The Last Summoning---Andrew and the Quest of Orion's Belt (Book Four)
Page 31
“Run!” Andrew cried, standing in front of his friends. “Run!”
But his friends dared not move. They stood where they were, petrified by fear.
Andrew drew his sword, and stood at the edge of the pit, facing the demon. The sword’s light was dim. It felt strangely ordinary, like any other sword. Yet he knew there was still power in it. Ivory, he, Freddie, and even Croffin were with him. Their strong, true hearts were far more powerful than a dozen luke-warm souls.
The great half-embodied shadow spit and snapped, crawling up over the edge of the pit towards Andrew, sending heat and oil spraying through the air. Andrew slashed his sword at the creature, swiping it across the nose. It cried out, coming back at him with heated vengeance. It lifted its oily wings and heaved its heavy body into the air, dripping oil that smelled of darkness, all over Andrew.
A sickening feeling of vulnerability washed over Andrew. The beast was not afraid of him. It was unafraid of his sword. Billows of smoke started rising from its mouth and nose. Its eyes burned inside its shadowy form, full of an all-consuming hunger. It opened its mouth sending a spray of shadow and oil over Andrew.
“Ahhh!” Andrew cried, teetering over the edge of the pit, with his friends, hiding his face from the onslaught of oil.
The creature rose up into the air, scooping up hosts of squirming shadows into his huge mouth, growing bigger and bigger with each gulp, so that the sky was completely shrouded in its own shadow.
Andrew felt very small before this sheet of darkness. Fear, subtle and deep, pricked him like a powerful frost, eclipsing the courage he wished he had. The sword’s light was no match for the covering of darkness that loomed over him.
“Ahhhhkkkk!” The creature cried, thumping its wings against one another in an earth-shattering crack. The sound was so loud, and powerful, it sent Andrew and his friends tumbling into the bubbling pit of oil.
Oil, thick, and hot swirled around Andrew. It bubbled up around him, pulling him down. He struggled against the sticky liquid, looking around for his friends. He could see, Freddie and Croffin clutching onto the side of the pit. But Ivory had vanished. “Ivory!” he cried, gagging on the bitter tasting oil. “Ivory!”
“Andrew,” Ivory cried, bursting up from the oil. “I can’t swim here. It’s pulling me down. Help!”
Andrew grabbed Ivory, and struggled to keep her afloat.
“It’s going to burn us alive!” Croffin shrieked, pointing above them at the shadow twisting and churning over the pit of like a boiling cyclone that was putting out feelers towards earth.
“Down! Down Labyrinth,” a powerful voice above them suddenly commanded. “LABYRIINTH! OBEY ME!”
The winged beast howled, belching out embers of half-consumed shadows, then reluctantly settled itself on the edge of the pit, peering at them with fiery eyes.
The sound of scuffling feet and labored, wheezy breathing was heard as dozens of dark forms stared down at them.
“Help us,” Andrew called, “Please!”
Loud, chopping cackles echoed above them. “ka, ha, ha, kac, cah, ha!”
“Labyrinth,” one of the creatures then said, “You heard them. They need help.”
In a single moment, a loud rushing sound crashed in around them as the winged creature coughed out a great shower of recycled shadows that had been turned to coal. The coal fell into the pit covering Andrew and his friends in layers of the dark matter.
For a moment Andrew thought he’d been suffocated. All went utterly black. He reached out, struggling against the oil, and coal. He grasped onto the hard rock-like lumps, pulling both himself, and Ivory up through the coal, now mixed together with oil. Gradually, they worked their way through the coal, and lay on top of their would-be grave, gulping in air. Andrew could feel the oil, and coal sticking to his skin as if he had become a shadow himself.
“Freddie? Croffin?” Andrew called out, clambering through the pit of coal. “Where are you?”
“Over here,” Freddie wheezed. “We’re…both okay. I guess.” “Good!” A loud, snapping voice called above them. “We want the boy alive!”
Andrew stared above him. Looming around the pit were the most curious-looking creatures. The figures were tall and strong. Their faces, though in shadow, were illuminated by their dark skin that glowed a somber gray-blue. They had long, black stripes across their faces, like iron bars fencing their faces in. The whites of their eyes glowed brilliant silver, through unblinking eyes that never closed.
“Labyrinth, good boy,” one of the tall figures said, patting the oily, winged creature on its nose. “Good boy. You have done very well today.” The being’s voice scraped out like a knife, sharp and jagged. Then turning its eyes to the figures in the pit, the being leaned over the edge, and studied Andrew and his friends with unblinking eyes. “Thought you could travel here unseen, unmarked? Thought you could just walk into our realm unnoticed? Oh, foolish brats, how little you know. Ha, ka, cah, cah! Here, nothing goes undetected. Oh, my master will be pleased, very pleased.” It breathed in and out, excitedly, its throat ridden with phlegm.
“Tell your master he must come and get us himself!” Andrew shouted back.
The creature stared at Andrew, unmoving. Its wide eyes glowed out at him like two trapped beams of light. “Us? Our master wants only one of you,” the creature growled. “Just the boy with the diamond mark in his hands. Just him. Just him. The rest will go free, free! Give him to us. GIVE HIM TO US! We are the Codes. We are the Codes and we know all. We see all. We hear all. We know you are down there. We know! If you give him to us, we will spare the others. We will give you five minutes. Five minutes to decide what you will do. If the boy does not surrender, then we are coming down after you to kill all who do not match the description. It is the boy we want. The boy!”
Andrew set his jaw, and pulled himself up, brushing off bits of coal that stuck to his skin. He glanced at his friends lying weak and miserable on the coal. Their bodies were black, and their skin coated in coal and oil. Croffin’s oil-stained fur made him look like a bedraggled rat. They were in no condition to fight.
He had to go. It was time. He stepped in front of his friends, but Freddie placed his hand on Andrew to stop him.
“Wait, Andrew,” Freddie whispered, pointing to the creature Codes above them. “You mustn’t. Not like this.”
Andrew pushed passed Freddie. “Why mustn’t I?”
Freddie grabbed Andrew and pulled him back. “Stop. You’re not thinking clearly.
Andrew shook his head. “No. Freddie. You don’t understand. This is what I should have done a long time ago.”
Freddie moved in front of Andrew. “No. Andrew. I can’t let you go.”
“Then, what else are we to do?”
“Let them take me?”
“What?” Andrew’s eyes filled with fire. “Are you out of your mind?”
“No, Andrew, I’m not.”
“But they want me, not you.”
Freddie’s face filled with noble defiance. He opened his palms, and looked up at Andrew. A subtle smile appeared on his face. Etched into his greasy palms were the scars he had acquired from saving Andrew from falling to his death on the Towers of the Floating City. The scars burned into his palms were identical to the diamond marks in Andrew’s hands. The only difference was that they were not as smooth, and they did not glow or shimmer.
Darkness flooded Andrew’s eyes. He stepped away from Freddie, and shook his head. “No! Freddie,” he hissed. “I won’t let you do it. They are just scars. They’ll never buy it. Especially since you don’t have the sword. ”
Freddie ran his fingers along the marks in his hands. “Scars that now have purpose. Once those beasts see them, they won’t know the difference. We all look the same all covered in oil. They will believe me, at least long enough for you to escape.”
“I won’t let you Freddie. Once they find out you’re not me, they’ll torture you. They’ll try to get you tell what you know. I won’t let that ha
ppen, Freddie. I’ll die first. Do you think I value our friendship so little?”
Freddie’s face grew serious. His eyes were wide and his voice shook with emotion. “Andrew, you have always known your purpose. Now I finally know mine. I don’t care what they do to me.”
“NO!” Andrew shouted, shoving Freddie away from him. “I won’t let you or anyone else die because of me. Now, let me go, Freddie.”
“What’s going on down there?” The Codes snapped. “Hurry up and decide before we come down there and decide for you!”
A deadly silence followed. Andrew’s gaze went from Freddie, to Ivory then to Croffin. He set his jaw, his eyes filling with resolve. “I’m leaving. That’s the end of it! Goodbye.”
“Why do you have to be so stubborn!” Freddie barked, grabbing Andrew and throwing him down. Before Andrew could get up, Freddie landed on top of him, pinning him against the ground. Coal tumbled and rolled, shifting and spilling in around Andrew.
“Get off me!” Andrew growled, struggling against his friend.
“No!” Freddie pressed Andrew’s face into a mound of coal. “I won’t. I’ve always been heavier than you Andrew. You’re not going to get me off of you, unless you let me decide to do the brave thing for once.”
Andrew heaved in anger, struggling harder “No! Freddie. Never! Freddie get off me or so help me I’ll…”
“You’ll what? Turn me into a tree? Then what? A lot of good that will do.”
Andrew smiled weakly. “Don’t give me ideas. I just might consider it. Now let me go!”
Freddie pressed him harder, squeezing his throat. “No, Andrew. I can’t do that.”
Andrew squirmed, and grunted heaving against Freddie’s weight. “Ivory,” he called. “Get Freddie off me. Now!”
Ivory loomed over them, her eyes wide. Her lower lip trembled. But she spoke not a word.
“Ivory!” Andrew shouted.
Ivory remained silent, her eyes gleaming in the darkness.
Andrew pushed against Freddie, crying out in anger. “I can’t believe this. Croffin, you are the only one left. Now talk some sense into them. Freddie’s idea is terrible. Awful. I won’t let him do it!”
“That’s not your decision anymore,” Freddie cried. “It’s mine to make. Not yours.”
“Freddie, I warn you. If I have to use my sword and fight you, I will.”
“No!” Freddie shouted, pressing Andrew down. “You have always been like a blood-brother to me. Now let me do this last thing. Andrew we will all die in some way, sooner or later, and this is the way I choose.” He gazed at Andrew with sad eyes and brought the sword’s handle down against Andrew’s head, with a sickening thud.
Pain shot through Andrew’s skull. He groaned, his vision blurring. He stopped struggling and slowly felt himself slipping into unconsciousness.
Freddie backed away from Andrew’s limp body, his eyes filling with horror at what he’d just done.
“What’s going on down there!” the Codes chanted, staring down into the dark pit, seeing Freddie’s outline as he stood up. “The boy! The boy! Give yourself up, and your friends will go free, free!”
Freddie turned to Ivory, his eyes pleading for understanding. He moved his lips to speak, but no words came out.
“It is time!” the Codes chanted. “Give yourself up!”
Andrew groaned and tried to move, but Freddie was too quick. He whacked Andrew once more.
Thud.
Andrew fell back down, completely unconscious.
“Goodbye,” he whispered, slowly trudging up the crumbly coal pit with raised arms. “I’m the one you seek. I’m the boy.”
When Freddie was within a few feet of the Codes, they pounced on him like vultures. “Check him. Check his hands. Does he bear the mark?”
They held Freddie’s arms outstretched and pried his palms open. “The mark!” they cried. “It is he! Take him, take him! The sword, where is the sword?”
Freddie quickly produced his own battered sword.
“The sword!” The Codes chanted, shrinking. “The sword. It is dark. What is wrong with it? Why does it not bear light?”
Freddie tossed it onto the ground. “Take it. It is powerless here. There is no one to keep it alive. Men’s hearts have grown too dark to light its blade.”
“Yes,” the Codes cackled. “That is true. True. There is no more light. All will soon be dark.” They quickly snatched up Freddie’s sword, screeching and howling like moonstruck wolves. “Yes. We have him. WE HAVE THE BOY. WE HAVE THE SWORD. Yet, we are in need of someone else. Get the girl, yes. Take her too. Leave the others. Just the girl. We must be certain that the boy will not run away. ”
The Codes swarmed into the pit, cackling and snapping. Ivory screamed as they brought her up, and thrust her next to Freddie.
Freddie struggled against the Codes. His face filled with anger. “You said you’d let the others go free.”
“Yes,” one of the Codes breathed. “We did say that. Now we will unsay it. The girl comes too!”
“No!” Freddie roared, puling against the Code’s strong grip. “Let her go!”
Chapter Thirty-two
Following the scent
The morning was fresh, and chilly. The clouds that had gathered during the night had dissipated. The sky was blue as if it too was shivering. The sun shone down on the thick frost, causing the ground to shine like garlands of crystals sprinkled over it.
The ancient land that had felt old and wise during the evening still felt ancient in the daytime. Gogindy had somehow concluded that the land would have felt new in the morning.
But old things are still old even in the morning. The land yawned, and groaned, and heaved like an old horse. Its joints were old, and its dirt was thick and hard. It seemed reluctant to get out of bed, afraid of the thick frost that had covered it during its slumber.
Its unshaven scruffy gray grasses protruded in thick clumps around decaying buildings, piles of brick, and random pillars that stood alone with nothing to hold up but the sky. Piles of soggy leaves hugged the edges of these broken stone structures as if trying to keep them from falling down altogether.
Gogindy trudged through this ancient place, wondering what it had once looked like when the city had been new and the road well-traveled and busy. What kind of people had once lived there? Why had the city crumbled to pieces? He imagined children greeting him, laughing at his whiskers and offering him candy. But the thought quickly vanished as a cold wind blew through the land, tossing away his warm imaginings, replacing them with chilly thoughts. He sighed, and sniffed, stark reality blowing him in the face. Yes. The city was dead. The houses were nothing but piles of brick and stone---they were now just homes for snakes and beetles. No children were coming to meet him. Where he was going probably wasn’t as grand as he’d first supposed. No one would be there to watch him wake the bell---to ring it. He would have to do it alone. His eyes filled with tears at the thought. Alone. How awful. To do, and be something so incredibly important, and have no one to see or know of it. How would anyone know he was not the same silly Twisker as before? Things would never change. The more he thought about it, the more depressed he became.
“Rude wind,” he grumbled. “If it was up to me, I’d outlaw wind altogether. It’s nosey, and does not respect anyone. Such a vile thing should be locked in a cage and never let out.”
When he said those words, a distant memory of the time he and his friends had been put in the prisons of Morack flooded his mind. The terrible cramped feeling that he had then, washed over him. He stopped, and gracefully tipped his head at the wind. “Pardon my rudeness. I don’t suppose anything should be locked up altogether. I do enjoy a gentle breeze some of the time. I do think a free thing, such as the wind is, would die in a cramped, airless space. And that would make me very sad. And come to think of it, you wind, are much like myself. Free, and nosey, and a bit of a pest. So I guess I shan’t judge you so harshly. We are brothers, you and me. You, a wind, and me, a
whisker. You blow, and I sway. I suppose it would be fun to blow whiskers around. If I was you, I’d probably do it more often, and never stop.”
He smiled, and went on, somehow coming to terms with the chilly breeze. He moved through the city, hearing strange voices, but feeling unsure if they were voices inside his own head, or something real. The further into this ancient city he traveled, the stranger he began to feel. His heart beat wildly. His hands trembled. His heart swelled with an emotion that he could not explain. He was overcome with a great desire to keep moving. He scrambled through the city, peering into every open door, sniffing and then moving onward, following a scent of something he could not describe nor see, nor touch, only feel. It called to him like water calls to a dry throat, like apples cry to be plucked, like a baby longs to be rocked. It was urgent, incessant, pleading.
“Where are you!” he screamed, feeling his head spin with insanity. “I cannot find you!”
A strange, subtle creaking of an old door nearly falling off its hinge, caught his attention. It swayed with the wind, as if beckoning him through to the other side. Gogindy took a careful step towards the door. His ears, nose and fingers began to tingle and itch. His eyes widened. He did not know what this meant. Further he went, until he found himself through the swinging door, and on the other side, perched the side of a hill. He opened his mouth and gasped. His heart pattered against his chest. The tips of his fingers tingled and buzzed.