by Mark Bowsher
‘Sleep…’ Balthrir’s staff made gentle circles in the air. Krish began to slip away from the conscious world.
In an instant, a dream swooped in and took him…
CHAPTER 16
NIGHTMARE OF THE VULREIN
A snort … a muzzle lifts out of the dirt … looking ahead
… into the trees … eyes wide … an ecstasy of barking …
lean, muscular legs bounding through darkened woods …
*
Screaming … he was screaming
in the dark …
*
Their paws beat the ground … they were close … too close …
*
Screaming … she calls out … she calls
again … he doesn’t understand her words …
*
So close … the smell of putrid meat on their breath …
*
Her desperate whispers … Where?
Which direction? He points …
*
Their pace quietening … their quarry near …
*
The twine thrust into his hands … the mule
neighing, running from them … her tearing the
dead creature on the ground, scattering
flesh behind them as they run …
*
Some chewed the meat … others barked …
this was not their prey …
*
Running, running … hearts beating wild in their chests …
violent breaths … stumbling over branches … feet too close …
confused … fingers, his fingers, large as swollen branches …
*
They were on their scent again …
*
The swish of a blade … a shriek of pain across his arm,
his friend opening his vein … a faint attempt at reassurance
through stuttering breaths … her mixing his blood with
the meat … discarded on the ground …
*
Beasts tearing into the bloody flesh … swallowing
leaves and twigs and dirt stuck to that filthy mess …
*
Wading … rancid, stagnant water … her
commanding him to drench himself … her
hand on his wound …
*
The scent was cold …
they had had their fill …
for now …
*
Water so close, too close … feeling it at his
waist, seeing it up to his neck … he would drown! He was
lost! He’d die! Falling under the water, one eye above,
both below. No sense. What? What?! Help!
Deep, deep below. Drowning! Dying!
Fetid water pouring down his throat …
Her over him, shouting, shouting,
screaming, no sense.
Every mark, every scratch, every bead
of sweat on her skin so clear …
*
‘Open yer eyes!’
*
He swore she was calling to him in his dream and
in the real world all at once …
*
‘Krish! Open yer eyes! O-pen your—’
He jolted awake.
‘—eyes!’
He was lying in a shallow pond, no higher than his knees. Balthrir still hovered over him but she was a little farther away than she had been in his nightmare.
‘Where are they?’ she asked.
He looked into her eyes, confused, and she asked again.
‘I don’t know,’ he said.
‘Look.’
He looked roughly in the direction of where the dogs had been chewing the meat in his dream. But he saw nothing.
‘Look,’ she said. ‘Just for a moment…’
Then he realised. The smoke in his eyes. The grains of sand. The wind. That’s when he’d seen them. Hesitantly, he allowed his eyelids to slide over his eyes.
*
Across the forest … a clearing … dogs stood
over the carcass … One’s head shot a look in his
direction … snarling …
*
Krish opened his eyes with a gasp. Balthrir was looking expectantly at him.
‘There!’ he said. ‘Over there! One looked—’
‘It’s fine. The water will keep them off our scent for now. At least… well, it should do. We’d better move on. And keep yer eyes open.’
Krish looked up into her eyes, which were fearful, apologetic.
‘They’re real, aren’t they?’
She nodded.
‘But why—?’
‘The Vulrein,’ Balthrir interrupted. ‘The ones you saw at Old Margary’s weren’t real. It was a projection from the Malshrael. But the ones we just ran into were real.’
‘The Malshrael… what the hell—?’
‘Come on.’
‘What happened to the mule?’
‘Oh ’e’ll turn up. Always does.’
They gathered up their packs, struggling with the mule’s burden added to their load. After ten minutes they were forced to leave behind Balthrir’s magical bandages, a blanket and the largest of their three water flasks. Balthrir’s voice was weary as they walked.
‘Old Margary was bound to ’elp us in one way but that didn’t stop ’er ’oldin’ us up in another. Been a long time since the King was allowed to set ’unting dogs on the trail of the disloyal; there was almost revolt last time ’e used ’em! But ’e gets away with using the Vulrein. ’Ounds of air and shadow. Easy to deny that ’e’s ever set them on anyone when only the intended victim can see them. Never really know ’ow they find yer but they do. I mean, I’ve read about ’em but nobody really knows much about ’em. The King’s sendin’ ’em to ’unt yer down. To make sure you can never get a pearl from the Night Ocean, a feather from a FireHawk and tie a bow – sorry, pretty bow – round the world. Might not ’ave taken yer seriously before but ’e knows yer got Old Margary’s magic on yer side now. Real old school powerful magic. ’E must be ’avin’ second thoughts about yer. What did yer see? When yer looked into the Malshrael?’
‘Horrible, horrible shapes! Dogs! Their eyes—’
‘No, no, NO! What did you see first? When we’d just arrived?’
Krish tried to remember. For a moment he couldn’t get rid of the image of those malevolent eyes staring at him from out of the painting. But then his mind cleared and he remembered.
‘Nothing. Just… lines. Like a big grey cloud or something.’
Balthrir nodded. ‘Hm. Sounds right. A Malshrael is like a link to the King. Should ’ave spotted it! Those who are loyal and stuff don’t see a thing in the Malshrael, those who aren’t see the Vulrein. The King then unleashes the real Vulrein and they can hunt yer down, pickin’ up the scent every time yer eyes are shut, and that’s the only time yer can see ’em. From what I’ve ’eard, readin’ about it and stuff, yer vision is like, kinda… sharpened. Yer know? Yer see ’em even if they’re far away. Everything’s magnified. Even things right up in front of yer face.’
Suddenly so much made sense. Not just seeing the Vulrein when his eyes were closed but why they appeared so close. Why his fingers seemed so big. Why he thought he’d drown in what was little more than a puddle. Everything had been magnified.
‘But I didn’t see the Vulrein, not straight away, and I’m clearly not loyal to the King…’
‘That’s because Old Margary is a powerful sorceress. The Malshrael were all burnt, a long time ago, so they say, but she clearly kept ’old of one. She’s a big fan of that crowned old bleeder but she wouldn’t allow a Malshrael to do its work for that reason alone. No. What the Sheekarla ’ate is dishonesty. That lot could never lie. So she’s probably enchanted the bloody thing to alert the King if, and only if, you’re disloyal and dishonest. But a woman that old could never see ’ow furious the King would get at the idea that you’d be after his Myrthali. This ’as changed t
hings. ’Is Maj knows y’er a serious threat now.’
‘Me…?’ Krish looked over at Balthrir. She looked back with a sigh in her eyes.
‘Oh yeah… we.’ A long sigh, her eyes appearing to deepen with sudden hopelessness. ‘Bang goes my chance of a job for the old codger,’ his wizard friend muttered.
‘Balthrir, I just don’t understand why you’d want to work for the man who has your parents impris—’
‘Oh, because ’e ’as my parents imprisoned! It’s not just that it’s the only job I could actually make a decent living off of using magic. It’s because yer get one wish that the King has to grant. As long as it’s not unreasonable. Yer know, like “Can I be King instead of you?” Obviously that wouldn’t fly. But ’e does release prisoners. Might ’ave to come up with some new law if too many ask for prisoners to be released, but ’e loves creating new laws.’
‘Sounds like a pretty nasty boss.’
‘Ha! There are worse. At least ’e appreciates magic.’
‘You miss your parents?’
Balthrir stared at her feet, leaving one of those awful silences that Krish was coming to hate. He changed the subject.
‘So… every time I shut my eyes… they’ll be there?’
‘Uh-huh.’
‘So, they’re just over there?’
‘Yes. But they can’t ’arm us. They can’t even find you while yer eyes are open. Not that they can’t keep ’eadin’ in our direction. Think they’ve lost us at the moment. But every time they’re closed, every wink, every blink, they’ll see yer and pick up the scent.’
‘But-but surely there’s a spell you can use…?’
‘Mate, I can’t ward off Vulrein. I can whip up some enchantment to stop yer eyes gettin’ dry but yer’ll still blink. Everybody does.’
Krish felt coldness creeping over his whole body. His eyes tingled. All he wanted to do was to shut them right now. But to see those foul dogs again… He thought for a while. Only one course of action stood out to him.
‘What if you made me blind?’ he said.
‘Then yer’d see nothing else but them.’
‘But there must be something…’
‘No. I’m sorry, matey boy. But sooner or later they’ll catch up. And we’ll ’ave to fight ’em. I can attack when yer eyes are closed but yer’ll ’ave to guide me. And although they’re after yer, I’m guessin’ they’re not gonna look too kindly on anythin’ in their way. And right now, I really ’ave no idea what we’d do. A poorly aimed spell’ll do more ’arm than good. Once they catch up we’ll be in real trouble. And they will. In the end. No one keeps their eyes open for ever. So we’d better stay ahead of the game. Shut yer peepers for a few seconds every now and then, get a bearing on them, and then we can come up with a plan. They’ll know where we are but we’ll know where they are too.’
‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ Krish was too tired to be angry, but he gave it his best shot. ‘You know, about the Malshrael?’
‘Yes,’ admitted Balthrir. ‘But…’ She trailed off and for the first time since they’d met Balthrir was temporarily speechless. ‘I… I dunno. I panicked, all right? I-I-I just thought, ’E’ll blink! If I tell ’im ’e’ll blink! Thought they’d be on top of us in hours an-an-and… I dunno! I thought maybe yer’d blink less if yer weren’t thinkin’ about it!’ Krish had to admit that she was right: all he wanted to do now was shut his eyes. ‘S-so I thought we should get an ’ead-start. So come on. We’d better regain some of that distance before we do anything else.’
Krish didn’t budge and Balthrir stared down at him with wide-eyed urgency.
‘If you’re gonna crack out all that Balthrir, I’m sorry for getting you into all this stuff then do it on the move please, before we get eaten by invisible dogs!’
‘They’re going to eat us?!’
Krish didn’t think it could be possible for Balthrir’s eyes to be as wide as they were.
‘Eat us, tear us apart, ’owl at us till we bash our own ’eads in… Does it really matter ’ow they’re gonna do us in? Maybe we shouldn’t ’ang around and find out!’
Krish got to his feet.
‘Balthrir, I’m… I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I dunno how you’re putting up with all this.’
As they walked off Balthrir gave him the kind of look that said that she didn’t know how she was putting up with all this. They sped through the dark woods, edging closer and closer to the shores of the Night Ocean.
CHAPTER 17
TWO SPELLS
Night and day were now one in Betsarhldeth, forest of shadows. Krish and Balthrir hurried on through the dismal woods at an exhausting pace, until at last Krish heard the gentle sound of water lapping against the land. The trees were clearing ahead of them. Minutes later, Balthrir collapsed against a tree and Krish followed suit soon after. They had arrived.
As their laboured breathing died down, Krish turned and beheld the Night Ocean for the first time. The placid waters were eerily quiet. Only a few noiseless ripples drifted across the endless black mirror before them. The stillness of the water seemed to have infested the area with silence. The water slurped quietly, hardly disturbing the grey shingle on the slim beach, no wider than the bough of a tree. The rustling of the woods had died down.
Krish had never felt more exhausted in his life. He was enjoying the feeling of rest so much but he knew he couldn’t…
‘Do it.’
Krish looked over at Balthrir.
‘Shut ’em for a few seconds,’ she said. ‘Give ’em a break and report back. Just relax and yer’ll be able to focus.’
Krish closed his eyes.
*
Chewing bark … nuzzling blackened weeds …
necks craned upwards … deep nasal
breaths … looking in their direction …
*
‘They’re hungry,’ he said. ‘They know where we are… well, which direction we’re in, but none are making a move.’
‘There’s no much for ’em to eat in the forest. They’ll rest for a while but then they’ll be on our trail again. Are they far?’
‘Yes. I think so. They look tiny. Must be a long way away. Give me a minute and maybe I can see—’
‘Open up, kiddo!’ she barked and Krish obeyed. ‘Don’t go the other way. They’ll forget their empty stomachs once they know where to find two weary travellers to munch on. Right. Bit o’ grub and we’ll start trainin’.’
*
Balthrir tried to stew some black, bobbly fungi but they were a little plain and rubbery for Krish’s liking. Not that he could afford to be that fussy but every discomfort reminded him of his aching eyes, dried out and stinging from every gust of air to brush his eyeballs.
Balthrir kept Krish distracted with a briefing, outlining her plan to capture a pearl from the bed of the Night Ocean. She had two spells to assist him. The first was to fill his lungs with air underwater. She held her staff aloft and appeared to cut a silvery wound in the air itself, no bigger than his little finger. Then she placed her staff lightly against the left and then the right of his ribcage. For one bizarre moment he saw his lungs illuminated.
‘Now try lowerin’ yerself into the water.’ There was a sense of caution in Balthrir’s voice.
Krish stripped down to his pants and T-shirt. He could barely remember what colour his clothes had been when he arrived but now they were all a mucky yellowish-brown colour. He quickly became aware of how achingly uncomfortable he’d been in these old rags. They were probably less than a year old but he felt as if he’d worn them for a hundred. He climbed into the chilly water, deeply afraid of the bottomless black pool he was lowering himself into. He felt a tinge of pain right down in the marrow of his bones as the freezing ocean enveloped his entire body. He went numb in moments, the waters so cold he could hardly feel a thing.
‘Just open yer gob and breathe…’ he heard his wizard friend say as the water passed over his head.
He was freezing. Freezing! The currents f
lowing gently around him were all different degrees of cold. Less than a metre under the surface he could scarcely see a thing. His mouth opened in panic. Air rushed in. It rushed in so fast he couldn’t breathe. His lungs billowed. They’d burst! They’d burst under the pressure! His arms and legs flailed about desperately in the blackness and gripped nothing. Torrents of bubbles surged from his mouth and nose but more and more air was replacing whatever was escaping all the time. The constant stream of air was suffocating him!
Blinding white light burst across the surface above. The light dimmed a fraction and he made out Balthrir’s staff coming towards him. He grabbed the staff and within moments his body was pulled through the surface of the water and he collapsed onto the shore, breathless and shivering.
‘Balthr… Wha…’ he could hardly get ‘Balthrir, what the hell?!’ out of his aching lungs and past his quivering lips.
‘I know! I know! I’m sorry!’ she said, pacing up and down. ‘I-I-I just… Look, mate, it’s a difficult spell! It is… bloody difficult! Yer got any idea? Rippin’ a hole in the air? The air?! All this stuff—’ she waved her arms around in agitation ‘—and keepin’ it linked to some poor bugger’s lungs even if ’e’s miles below the water? Huh?! Any idea ’ow ’ard that is to get right?’
