Blue Moon Rising

by Simon R. Green

  “We’re not going to make it, Sire. We have to stand and fight.”

  “It’ll kill us!”

  “If you’ve a better idea, I’m open to suggestions.”

  Wet sucking sounds echoed behind them, and the creature grunted like some vast hog at its trough. Rupert glared about him as he ran.

  “The tunnel supports!” he said suddenly. “The wood’s half rotten anyway; cut through enough of them and the roof will collapse. That should slow the creature down!”

  He skidded to a halt and hacked at the nearest support with his sword. The blade sank deep into the rotting wood and stuck fast. Rupert cursed, and worked it free. The Champion sliced clean through the opposite support with one blow of his war axe. Rupert cut again and again at the stubborn timber, and finally sheared it through. The roof creaked once, and a little dust fell into the tunnel. The Champion cut through another support. Rupert glanced back down the tunnel and froze. The creature was fast approaching, surging forward like a flash flood. Frothing and writhing, it filled the tunnel with its eerie grey light. Deep within the semi-transparent flesh floated the limp bodies of the guards, turning slowly over and over, and Rupert finally knew what had happened to the people of Coppertown.

  Behind him, the Champion sheared through a thick timber support, and the roof creaked ominously. The sudden sound snapped Rupert out of his reverie, and he ran on down the tunnel to attack another support with his sword. The decaying wood fell apart on the first blow, and the roof sagged. Dust fell in thick streams as the rock overhead groaned and shifted. Rupert and the Champion ran on, and the tunnel roof came crashing down behind them. A thick cloud of dust billowed around them as they headed for the surface, and the sound of falling rock continued for some time.

  Rupert staggered out into the fresh night air and sank exhausted to the ground. The Champion stood beside him a moment, breathing evenly, and then moved away to tell the waiting guards what had happened. Rupert sat with his back propped against the half-timbered base of the main entrance, and listened to the gentle rumble of settling stone. He would have been hard-pressed to name a part of him that didn’t ache, but he was alive and intact, and that was enough to set him grinning like he’d never stop. He breathed deeply, savouring the clear air after the constant stench of the pit. He realised he was still holding tight to his sword and his lantern. He put the lantern down beside him, and studied the sword thoughtfully. It seemed the magic was gone from the rainbow sword, and in a strange way Rupert was almost glad. The last time he’d stood against the dark, a Rainbow had come down to save him; this time, he’d had to do it himself. And knowing that he’d been able to meant a great deal to him. He considered for a moment giving up the rainbow sword in favour of a blade more suited to combat, but decided against it. The sword had a good edge and a good balance, and he was used to it. Rupert sheathed his sword, and stretched slowly. It felt so good to be alive.

  The constant rumbling deep within the tunnel showed no sign of abating, and Rupert frowned despite himself. Countless tons of fallen rock stood between him and the creature of the dark; there was no way in which it could get past such a barrier … Rupert grabbed his lantern, clambered painfully to his feet, and stared into the tunnel darkness, a horrid certainty growing within him that the fight wasn’t over yet. He thought back to what he’d seen of the creature, and his scowl deepened. It had no shape save that dictated by its surroundings, and when it moved, it frothed and undulated as though its unnatural flesh was some strange mixture of solid and liquid, or perhaps even something else entirely, with the properties of both. In his mind’s eye Rupert saw again the solid oak platform burst asunder as the creature smashed right through it without even slowing.

  Rupert swore softly, under his breath. He knew the creature was dead, crushed into pulp under tons of fallen rubble. He knew it, but he had to see it himself, to be sure. He drew his sword, held his lantern high, and moved back into the tunnel, squinting through the slowly settling dust that choked the air. The Champion was suddenly at his side.

  “Where are you going, Sire?”

  “Just down the tunnel a way.”

  “It isn’t safe, Sire.”

  “If that tunnel isn’t sealed, none of us are safe. I’m going to take a look.”

  The Champion studied him, and then bowed slightly. “Very well, Sire. Wait just a moment, and I’ll detail a few guards to accompany us.”

  “No!” Rupert checked himself, surprised at his sudden anger, and when he spoke again his voice was calm and even. “We took four guards with us on our first investigation of this mine, sir Champion. Now they’re dead. I never even knew their names. What’s left of that tunnel roof could come down at any minute, and I’ll not put any more of my men at risk unless I have to. I’m only going back in because I need to be sure.”

  “Then I’ll come with you,” said the Champion. “I need to be sure, too.”

  Rupert nodded, and headed down the tunnel into the darkness, the Champion at his side. The tunnel air was still thick with dust, and the roof and walls creaked ominously. Rupert and the Champion soon reached the cave-in: a ragged wall of fallen stone and earth and broken timber. The Champion stared dubiously about him as Rupert moved cautiously forward to inspect the massive barricade. He prodded the wall here and there with his sword, but nothing gave by so much as an inch. Silence filled the narrow tunnel, broken only by the soft whisper of earth trickling down from cracks in the lowering roof.

  “Come away, Sire,” said the Champion quietly. “It’s all over.”

  “No,” said Rupert. “I don’t think so. I can hear something … something moving …”

  He backed quickly away, still staring at the wall of fallen debris, and then a single boulder at the top of the barrier slowly teetered and fell forward into the tunnel. And through the gap it left slithered a long rope of glowing silver flesh. From beyond the barrier came a deafening roar of triumph and bloody hunger, culminating in a vast sonorous grunt. The Champion hefted his war axe uncertainly and glanced at Rupert.

  “If the cave-in didn’t hurt it, I don’t see what more we can do, Sire. Let’s get out of here. If we can get to the horses, we might be able to outdistance it.”

  “No!” snapped Rupert. “We have to stop it here! At least the tunnel keeps it to a manageable size; if it reaches the surface …”

  The Champion nodded, and grinned suddenly. “I never did believe in running away from a good fight. What are your orders, Sire?”

  The barrier began to fall apart as glowing silver-grey flesh enveloped the smaller rocks and digested them. More and more of the creature flowed into the tunnel as Rupert glared furiously about for an answer. The creature was of the dark, and the dark must always fall to the light; the rainbow sword had failed him, but perhaps his lantern … He darted forward and carefully placed the lantern in the path of a probing silver tentacle. The tentacle ignored the lantern and lashed out at Rupert. He swung his sword double-handed, and it slashed easily through the pallid flesh, meeting only the faintest resistance. Rupert smiled grimly as the severed end splashed to the floor, and then he spun round as the Champion shouted a warning. Broad cracks had spread across the barrier, and the creature was breaking through in a dozen places. Rupert and the Champion fell back, and the creature flowed after them. A silver tentacle rolled over the lantern, engulfing it in a second, and Rupert’s heart fell. And then the creature screamed and flung away the tentacle, as the silver flesh burst into flame. The discarded tentacle writhed feebly as the fire consumed it, burning fiercely until nothing remained but an evil stench on the air. Rupert grinned savagely as the answer came to him. Fire—man’s oldest ally against the dark.

  “Oil lamps!” he yelled to the Champion. “Get me some oil lamps!”

  The Champion nodded quickly, and sprinted back to the surface. Rupert hefted his sword and studied the creature warily by its own eerie light. The barrier blocking the tunnel was riven in a dozen places, and silver-grey flesh oozed through the
narrow fissures in a steady flow. Stone and earth and timber creaked ominously as the creature pressed its awful weight against the barrier, and Rupert knew it was only a matter of moments before the mounting pressure would burst the wall asunder, and the creature would come roaring down the tunnel like a flash flood. If the Champion wasn’t back by then, Rupert knew that running wouldn’t be enough to save him. He started to retreat cautiously down the tunnel, and the Champion came to meet him with a dozen guards, all carrying oil lamps.

  “Right,” said Rupert crisply. “Empty the oil out on to the floor, then go back for more lamps. Move it, there’s not much time!”

  The guards exchanged glances but did as they were told, and soon the tunnel floor was awash with oil. Deep in the dark, the creature grunted hungrily as the stone and earth barrier heaved and cracked apart. Rupert sent the guards back to the surface, and studied the pool of oil that lay between him and the creature.

  “Think there’s enough, sir Champion?”

  “If not, we’ll soon find out, Sire.”

  Rupert laughed, and turned to face the Champion. “Give me your lantern, and then get out of here.”

  “Lighting the oil is my job,” said the Champion evenly.

  “Not this time.”

  The two men looked at each other, and then the Champion bowed slightly.

  “I’ll wait at the entrance, Sire. Don’t be long.”

  Rupert nodded his thanks, and the Champion turned and padded silently back down the tunnel. Rupert sheathed his sword, knelt beside the pool of oil, and watched the barrier slowly fall apart. He wasn’t really sure why he’d sent the Champion back; he only knew this was something he had to do. If only to prove to himself that he didn’t need a magic sword to be brave. The stone and earth of the barrier began to shake, and Rupert opened the lantern and took out the candle stub. He glanced at the pool of oil, and hesitated. If he stooped down to light the oil with the candle, the sudden flames would engulf him too, but if he threw the candle, it would probably go out before it hit the oil. And then the creature roared with triumph as it finally burst through the barrier, and surged down the tunnel towards him.

  Rupert wavered uncertainly as the glowing silver tide came sweeping forward, dark shadows that had once been men floating half-digested within the creature’s bulk. Some of the shadows were no larger than children. That thought gave him the answer, and Rupert grinned fiercely as he pulled from inside his jerkin the cloth doll he’d found abandoned back in the miner’s house. He dipped the doll’s head in the oil, stood up, and then touched the candle to the doll’s head. It burned steadily, glowing gold and crimson against the dark. Rupert looked up. The creature was almost upon him, filling the tunnel from floor to ceiling and wall to wall. Its deep sonorous grunts had taken on a hellish unnerving rhythm that seemed to shudder through his bones. Rupert threw the burning doll into the oil, and then turned and ran for the surface.

  Intense heat scorched his back as the oil caught, and the tunnel was suddenly full of light. And then the creature screamed shrilly, so loud that Rupert stumbled to a halt, his hands clapped to his ears. He stared back down the tunnel and saw the creature burning, brighter than the brightest lamp. It writhed and heaved as the fire coursed through it, consuming the creature from within. It tried to retreat back down the tunnel, but the fire followed, and the flames grew brighter still, until Rupert could hardly see for the blinding glare. He turned and ran for the surface again, driven away by the searing heat, and then a vast explosion picked him up and threw him down the tunnel, and all the light was gone.

  For a time, he lay still on the packed earth of the tunnel floor, just glad to be alive. His head ached, and his ears rang from the explosion, but otherwise he seemed largely unhurt. He rose painfully to his feet, half choking on the thick, evil-smelling smoke that filled the narrow tunnel, and slowly he made his way back through the darkness, and out into the night. The waiting guards cheered as he stumbled out of the main entrance, and Rupert raised a hand tiredly in response and then sat down quickly before he fell down. The guards laughed, cheered him again, and then moved away to start preparations for the journey back to Coppertown. Rupert leaned back against the entrance wall, and let the tiredness take him. He felt he’d earned a rest, at least for a while. The Champion came and stood over him.

  “I take it the creature burned, Sire.”

  “Yes,” said Rupert. “It burned.”

  “Do you think it’s dead?”

  “They say fire purifies … No, sir Champion, it’s not dead. We’ve just hurt it, and driven it back, back into the depths, into the dark and secret places of the earth from which it came.”

  Rupert rose slowly to his feet, stared briefly into the mine entrance and then turned his back on it. The cold wind blowing was clear and fresh, dispelling the stench of corruption and decay like a passing memory.

  “You didn’t have to stay and light the oil,” said the Champion slowly. “That was well and bravely done, Sire.”

  Rupert shrugged uncomfortably. “You did pretty well yourself, sir Champion.”

  “I did my duty, nothing more.”

  Rupert thought of the Champion’s fear of the mine, but said nothing.

  “A pity we couldn’t save any of the townspeople,” said the Champion.

  “It was already too late when we got here,” said Rupert. “There was nothing we could have done. Not much of a homecoming for you, was it?”

  The Champion watched the guards mill back and forth, his face as impassive as ever. “Forest Castle is my home, Sire, and always has been. What are your orders for the mine?”

  “Have the guards bring down the tunnel roof again, sir Champion; I want that entrance completely blocked. I doubt it’ll stop the creature getting out, but it should stop it enticing any more victims down into the mine.”

  The Champion nodded, and moved away to give the orders to the guards. Rupert watched him go, and let his hand rest on the pommel of the rainbow sword. Now the blade has proved itself worthless as a weapon against the dark, his mission to summon the High Warlock became more important than ever.

  The wind seemed suddenly colder. Rupert stared up at the new moon; already it seemed tinged with blue, like the first hint of leprosy.

  Chapter Four

  ALLIES

  Princess Julia paced impatiently back and forth in the Court’s narrow antechamber, bored out of her mind. King John had sent for her half an hour ago, but despite all her shouting and kicking, the double doors leading to the Great hall remained securely locked. Julia threw herself into a chair and scowled at the world, fed up to her back teeth. There was no one to talk to, nothing to do, and since they’d taken down all the portraits she couldn’t even while away the time with a little target practice. Julia sighed disgustedly, folded her arms, and cursed Rupert to hell and back for riding off and leaving her.

  He’d been gone almost three months, and Julia missed him more than she cared to admit. She’d done her best to settle into the Court and its Society, but as so many times before, her best hadn’t been nearly good enough. Her willingness to knock brickdust out of anybody dumb enough to insult her twice had earned her a certain grudging respect, but few friends. Those Ladies of Julia’s age and station had tried their utmost to make her feel welcome, but they didn’t really have much in common with the young Princess. Their main interests were gossip, fashion and the best ways of catching a rich husband, while Julia didn’t give a damn about romantic or Court intrigue, threw away her fashionable shoes because they pinched her feet, and threatened to become violent if anyone even mentioned her forthcoming marriage to Prince Harald. She much preferred riding, hunting and sword drill, pastimes which scandalised her peers. It’s not feminine, they protested faintly. In reply, Julia said something extremely coarse, and all the young Ladies suddenly found compelling reasons why they had to be somewhere else.

  After that, Julia found herself left pretty much alone.

  At first, she spent a lot of tim
e exploring the castle. She quickly discovered that the same door needn’t lead to the same room twice; that some doors were entrances, some were exits, but not all were both; and that some corridors actually folded back upon themselves when you weren’t looking. Julia found all this intensely interesting, but unfortunately she tended to get lost rather a lot, and after the fourth search party King John made her promise not to stray from the main corridors without a guide. And that, for all practical purposes, was that.

  Like their master the Seneschal, who governed the day-to-day running of the Castle, the guides shared a strange mystical sense that told them where they were in relation to everything else. This meant that not only could they not get lost, but they knew where any given room was at any given time. In a Castle where directions depended on which day of the week it was when you asked, such gifted people were invaluable, and therefore rather scarce on the ground when you needed them. Julia reluctantly gave up her explorations, and went back to challenging the guards at sword drill.

  The King then provided her with a chaperone. Julia quickly discovered that the easiest way to deal with that sweet grey-haired old Lady was to run her off her feet. After three days of running round the Castle at full tilt just to keep Julia in sight, this worthy Lady told the King flatly that the young Princess had no need of a chaperone, as there wasn’t a man in the Castle fleet enough of foot to catch up with her.

  Which was not to say that nobody tried. The main contender was of course Harald, who seemed to think that their arranged marriage already gave him certain rights to her person, if not her affections. A few jolting left hooks taught him to keep his distance, and sharpened up his reflexes wonderfully, but he seemed to regard it all as part of the game and wouldn’t be put off. Julia supposed she was meant to find this flattering, but she didn’t. Harald was charming enough when he wanted to be, but when he wasn’t flexing his muscles for her to admire, he was dropping heavy hints about his vast personal wealth, and how all the Forest Kingdom would be his one day. In return Julia tried to drop little hints concerning how she felt about him, like hitting him, or trying to push him off the battlements. Unfortunately he still didn’t seem to get the message. Julia avoided him as much as possible, and for the most part they settled on an armed truce, with an unspoken agreement never to use the word marriage.