The creature emitted a strangled screech and the teeth of the holder speared clean through it, buckling its back before bursting out the other side.
Diltraa gasped and gagged, floundering across the floor. It writhed like a stranded fish.
Jessica hurried to Isabel’s side, dodging the demon’s flailing limbs.
“Isabel, are you okay?” she panted.
Isabel took Jessica’s hand and nodded, attempting to catch her breath.
“I knew you had it in you,” she coughed.
Together they watched the demon crush itself into the corner, curling its limbs up like a dying spider. Black blood spilled across the floorboards and Diltraa thrashed its elongated limbs, squirming in agony.
“Not so easily…” it crowed, “…shall I leave this world.” The creature fixed its scorching gaze on Jessica and rasped: “You!”
As Jessica stared into those bottomless pits, she felt her own will shrivel into nothingness, only to be replaced with a spearing determination.
“NOW!” Diltraa shrieked. It let loose a guttural hoot.
The girl moved like a puppet, reaching out for Isabel’s throat.
“Jessica,” Isabel cried, “what are you doing?”
Jessica’s hands wrapped about Isabel’s neck.
“Stop,” Isabel choked. “Jessica, no!”
But Jessica had no control over her actions. She squeezed tighter, clamping the crone’s shrivelled neck between her hands.
Isabel gripped Jessica’s arms in vain, tried to prise her hands free, but it was futile. She scratched at the girl’s skin, but Jessica didn’t even flinch. With cold detachment, she wrung the old woman’s neck and Diltraa gargled with glee until, finally, the demon perished in a pool of its own putrid blood.
Only then did Jessica return to her senses.
Too late, she realised what she had done.
*
“Diltraa...” Jessica spluttered. “I–I killed you.”
Beside her, Nicholas looked confused, still clutching the Drujblade in readiness.
The demon called Diltraa cackled.
“Where do you suppose a demon goes when it dies?” the creature rasped scornfully. “That is why Man will never prevail. Knock us down, destroy us, and we’ll keep clawing our way back out of Hell. Surrender now, Sentinel pig.”
“NO!” Nicholas shouted. He grabbed Jessica by the arm, this time protectively, and wielded the Drujblade in front of him. “Stay back!” he cried.
The demon stared down at him reproachfully.
“Boy,” it rasped. “Your bravery is admirable, but you’re on the wrong side of this battle.”
Nicholas began to back away from the monster, pulling Jessica with him. Diltraa threw out a sinewy limb to stop them, razor-like claws slicing for their necks. Instinctively, Nicholas jabbed out with the blade and golden sparks erupted where the bone dagger sliced into the demon’s flesh.
Diltraa howled, enraged, and arched away from the weapon. Nicholas seized his moment and turned, dragging Jessica away through the garden. They disappeared into the undergrowth.
“Malika!” Diltraa’s gurgling voice rang out behind him. “Find them!”
“Come on,” Nicholas urged, charging through the garden with Jessica, batting massive leaves out of the way as he pulled the woman after him. He pushed deeper and deeper into the garden, further than he’d been before, losing himself in the greenery. Only when he couldn’t run anymore did he stop. They hid within the sheltering bows of a willow tree, which rested at the lip of a large pond.
“Jessica, what are we going to do?” Nicholas panted.
The woman turned away from him.
“Jessica!” Nicholas persisted. “You know what that thing is, don’t you? What are we going to do? How can we stop it?”
“I can’t,” Jessica whispered. “I can’t stop it. It’s too powerful.”
Nicholas pulled her round to face him. “That’s rubbish!” he said in a low hiss.
“You’ve faced things like that before, I know you have. We have to fight it. We can’t just give in.”
But that’s exactly what it looked like Jessica wanted to do.
“I’m so tired,” she said, her hair falling across her face. She broke free of the boy’s grip and trudged over to where the willow’s slender branches hung like a curtain to the garden floor. She brushed her hands over the leaves.
There came the distant sound of trees being torn from the ground and a bleak howl tore through the garden.
Malika’s euphoric chuckles echoed somewhere.
“Nicholas!” she called mockingly. “I’ve got a message from mummy! Don’t you want to know what it is?”
She sounded close.
Nicholas ignored her and stared down at the dagger in his hand. The Drujblade. Isabel had said it was a formidable weapon; it had slain “many fell beasts”, in her words. Diltraa certainly hadn’t liked it very much. The boy looked over at Jessica and knew it was up to him.
He had to kill the monster himself.
“Stay here,” he murmured to her.
The woman didn’t seem to hear him.
“Oh Norlath,” she hummed quietly, still playing with the tree’s leaves.
Nicholas parted the vine-like branches of the willow tree and looked out into the garden. All was peaceful. The wide pond reflected an upside-down version of the world, blossoms spinning and twirling across its mirror-like surface.
The boy stepped out from the tree’s protective umbrella and picked his way between the tree trunks.
In the evening gloom, it was difficult to see the ground, so he treaded carefully, mindful of the twigs underfoot, which might reveal his whereabouts to the monster.
Had the situation been less treacherous, he’d be deliberating over what Jessica had said about the village and his birth. He was so focussed, though, that such troubling revelations didn’t bother him. The boy skulked onward, ready for anything.
At last he was back in the clearing near the door, where the flowers pooled across the ground in multicoloured congregations. There was no sign of the beast.
“Boy,” purred a voice.
Nicholas spun around and found himself face to face with Malika.
“Are you certain this is the path for you?” she entreated softly. “There are such wonders in the world, such sensations I long to share with you.”
The boy stared into the dazzling depths of her eyes, saw magic spark and shimmer there. Now, though, he was immune to her seductive charms. She had exploited his private pain. His anger was still fresh.
Nicholas felt the hatred gather in his chest, smouldering heavily there. Somehow, he found himself reaching out from the place where the rage throbbed, stretching malevolently for the red-haired woman with his mind.
Before she had a chance to take a step toward him, Malika froze and seemed to realise that something was wrong. An invisible, spiking shard pierced the front of her skull and suddenly something was groping around inside.
Nicholas didn’t know what he was doing, but it felt as natural as breathing. He strained against the defences of the woman’s mind, easily swept them aside and unlocked the mysteries twitching there. He saw men and women falling at Malika’s feet, felt her pride and arrogance as she cut them down, slashed their throats and left them naked in the rain. Her laughter echoed in his head, but separate from him, something he could control.
The boy pushed deeper, and there she was, in a car with a man. A waiter. He was drunk, driving erratically, buoyed by her presence, whooping as she nibbled on his ear and whispered tenderly to him. Then the car ran off the road and into the countryside. Suddenly it was on a rail track, bouncing fitfully over the tracks before screeching to a halt. Malika dug her claws into the waiter’s throat and tossed him over the bridge into the water below. Then she watched from the shadows as a train ploughed into the car, and hundreds of souls plunged to their deaths, wailing as they fell.
“You killed them,” Nicholas gasped
. “You put the car there.”
Malika was on her knees now, bent awkwardly on the ground, her hands buried in her snake-like hair.
Nicholas couldn’t stop. Fury drove him and the boy dug ferociously into Malika’s mind. It was wartime. Great fires raged as planes whirred overhead. Then they were in a market square. A man was being hanged, but before he dropped through the trapdoor, he looked at Malika with accusatory eyes. Now, inexplicably, they were back in the pentagon room, the very room that Nicholas had been in this evening. Except this wasn’t a memory from today. It was older. Malika was shivering naked in the corner of the room, scared and confused…
Surprised by this last image, Nicholas jerked away, releasing his hold on the woman.
“What…? What did you…?” Malika garbled. She let out a tortured cry, scrambled to her feet and fled the garden.
Nicholas couldn’t believe what he’d seen. That woman. Malika. She had been responsible for his parents’ deaths. She had orchestrated the train wreck and watched gleefully as every person onboard perished. For weeks now, the authorities had been clueless – and now he knew the truth.
“Nicholas!” came a voice, and the boy whirled around to see Isabel bounding across the grass toward him.
“You’re alright,” the cat shouted happily. Behind her, a dark shadow swept into the garden. Nicholas recognised the glinting silver mask that belonged to Esus.
“Child,” the figure boomed. “Much has happened this night. Never before have these walls been breached. We must act fast.”
“Where did he come from?” Nicholas asked Isabel, eyeing the masked figure distrustfully.
“Esus killed Garm,” the cat explained. “He’s come to help. Where is Jessica?”
A scream rang out across the garden.
“Jessica!” Nicholas cried. Without thinking, he hastened back into the garden, bolting through the undergrowth toward that pitiful sound.
“Nicholas, wait!” Isabel’s voice called out after him, but Nicholas didn’t hear it. He rushed between the trees, swiping plants out of the way and leaping over fallen logs. The garden had been devastated by Diltraa. The demon had taken its insatiable rage out on just about every plant that Nicholas passed, and the garden was in tatters, shredded beyond recognition.
Another scream sounded and Nicholas quickened his pace, bounding through the shrubbery. For some reason, Jessica felt like his responsibility. Not half an hour ago he’d held a knife to her throat and was going to kill her. Perhaps it was guilt driving him – he had to atone for what he’d done to her while under Malika’s influence. But he’d seen a different side to Jessica tonight, as well. She was wise and old, but fragile, too. She needed protecting.
The boy hurried back to where he’d left Jessica and skidded to a halt in the dirt. The willow tree had been ripped to pieces. Its earth-caked roots lay exposed and there was the demon, clutching Jessica in its claws, holding her off the ground.
“Tell me!” Diltraa burbled. “Tell me where the Trinity are!”
The creature’s hideousness struck Nicholas anew and his inner resolve weakened. The monster’s ribs strained against the thin, rough skin that encased its towering frame and it was huge, its stretched limbs spider-like. The stink of charred flesh hung in the air.
Seeing the look of panic on Jessica’s face, Nicholas clenched his teeth.
“Hey!” he yelled.
The demon’s eyes wheeled in the boy’s direction, set in the centre of that bony, low-browed face.
“If I was that ugly I’d be angry too!”
Diltraa snarled in annoyance at the interruption and hurled Jessica to the ground. It rounded on Nicholas.
The demon’s insect-like limbs carried it to the boy with horrific speed and Nicholas struck out with the Drujblade as the creature’s shadow loomed over him. Diltraa crowed wickedly, dodging the blow and slammed a barbarous arm into the boy’s chest.
With a cry, Nicholas went hurtling through the air. He landed with a great splash in the pond.
The demon returned its attention to Jessica.
“Tell me!” it bellowed, and Jessica threw her hands to her ears at the terrible sound, squatting on the ground. “Pitiful worm, writhing in the mud! No wonder the cracks are opening up like great sores, no wonder the Sentinels are being trampled like bugs. Pathetic whelp!”
“Jessica Bell!” an aged voice shrieked. “What on Earth are you doing?”
As he clambered out of the pond, Nicholas saw Isabel hurry up to Jessica.
Startled, Jessica slowly unclamped her hands from her ears.
“Isabel,” she whimpered.
The cat nudged at her with one of its front paws, its tiny feline features bunched up into a furry frown.
“You’re not going to let that bag of bones talk to you like that, are you?” Isabel demanded, her golden eyes flashing up at the demon. “We’ve defeated it once, we’ll damn well do it again!”
Nicholas watched as Jessica slowly began to rise from the ground. She seemed to have discovered some hidden strength within. As if refusing to bend to the demon’s insidious will, she pulled herself to her feet and stared defiantly into the repugnant creature’s face.
“Time has passed, demon,” she said, a cold self-assurance replacing the fear that she had surrendered to. “Much has changed. The Trinity sleep and they will never awaken to the sounds of your callous tones. They are safe, hidden from the world. You’ll never know of their whereabouts, nor will they know of you.”
Frenzy boiling in its eyes, Diltraa made to lunge for the woman, but a sharp pain made the demon shriek out instead.
Nicholas had sunk the Drujblade into the demon’s bony leg. Golden sparks spewed from that spot as the magic blade dug into the demon’s flesh.
Diltraa lashed out, its cloven hoof striking Nicholas in the chest. The boy hit the ground, then clambered to his feet again and doggedly seized the blade’s handle, wrenching it free. He stabbed the creature again, black blood spurting from the wound.
Diltraa emitted a horrific yowl and struck out with his front claws, swiping at the boy. Nicholas dodged out of the way. Raising the blade again, he sliced off one of the looming claws. It landed on the ground with a thud, still twitching, dark blood oozing around it.
“That’s it!” Isabel whooped. “Get him, boy! Cut the foul beast down to size!”
As the demon shrieked in agony, Nicholas flew at it again, hacking and slashing with the Drujblade, gold sparks dancing about him. Gory sores opened up in the beast’s torso and the boy was showered in sticky black blood.
“DIE!” Diltraa howled, striking out with its remaining claw.
Nicholas flew through the air and hit a tree trunk, the back of his head cracking dully against the tough bark. Unsteady, his skull throbbing, he slumped to the ground. What happened next all flickered before his drooping eyelids in a blur.
Esus swept in front of him, his black robes billowing.
“The knife,” the masked figure hissed, and though it took a great deal of effort, Nicholas raised his bloodied hand and offered up the Drujblade.
Snatching the dagger from him, Esus darted over to the beast that was Diltraa and mounted it, scaling those gangly limbs like they were footholds on a mountainside. Nicholas’s eyes closed heavily and the next thing he saw was Esus slamming the Drujblade into the back of the demon’s neck and twisting ferociously. Then he seized the horned cranium with his gloved hands and tore it clean off.
The dismembered head squelched to the ground, the tongue lolling from its mouth, and Esus rode the collapsing demon’s frame until it, too, struck the earth.
“Nicholas,” Isabel cried, rushing to his side. She pawed at his leg, licking his hand before she could stop herself.
“I’m just going to… lie here for a moment,” Nicholas murmured.
Then he slumped into unconsciousness.
*
Nicholas was in bed. As he’d rolled in and out of wakefulness, Jessica had treated his wounds, washed a
way the demon blood and helped him under the covers. The fight was over. They had won. Tomorrow was going to be a busy day. The boy’s dreams would be far from peaceful tonight.
At the doorway, Jessica watched until she was sure he was asleep.
When she saw that his eyes were moving slowly behind the lids, she stepped into the room, sidling up to the bed.
“He fought well.”
A deep rumble of a voice.
Jessica looked over to the open window. There, in a dark corner of the room, was Esus.
She nodded.
“There is much for him to learn,” the shadow said. “You will begin training at once.”
“Yes,” Jessica said. “He is ready.”
Esus made no reply.
In a swirl of black radiance his robed body buckled and became smoke. Feathers sprouted out of nowhere and from the dark cloud a raven flew to the windowsill. The bird Esus squawked then flitted from the window, disappearing into the night.
Jessica returned her attention to the sleeping figure in the bed. A secretive smile on her lips, she placed a book at the boy’s bedside. On its spine, silver letters caught the light: The Sentinel Chronicles – August 1997. Pausing a moment to stroke the boy’s hair, she went to the door.
Curled up at Nicholas’s side, Isabel heaved a deep sigh and purred proudly.
Outside, great storm clouds split open and the rain began to fall.
EPILOGUE
FOR NOW, SHE SLEPT. SHE KNEW nothing of all that had occurred mere miles away. Her dreams passed unblemished by any notion of the horror that was carefully, watchfully feeling its way into the world. She knew nothing of the Sentinels, nor the Harvesters, nor of the forces that even now were seeking her out in the black of night. Seconds, hours, days, weeks. All mere heartbeats. They would find her, and she would know nothing of their coming. For now, peacefully, she slept.
The Sentinels will return in Ruins.
Table of Contents
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER ONE - Alone
Sentinel: Book One of The Sentinel Trilogy Page 28
