by N. J. Mercer
Keeper and familiar stood alone in the clearing. “Shall we head back now?” asked Baccharus.
“Yeah, let’s go; it’s late.”
The pair started to retrace their steps to the motorhome. “What actually happened, Johnny? What was Theodora talking about?” Baccharus asked once they had made their way out of the woods.
“Hmm … I’m still trying to understand it all myself. I’ll attempt to explain it to you when this is over; for now, let me just give you a small demonstration.”
Johnny stopped walking and concentrated deeply. The world around him slowly warped; it stretched and twisted until it was no longer recognisable. To know his current location in space–time, it was necessary for him to ignore the five senses and perceive his environment only through Presarium. Baccharus watched, mesmerised. From his point of view, it was in fact Johnny that was warping and shape-shifting.
“Whoa!” yelled the familiar, his face a picture of absolute astonishment as his keeper twisted and stretched into a man-shaped blur that rapidly accelerated away. Baccharus tried to follow the blur. He flew quickly; despite his best efforts he could barely keep up. And just when the familiar thought he was going to lose sight of Johnny altogether, he too felt the world suddenly start to twist and blur around him. This was followed by an exhilarating sensation of speed such as he had never felt before. Johnny had evidently decided to give Baccharus a tow.
They were about fifty metres from the motorhome when Johnny slowed down and returned to three-dimensional form with his familiar; the air around both of them remained charged with static.
“Johnny, dude! What the heck was that?” asked Baccharus.
“Like Theodora said, it is the will that determines where we are and whatever is around us. I believe I managed to alter space–time.”
“It sure beats walking. Hell! It’s even better than flying! Johnny, your psychic ability is awesome! The Council always said they had high hopes for you, and they were totally right! Why don’t you take us all the way to the Disciples like that? Give them a surprise attack they will never recover from!”
“There are limitations, unfortunately. You have got to be pretty familiar with your route and your destination to do that trick, and a clear run always helps too. I have a lot to learn still. Let’s get back to the boys; they must be missing us.”
Johnny walked the rest of the way to the motorhome. The cloud cover that was obscuring the moon cleared just as the wind picked up; for an instant, the man in his flapping long coat and the familiar hovering at his shoulder were silhouetted against a silvery background.
Chapter 26
Boyd roared through the night on his motorbike. He felt bad about leaving Sascha behind. In the short time they had known each other, he had become quite fond of this odd man with whom he shared an interest in mechanics and gadgets. He would have felt worse though if Johnny had not turned up and they had to go in unprepared; to not even attempt some form of reconnaissance was simply not his way of dealing with situations like this. Boyd took some consolation in the fact that he had left his beloved revolver with Sascha and even given him a quick lesson on its use. True, Sascha had not actually asked for the handgun, but what the hell, it was a pretty generous gesture, Boyd thought to himself. Johnny, on the other hand, still had his Qrwshan amulet; two of his prized possessions left behind to help his companions. He decided he was not such a bad guy after all.
It was not far from the old petrol station to the residence of Edward Devilliers. Having studied the maps whilst waiting for Johnny meant Boyd had a good idea about how to get there. On a few occasions, he slowed the bike and moved his eyes off the road ahead to look around. With some apprehension, he noted the bright gibbous moon, just as he had earlier from the motorhome’s window, it might make it difficult for them to remain concealed outdoors. The fast-moving clouds overhead which sporadically obscured the moonlight could, however, work in their favour.
Despite the dire circumstances, he could still appreciate the scenery on a more aesthetic level, snatching glimpses of beautiful moonlit peaks and valleys that stretched for miles towards the horizon. He regretted not being able to enjoy the ride more; biking was not just a means of transport for him, it was also a source of pleasure. But the evil brewing in this beautiful landscape did not allow any time for such luxury.
He had been riding for about twenty minutes and was up to full speed again. He leaned into a right turn and found himself travelling along country lanes so narrow that no two vehicles larger than a small car would have been able to pass each other along them; he would definitely recommend an alternative route for the motorhome. The ostensibly rash decision he had made earlier to scout ahead was paying off already. The data he had managed to gather on the roads, terrain and weather would make life a little easier for them.
The hedges and fields that had dominated the roadside thus far were now giving way to woodland, and he knew from the maps and Johnny’s meeting with Mrs McGuiness that it was not far from here to the rear of Edward Devilliers’ house. He was so near to the enemy now that he resorted to taking comfort in the abridged Grimoire tucked into his jacket; he could almost feel the powerful runes on its cover against his skin. Boyd mumbled some of its memorised verses under his breath and kept his keen eyes alert for a suitable place to conceal the motorhome when it was time to raid the house.
Chapter 27
Edward waited for Elizabeth at the foot of the worn stone staircase that led from the humble utility room to the grand, dual-pillared entrance chamber of his hidden underground complex. He was putting his long, black cape on again as his wife caught up with him.
“What is it, Edward?” asked Elizabeth Devilliers, her voice insistent.
There was a cruel smile on her husband’s face. “There’s someone you need to meet down below. I’m afraid I may choose him to be tonight’s offering. I would like to know what you think.”
Elizabeth shrugged; she wondered why Edward was so bothered about her thoughts on the sacrifice so late into the proceedings, especially as there were other, more pressing, matters. “What about the girls, Edward? They will be down any time now.”
“They can wait, dear. They’re not going anywhere. Just hurry along now, would you?”
She briskly followed Edward down the second stone stairway, further underground. As an early initiate into the Disciples, she was familiar with most of the secrets that lay beneath the house and had descended into its labyrinth countless times before. In the beginning, she had found it a dark and frightening place; now, it was akin to sacred ground for her, a place she entered with great reverence. Already, she could feel this night was special; it could be sensed in the atmosphere even by non-psychics. The air was filled with dark energy, and the entire stone complex resonated with the pulse from the portal and the chant of the Disciples; it filled her with excitement. Edward was the master of these unfolding events and so, by association, she too had authority here.
Elizabeth could not fathom why Edward wanted her to see the unfortunate who would be the offering tonight. She followed her husband along a tunnelled corridor that branched off from one of the landings along the stone stairway, far from the underground cathedral. This corridor split and turned a few times before ending in a small stone hall which was lit by a central glowing brazier positioned beneath a vent cut into its low ceiling, yet another part of the ingenious air channel network carved out of the rock beneath the house.
Elizabeth did not know this part of the complex particularly well; she eventually recognised it as the level where the cells were located. It was the place Edward held those who displeased him and those who would be required for ceremonial purposes at some point. Often, Disciples with a masochistic desire for captivity or the need to explore deeper into their own psyche were also found here.
Lurking in the shadows of the hallway were three muscular humanoids, naked and pale-skinned. Standard issue leather masks were stretched over the angular bumps on each one’s head,
covering their faces. On the arrival of Edward Devilliers and his wife, they unbolted one of the cells. Nobody came out; Elizabeth heard a groan from inside which sounded disconcertingly familiar. Edward turned his head towards her. “Someone has been asking about you,” he said in a sinister voice. He gently cupped Elizabeth’s face in his massive hands and kissed her lips.
“I know you won’t let me down,” he whispered before turning and leaving the hall.
Hesitantly, Elizabeth walked past the brazier to the opened door. The three Disciples standing guard parted for her, and she proceeded into the darkness of the cell. Carefully, they closed the door behind her and opened the slat set high within it to allow some of the faint light from the brazier to enter. Even here she could feel the ebb of the portal. Elizabeth saw the vague shape of a person lying prone on the cobbled floor in the shadows; he was beside a small hole that she guessed was used for sluicing excrement from this horrid room. Her eyes darted nervously around the rest of the cell to ensure there was nobody else present, prisoner or otherwise; except for the slumped figure, the place was empty. There was a groan. “Who are you?” she asked firmly.
The captive turned over slowly; her eyes had not fully adapted to the poor light, but she could tell that the man was trying to look at her.
“Who are you?” she asked again, and the figure gasped.
“Elizabeth!” cried Martin in disbelief, his voice weak.
It took a few more seconds for it to dawn on Elizabeth that the broken figure lying on the ground was her younger brother.
“Martin?” She hesitated before going to crouch beside him in the shadows.
“What have we done to you, Martin?” she asked with sisterly concern. She noticed the wound on his leg. “Did the Disciples do this?”
“No,” Martin groaned, and with a painful laugh he added, “I did it to myself actually. Something had my leg in the garden.”
“Did you stop carrying the amulet I gave you all those years ago? I told you it would keep you safe.”
“The amber never really went with any of my outfits.”
“Stop joking! What are you doing here?”
“I didn’t think he would let me see you.”
“Who? Edward? What’s going on?”
“Elizabeth, you must stop Edward while there’s still a chance. You must end whatever he has planned for tonight; save Rachel and the girls.”
To stop the ceremony was unthinkable. Martin’s words were akin to blasphemy, and they filled Elizabeth with an anger that started to eclipse the pity she felt for her injured brother. “Nothing can stop what happens tonight; it is the greatest event to occur upon the planet Earth for aeons. What have you done, Martin? You could have been part of it.”
“Liz, you sound just like Edward!” gasped Martin between painful breaths.
“What is it, Martin? What made you turn away from the Disciples?”
“I always had my doubts about the road one took as a Disciple. Over time, I got to know what Edward was all about, and I didn’t like it. Please, Liz, just get away from him, and take Rachel with you.”
“Why?”
Martin fell quiet for a few seconds. “Edward killed Louise,” he said finally. He watched closely. Elizabeth showed no reaction and this made Martin hesitate. “Listen to me, Elizabeth, then you will understand what Edward and his filthy friends are all about. My body is hurting everywhere – it’s only now that I have the strength to tell you this. Edward can’t have corrupted you … you were always such a good person.”
Elizabeth did not say a word. Martin opened his mouth to try to speak; he gasped instead and clutched at his leg. Elizabeth looked at his wound; she had noticed an offensive smell from it as she entered the cell, and she was sure it had become infected. Ignoring his suffering, she waited to hear what he had to say.
“Do you remember when I got out of jail all those years ago, Elizabeth? How you helped me build a new life? I will always be grateful for that. They were good times. I enjoyed belonging, meeting important people and learning the secrets Edward taught us; it was all good. I met Louise a few years after that. Do you remember how I bumped into her for the first time in your house? I saw her again in the village pub, she was behind the bar, and we really hit it off. She was a wonderful girl; the way we connected and the relationship we had was the best feeling I have ever known. I know you liked her too.
“When Chloe died in the accident, Edward began showing an interest in Louise and Rachel. He started to invite Louise to meetings the Disciples were having, and he would ask me to bring her along for his lavish dinners. The poor girl really was blown away by the attention. It was Edward’s usual way of luring people in; you know how he is. He introduced her to the Disciples of Disorder like they were harmless work colleagues, and all the time he was slowly brainwashing her, drip-feeding her his philosophy. The more sinister parts, like the ceremonies, always came later, didn’t they? It was only afterwards that I realised Edward was after Louise to get Rachel. Even at that time, there were rumours circulating amongst the Disciples that Edward was going to enact one of the cult’s most powerful rites, and for this he needed three girls; you must have heard it too. Only now can I see that the rumours were true. When he fostered the girls with you it wasn’t through some sense of charity; there was a darker purpose to it, just like in everything else he did. After Chloe died so unexpectedly, Edward needed a quick and suitable replacement for her so that there would be three once again; so he chose Rachel. He tried to influence Louise, hoping she would give Rachel to him willingly; she wouldn’t do it though. His solution was simple: he got rid of Louise instead.” Martin stopped speaking.
Elizabeth knew he was expecting her to be shocked by these revelations; she was unmoved. She loved her brother dearly; it seemed he did not understand her at all. “Is that it, Martin? Is that all you wanted to tell me? That Edward killed Louise so he could use Rachel for some ceremony?” Elizabeth asked coldly.
Martin looked back at her. His face had lit up on first seeing Elizabeth; now it was distraught.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” he spat. “Are you pitying me? How about Louise … and Rachel? Don’t you care about what happened to them?” He shifted his gaze away from her unblinking eyes. “No,” he whispered, “no.” And then he turned back to face her. “No, I won’t believe it. Edward has not got to you yet; I know he hasn’t. I remember how you were always so concerned about the well-being of others. I know there’s something still there, some of the big sister I once had. There’s more, Liz, please let me finish before you do anything tonight.”
Elizabeth said nothing; neither had she stopped listening, so Martin continued. “There were witnesses around when Louise died. They said she had been mauled by a vicious dog belonging to a tall man dressed in black. Well, you know what? The man and the dog were both here, in this house, with Edward. I saw them with my own eyes a couple of months ago. It happened when I was driving back to Glasgow after fixing that computer network in Fort William. It was late; I was a little sleepy and was passing by your house. I thought it would be a good idea to stop for a quick coffee; say hi to you guys and Rachel. Do you remember that night?
“When I got here, I parked on the drive, and before knocking on the door I started to sort through some paperwork in my car. I saw two figures in the distance, walking along the very edge of the garden, talking quietly to each other. One of them I recognised as Edward, the other I had never seen before. He was a tall man in black, and following him was some massive creature, like a dog. Edward walked back into the house while the other man left through a gate in the garden perimeter wall. It was dark, and they never saw my car beside yours. That was the first time I saw Mr Kreb and his pet. There they were, in the garden. I instantly made a link between them and the mysterious attack on Louise, I couldn’t be certain though. They looked pretty scary. I remembered that necklace thing you gave me; I took it from the glove compartment and stuffed it into my pocket. I was feelin
g pretty uneasy; I decided to stick to my plan and call on you all in the house. You opened the door for me, do you remember? Rachel and the girls were already asleep, and the two of us just sat and chatted for a while. Then Edward came in. I didn’t say anything to him straight away; when you left to get the coffee, I challenged him about the man in black. He seemed evasive at first; eventually he told me it was the new bloke in charge of security, a Mr Kreb apparently. I asked him up front if there was any chance he could have been the one responsible for Louise’s death, just to see his reaction. Edward played everything down; told me I was absurd. He said I was still upset about Louise. There was insincerity in his manner when he stated this … wait, I should rephrase that … let’s say there was more than his usual insincerity. I wasn’t convinced by his reassurances. He never mentioned Mr Kreb to me again after that night; later on, I asked some of the other Disciples about this new head of security. A few had heard of him, many had not, nobody had seen him. I left that night questioning who Mr Kreb was, whether he was the man whose dog had killed Louise, and if so, what did Edward have to do with it. Driving away that night, I remembered Louise’s personal journals, the exercise books and diaries Mrs McGuiness and I were keeping for Rachel. There had to be a clue there I thought to myself. And so, despite the late hour, I went to Mrs McGuiness’s cottage. I got the poor old woman out of bed and searched through the wardrobe in her spare room until I found what I was looking for. I just sat there and started reading straight away. The things she wrote, they were so strange. She described nightmares, of being haunted by a frightening man in black who turned into a dog and attacked her; I mean, it was like a premonition.” Martin fell silent and struggled to sit himself up against the wall of the cell. His breathing was shallow; there was anger in his eyes as he spoke again.
“Have you seen Mr Kreb, this man in black, around here, Elizabeth?”
