Changeling Dark Moon

by Steve Feasey

  ‘From what little I’ve read about the Arel, I think that she’d be fine if there were a hundred and four demons armed to the back teeth down there.’

  Trey nodded. Somehow he knew Charles was right. He stood up and shook himself, his thick fur sending a fine shower of beer flying off in all directions.

  ‘Thanks for that,’ Charles said, wiping his eye. ‘Are you sure you don’t want to cock your leg and pee on me while you’re at it?’

  The werewolf shrugged his massive shoulders. His own neck and back still felt painful and tender, but he had had the benefit of his fur to shield him from the worst of it and guessed that it must be much worse for the young mage. He held a hand down to Charles and lifted him back up on to his feet, noticing the wince of pain on his face. He reached out and lifted the barrel up off the floor again, holding it up with one arm and letting the dregs of the fluid dribble out. He moved Charles under the stream again, turning him round and patting at the areas of flesh that were most badly scorched.

  When he was finished Charles looked up at him, nodding his thanks.

  Trey moved off, looking for a way up into the next level of the tower. Spotting a staircase in one corner he started to move towards it, signalling for the young sorcerer to follow.

  Charles ran after him, almost bumping into the werewolf, who had stopped suddenly, peering intently at something in a crate close to the stairway.

  ‘What is it?’ Charles said, moving over to stand beside Trey.

  Inside the large wooden crate were hunting trophies; the heads of the creatures had been mounted on to black wooden plinths, their faces frozen forever in bloodthirsty snarls by the taxidermist. The heads were all from the same animal – giant wolf faces with lips drawn back to reveal ivory fangs and baleful eyes that glared back at the world.

  Charles could feel the anger radiating from the werewolf standing beside him and he gingerly reached up to place a hand on Trey’s shoulder. ‘Remember what we’re here for, Trey. We need to get going.’ He waited a second and then moved to the foot of the stone staircase. ‘Come on,’ he said.

  The werewolf took one last look at the contents of the crate before turning to join his friend.

  The stairs wound around the walls of the tower’s interior and they climbed them slowly, heedful of the angel’s warnings, expecting an attack at any time from around the next bend. It seemed to be getting colder as they ascended, and this struck Trey as odd. Their breath hung in the air before them as they pushed on up into the heart of the tower.

  The only light came in from tall, thin arrow-slits set into the walls at regular intervals and from these came a low moaning sound as the wind outside blew across them, setting the two interlopers on edge every time they approached one. The higher they climbed the more nervous the two of them became. Suddenly Charles stopped, holding his hand up and cocking his head. They stayed like that for what seemed like an age, listening out for a repeat of whatever it was that he thought he’d heard. Eventually the young sorcerer shook his head. ‘Must have been the wind,’ he said, and they carried on, creeping upward with all their senses dialled to maximum.

  When they reached the top a great wooden door barred their way. Trey reached out to twist the heavy metal hoop that served as a doorknob, but Charles put a hand on his arm. ‘This has all been too easy. What if this is a trap? What if Caliban’s waiting on the other side of that door?’

  Trey looked at Charles’s ruined face and the burn marks on his clothes and skin. ‘If you think this has been easy, I’d hate to see what you think is a tough day at the office. We’ve got no choice,’ he said. ‘We came here to get the Globe, and the only way to do that is to go through this door.’

  Charles sighed, his breath hanging in the air before slowly dissipating. ‘You’re right,’ he said. ‘Onward and upward, eh?’

  They pushed the door open and stepped through.

  Alexa’s driving was terrible. She’d only had six lessons, and in her haste to draw the bat colony away from the tower’s entrance she was crashing through the gears in a way that made Tom think that, of the three of them, it was probably the car that was in more danger of being imminently killed than either himself or Alexa.

  The bats had followed them though. They still attacked the windows and bodywork of the car as it drove along, and Tom was astonished that they had not given up their ineffectual attempts to break through.

  After about a mile they stopped. They had come off the road and pulled into a small field, the vehicle’s four-by-four capabilities making light work of the off-roading.

  The bats still swarmed around the car, but the full-frontal assault seemed to have abated a little. They were circling the car now – a giant, black, moving hoop of creatures intent on killing.

  ‘What next?’ Tom asked.

  Alexa stared out at the creatures and then glanced at her watch, calculating how long the boys had been inside Leroth. She turned to look at Tom, who was still sitting in the back of the car.

  ‘What is it?’ the Irishman said. ‘Come on, out with it. You’ve got an idea, I can see that, so let’s hear it.’

  ‘I have got an idea, Tom, but it’s a pretty rubbish one, I think.’

  ‘Well, Alexa, even a rubbish idea is a damned sight better than no idea at all, which is precisely what I have got right now. So come on, what is it?’

  Alexa glanced outside again before continuing. ‘I think I have a spell that would wipe out all these creatures in one go. It can be cast over a wide area and anything that is moving within that area will be killed.’

  ‘Marvellous! Let’s do it.’

  ‘There’s a problem, Tom. Well, actually there are two problems.’

  ‘And they are?’

  ‘Firstly I’ve never cast this spell properly before. I think I can do it, but it is going to take just about everything I have to make it work.’

  ‘Would you be putting yourself in any danger?’ Tom asked, staring at her intently.

  ‘No, Tom. As long as you and I keep totally still when it’s being cast there isn’t any immediate danger. It’s just that this is a big spell. For someone like Charles it probably wouldn’t be any great shakes, but I’m not Charles.’ She held up her hand to stop Tom from interrupting her. ‘But I do believe I can do it.’

  The Irishman nodded slowly. ‘Right. That’s the first problem. What’s the second?’

  ‘We need to get out of the car for it to work.’

  Tom swore under his breath.

  ‘It gets worse. I can start the incantation inside the car. I can get to a point where it will only require me to climb out and utter the last few lines for it to work. But I will not be able to do that if I am under attack. I’m going to need you to get out before me and draw them away from the car. Then you’ll have to stay completely still with those things attacking you until I can kill them all.’

  Tom looked out of the window. At that precise moment one of the tiny creatures threw itself at the glass, its evil little features pressed for a fraction of a second up against the surface before it fell back to the ground. Tom turned back to Alexa and puffed out his cheeks. ‘I’ll take a borrow of that padded coat that you’re wearing to put over my head. There’s little I can do about my hands and legs.’ He nodded his head and tried to put on a brave face. ‘Let’s do it.’

  Alexa rested the back of her skull against the front seat’s headrest. She closed her eyes and began to chant the words of the spell. Tom had zipped his own jacket up around his neck and placed Alexa’s over his shoulders so that he could pull it up over his head quickly. He took a deep breath and looked over at Alexa. They had agreed that when she raised her left hand he would open the door and make a run for it. His idea was to get about thirty feet away from the vehicle before dropping to his knees and balling up on the ground to protect as much of himself as he could.

  The sounds of the spell were in a tongue that Tom thought must have died out a long time ago because there was no single word that even vagu
ely resembled anything from his world. The interior of the car was getting incredibly hot. The heat seemed to be generated by Alexa as she intoned the words in a flat, harsh voice, and he would dearly have loved to undo the zip of his coat.

  Alexa stopped. She took a huge breath and held it in her lungs. Her eyes were still closed and she sat perfectly still for a second before raising her left hand and flexing the tips of her fingers slightly.

  Tom took a big breath of his own and yanked on the handle of the door. He jumped out of the car as quickly as he could, pulling his hands inside the sleeves of the coat as he did so. Tucking his chin down on to his chest, he sprinted as quickly as he could away from the car.

  They were on him before he had even taken a couple of steps. The entire colony seemed to converge on the Irishman as he leaped from the car and tried to run through them. There were three of the creatures on his face already, one on his cheek, one with its teeth sunk into the bridge of his nose and another one which seemed, judging from the blood pouring into his right eye, to have already taken a bite from his eyebrow and now seemed to be working on its second helping.

  After fifteen or so strides, Tom dropped to his knees. He ripped the three creatures off his face and covered as much of his head as he could with Alexa’s jacket. His backside was horribly exposed, as were his legs and back, and it felt as if the entire colony of bats was now feasting on these areas.

  The pain was incredible. He hurt in a thousand different places and he could do nothing at all to defend himself. He wanted to thrash out and remove the things from him but he knew he had to stay still – utterly still.

  What was only nine or ten seconds seemed to last for an eternity.

  Alexa stepped from the car no more than a second or so after Tom had leaped out. The colony ignored her – it was too intent on feasting on the running prey that had so foolishly offered itself up to them.

  She turned to face the swarm, her eyes still closed and that same breath still held in her lungs, despite her thrashing heart’s demands for fresh oxygen to feed her adrenalin-charged muscles.

  ‘Iglaron ashnaffen zogren Atall. Ishnok skim ’zath orok MEHAN!’

  She opened her eyes, keeping utterly still, not even daring to breathe. For one horrible second she thought that the spell was not going to work as the bats swooped in on Tom’s body, each tiny creature battling for a spot to feast on.

  Then they were dust.

  The bats simply burst into clouds of fine black dust that drifted slowly to the ground. Thousands of them had been wiped out in one go.

  Alexa went to take a step to see how badly Tom was hurt, but the world went black, and she collapsed into a heap beside the car.

  After a moment or so Tom lifted his head. There was no sign of the bats. In fact, there was no sign of anything at all except for an irritating powder in the air that got into his nostrils and made him want to sneeze.

  He slowly climbed to his feet, closing his eyes against the pain and discomfort that he was feeling. He was bleeding from a multitude of wounds.

  A small shiver swept through him and he thanked his lucky stars that he was still alive.

  He turned back to congratulate Alexa, when he saw her lying on the ground by the driver’s door. He moved over to her, ignoring his own wounds. Kneeling at her side, he checked that she was still breathing and was relieved to find a weak but steady pulse at her neck. He picked her up in his arms and gently manoeuvred her into the back of the car, laying her out across the back seat.

  Grimacing, he managed to get himself in the driver’s seat and behind the wheel. He clenched his teeth, trying not to think about the sodden wet mess at his back as he pressed himself against the leather upholstery.

  After a final glance at Alexa, Tom wiped the blood from his eye, put the car into gear and turned the wheel to take them back in the direction of Leroth.

  The first demon looked down incredulously as its innards spilled out of the huge gash that Trey had opened up in its abdomen. They snaked downward, a grisly pendulum of steaming blood and guts that pooled on the floor, where they were quickly joined by the rest of the body that had once housed them. Trey spun round to deal with the second demon, only to watch as it crumpled to the floor, collapsing like an empty sack, all life extinguished from it.

  Trey looked at Charles and was met by a nonchalant shrug. ‘Weak heart?’ he said. ‘Let’s go, Trey.’

  They ran up the corridor, keeping close to one another now. Passing an open door to their left, they slowed down to look inside. The room had been the scene of death. There was blood, still wet and sticky, covering the stone floor, and all the furniture that had once inhabited the space had been smashed and wrecked, with pieces of it strewn about the place.

  ‘I’m guessing this is where they reawakened the Draugr,’ Charles said, stepping into the room. The smell of death filled the space, and Trey looked around him, expecting one of the creatures to leap out at any moment.

  The room was austere. What little furnishings were present had been pushed out to the edges of the room. The walls were covered with long, ancient-looking tapestries that made way at intervals for elaborate wall lights. Charles moved into the centre, the soles of his shoes becoming covered with the bloody mess there. He closed his eyes and stood perfectly still for a few seconds, swaying slightly. Eventually he turned to Trey with a small shake of his head. ‘It’s not here. The Globe has been here, but it is not in this room any longer.’

  They left the carnage behind and continued on up the passageway. Aware that they were nearing their prize, they moved at speed, forgoing the stealth and secrecy that they had adopted up until now.

  Two doors were set into the wall, separated by no more than twenty feet or so. As they approached these, Charles put out an arm to slow Trey down, and the lycanthrope turned to look at him.

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘Caliban. He’s near. I can feel him.’

  Trey looked up ahead into the gloomy corridor. A chill ran through him as he thought of the vampire, surrounded by his minions, lurking somewhere up ahead, waiting for them. He thought back to the apparent ease with which they had reached this point and how they had only encountered those two guards during their ascent up through the tower. His mind raced and he told himself that this was all part of Caliban’s plan – to lure them in, lulling them into a false sense of security before springing his trap and crushing them. But then he thought of Moriel, and he knew that there was no way the vampire would have allowed them to free the battle angel had he known that they were here. He forced himself to believe that somehow they had not been discovered, that their presence in this place was not known and that it was fear and paranoia that was now paralysing them both, stopping them from doing the thing that they had come here for. He took a step forward.

  ‘Which door, Charles?’ he asked, looking over at his companion and then ahead into the murk.

  Charles looked up at Trey and then nodded. He took a deep breath, his eyes rolling back, and when he looked at Trey again his face was awash with hesitation.

  ‘Which one, Charles? Come on.’

  ‘The first one,’ the mage said with a nod.

  ‘You’re sure?’

  ‘The first one,’ Charles repeated with greater certainty.

  Trey moved forward, his huge frame hugging the wall, blending in with the shadows. Arriving at the door, he reached forward and grasped the heavy metal handle, pausing for a second to look round at Charles and offering him an encouraging nod. He opened the door and stepped inside.

  Trey didn’t know what he had expected, but the room that he had stepped into was not it. It was too normal. It was a large room dominated by a huge desk strewn with manuscripts and books. The walls were filled with books of every size, and those that could not find a place on the shelves were stacked up in great piles on the floor like huge leather-and-paper termite mounds. A glass jar, like those that he had handled in school biology classes, sat on the desk, and as he and Charles
entered the room he could have sworn that the shrivelled fetus-like thing suspended in the clear liquid had turned to look at them. It hung there now, in suspension, staring at them with blank, dead eyes.

  They closed the door behind them. ‘It’s in here,’ Charles said. ‘The Globe is somewhere in this room.’

  They began to search. It was difficult because of the chaos and disorder all around, and not helped by the haphazard way in which they tackled the task, shoving papers and manuscripts to the floor and emptying drawers out on to any clear surface to sift through the contents.

  Trey stopped, standing up straight and looking over at Charles who, sensing that his friend was trying to get his attention, turned to look back.

  ‘How big is this thing?’ Trey said. ‘I’m looking for Mynor’s Globe, and I have no idea what it is or what the hell it looks like.’

  Charles smiled and continued to rummage through the desk drawers. ‘It’s about the size of a tennis ball,’ he said. ‘It doesn’t look like much – just a plain dark glass ball really.’

  Trey looked back at the desk that was now strewn with the contents of the drawers that he had emptied on to it. He carefully lifted up a sheet of paper and pointed to what he had assumed was a paperweight.

  ‘A bit like that, you mean?’ Trey took a step back, half expecting the Globe to emit some kind of magical alarm now that it had been discovered.

  Charles straightened up and looked over to where Trey was pointing. The glass ball was sat on a small black stand that itself rested on a round tarnished metal plate. A smile lit up the mage’s face. He moved round to stand next to Trey before reaching forward and picking up the prize that they had come for.

  ‘You’re a bloody marvel, Trey Laporte,’ he said, moving towards the door and steering the werewolf ahead of him. He put out a hand for the handle.

  The air shimmered and coalesced in the room behind them.

  There was a low sighing sound like poisonous air escaping from an ancient sealed sarcophagus, and Trey felt a sickening pulling feeling in his body. He turned to look behind him to locate the source of the sensation and flinched as the air suddenly became searingly hot, making him squint and turn his face away.