turned on the flashlight, and flipped through the pages until I found a picture of a black creature that was part panther, part dog.
The barghest (also bargtjest or bargest) is a mythical golden-eyed creature with monstrous claws and razor-sharp fangs. Swift as a panther, enduring as a wolf, and strong as a bear, it is a malicious example of the “black dogs.” Its name is of uncertain origin.
According to some sources, the name is derived from the German Berggeist, or mountain spirit. But “bear ghost” has also been suggested. The barghest is a native of the high plains of Avalon and only appears at dusk. It is an omen of death.
I swallowed and turned the page.
The behemoth, I read next, and brushed my fingers over a picture of a gigantic, armored primeval creature that looked like a cross between a hippopotamus and an armadillo. The description made the behemoth seem like a rather peaceful soul, although it could level entire villages when it felt itself or its young threatened. The thought of meeting such a colossus was frightening.
I turned the page to encounter another inhabitant of Avalon:
The kelpie (or kelpy) is a supernatural water spirit that inhabits both the innumerable lakes and rivers of Avalon and the flowing waters of the Scottish Highlands. It has the appearance of a large horse with a fish tail. It can be found near deep rivers and promises travelers that it will carry them across the river. If the traveler consents, the kelpie drags him to the depths to be devoured.
Wow. Those were lovely prospects. Malicious barghests, trampling behemoths, devious kelpies . . . I continued to read on and glanced over the next few pages. Goblins—ill-tempered, trap-setting imps living underground . . . Pixies—small, winged, and blue-skinned, prone to mischievous pranks . . . something for every taste. Were there any nice creatures here?
Tired and somewhat disconcerted by what I’d read, I shut the book. Jared’s face was the last thing I thought of before falling asleep. Hang in there! I love you!
Shortly before sunrise, I pulled open the zipper and crawled out of the tent. I stretched my stiff limbs in all directions, like a cat. Then I gathered my things. It was a challenge, pushing that damned tent back into its original shape, but I managed. It was dawn when I set on my way along the stream. I followed it until I arrived at a spot wide enough to wash myself. As I brushed my teeth, I wondered where the water came from. The damnati I had wanted to follow wouldn’t be going anywhere now, so maybe I should try my luck with this stream. I followed the gurgling water toward the source. Was I mistaken? Hadn’t I seen this place before? A stream, a mountain, a cave . . . a tree underground . . . the . . . the source? I couldn’t remember. Yet from deep inside came the calming feeling that I was on the right path.
