Stones of Power- Hellstone & Maelstrom

by Jenna Grey

  “I wish I’d brought a jacket,” Finn said, shivering.

  “We can huddle,” Polly suggested, moving in closer to him. She could feel his body heat through the thin dress; he slipped his arm around her, and it felt so good. There were few people about; a couple of people walking dogs and a gaggle of teenagers on bikes, looking as if they were thinking up trouble. They didn’t seem to be taking much notice of Polly and Finn. An old man shuffled past, pushing a shopping trolley piled high with old newspapers and empty bottles. His shoulders were so bent that he had to crane his neck up to see where he was going; it was painful to watch someone so twisted and broken. He settled down in the shadows, tucking his trolley behind a bush to keep it hidden for the night.

  “He can’t sleep there,” Polly said. “He’ll freeze to death.”

  “He’s probably well insulated,” Finn said, “but people shouldn’t have to live like that.”

  “Makes you feel lucky,” Polly said. “For all our troubles we’ve really got nothing to complain about.”

  “Before we go, I’ll slip him a few quid, and at least he’ll be able to buy himself some breakfast,” Finn said. Polly gave him her best smile.

  “You’re an awesomely lovely person, Finn Fountain.”

  He grinned back at her.

  “You’re not so bad yourself. Look, Polly, I want more than anything to be with you, I mean properly be with you,” he said, pressing his forehead against hers.

  “Then be with me. You can’t sacrifice your happiness for Liam – you’re entitled to a life of your own.”

  Finn looked a picture of misery.

  “It’s not that simple.” Polly silenced him with a kiss, and he slipped into it, pulling her closer to him. His lips were soft on hers; he tasted of ice cream. It was a wonderful kiss. He suddenly pulled away and said:

  “Shit – it’s no good, I have to tell you some—”

  He never got a chance to finish. Polly felt herself being wrenched backwards, something hitting her hard, just a dark shape that slammed into her and knocked her back against the railing. She snatched at the metal bar to stop herself toppling over the edge into the water. She was disoriented, lost in chaos as shapes moved around her, fluid and powerful enough to take her from her feet.

  Finn grabbed her and pushed her behind him, standing in front of her as if he were trying to protect her from some unknown attacker. She was dazed, with no idea of what was going on – the force of the blow had winded her, and her brain was addled. For an instant, she thought that Finn had attacked her, but he seemed as stunned as she was by the sudden assault.

  “Finn?” she asked. He had his back to her, pressing her against the rail, his arms stretched to the side to shield her from some unseen enemy.

  “Keep behind me and keep a hold of the railing, it’s iron, it’ll protect you,” Finn said, making no sense whatsoever. Polly looked around, panicked, still totally bewildered.

  “Protect me from what?” she asked.

  There was a terrible sound, a sighing moan that seemed to be coming from all around her. Polly was suddenly so cold. She could see her breath escaping in little puffs of fear-laden mist – the temperature must have dropped by thirty degrees.

  “Finn, what’s going on, tell me what’s happening!” she ordered.

  “There’s no time, just do what I tell you, when I tell you,” he replied, still not turning to face her. He was staring intently at a patch of darkness about twenty yards in front of them, an obscuration between two lifeless buildings. Polly strained to see what he was staring at and then she saw it. A dark shape moving in the shadows. A man? No, it was larger than any man. There was something about the way that it moved which made Polly feel nauseous because nothing human ever moved like that. She had seen this thing before, in the dream she had of Helheim.

  “Finn, what is it?”

  “Something that shouldn’t be here.”

  The old homeless man startled awake and pulled himself to his feet, bewildered by the sudden noise and furore around him. The dark shape that had been moving towards them turned, as if it were only just sensing the old man there.

  “Oh no,” Finn said, “No!” But it was too late. The darkness wrapped around the old man, enveloping him in a shroud of black mist. Polly watched transfixed, clinging onto the iron railing. There was a strange sound, a sound that defied description; it sounded as if it was coming from everywhere.

  “Finn, what’s happening?” Polly asked again, just staring at the patch of blackness, knowing that something terrible was going on inside that darkness.

  The black cloud seemed to uncurl itself from around the figure beneath, and Polly could see something moving underneath it. The shadow rolled across the ground, turning towards them again, and Polly allowed herself to look at the ‘thing’ it had left behind just for a moment. She had to describe it as a ‘thing’ because there were no other words to describe it. What had once been human was now a pile of bloodied rags.

  “Finn?” was all Polly managed to get out.

  And then the bloodied pile of rags moved. The old man was still alive.

  “There’s nothing we can do for him,” Finn said. “Nothing.”

  As Polly looked closer, she could see why. There was hardly anything left of him, his whole body a writhing mass of raw flesh. There was something coiled in front of him. Rope? No, not rope. Polly realised what she was looking at. The man’s intestines had spilt out onto the pavement. Polly wanted to scream, but the scream was trapped in her throat, her whole body paralysed with fear.

  “I can deal with this thing, I promise,” Finn said. “Just do whatever I tell you to do, when I tell you to do it, please.” Polly had no inclination whatsoever to argue with him after what she’d just seen.

  One by one the street lights running along the side of the river exploded with a tinkling of glass, the darkness eating the light as they blinked out of existence. Polly shrieked as one exploded next to them, showering her with glass; she pressed in close to Finn, terrified and blinded by the sudden darkness. She knew that creature was close to them, but until her eyes adjusted, she was quite blind. The black smoke was moving inextricably along the ground towards them.

  For a moment she lost sight of the creature, whatever it was. Then it was there again, and she could see it a little more clearly now, although it still seemed to cling to the darkness. Beneath the creature’s feet, the ground turned to ice, frost spreading outwards, crackling along the ground, the way it did when boiling water was poured on it. Polly yelped as the iron railing she clung onto turned liquid nitrogen cold, and as she tried to pull her hand away, she found that her palms were stuck to it.

  “Don’t try to pull your hand away, you’ll rip your skin off. Wait.”

  Finn put his hand onto the metal and muttered something under his breath. Almost immediately the metal began to grow warmern and she could pull her hand free.

  Polly stared down at her palm in a daze. It tingled, but there was no harm done.

  “It’s okay, I’m fine; it’s okay.”

  “It doesn’t want you holding onto that iron,” Finn said. “Stay close to me while I decide what we do.”

  There was light coming from the street lamps on the opposite side of the river, very faint, like will o’ the wisps in the distance, but shedding enough light on the area in front of Polly for her to see dimly the thing that was attacking them. It looked like a man, at least it had the shape of a large man, but she could see no features, no definition – a man made of dark smoke. In the middle of that awful darkness, Polly could see two pinpoints of light, two glittering eyes.

  The entity had backed off again, just hovering in the shadows, using the darkness as cover. It was afraid, afraid of Finn. Finn squared his shoulders, fists balled, confronting it.

  “When I tell you, run, just run and get the hell out of here, get back to the hotel and go to my Dad, he can protect you,” Finn said. He was shivering, his shoulders hunched, his breath forming a halo a
round his head.

  “I’m not leaving you!” Polly said.

  Finn growled his frustration.

  “Please, do it – you’ll get us both killed! Please, Polly, please. I can’t protect both of us. You’ve seen what it can do.”

  He drew in a breath and the creature, whatever it was, made a noise that could never have been human, charging straight towards Finn. Finn lashed out with his fist as if he were punching the air and the dark shape was flung backwards, hurtling away from them. It hadn’t gone, though – it was still there in the darkness, weakened, stunned, but getting ready to attack again.

  “Run. Now.” Finn screamed at her. “And don’t stop. Get to my dad.”

  Polly hesitated. She didn’t want to leave him, couldn’t leave him, but if she stayed, it might cost them both their lives. The black form was getting ready to attack again. Polly ran, she ran harder and faster than she ever imagined possible, heading back to the lights of the main road. Behind her, she heard the creature scream out its rage, and she risked a look back over her shoulder to see Finn engulfed by the dark shape. She had to get to Bert, get help, had to save Finn.

  She didn’t stop to catch her breath, racing through the streets and ignoring the stares of passers-by. She looked back over her shoulder, terrified that she was being followed, but there was nothing. How could she have left Finn with that thing? How could she not? Finn was right; if she had stayed, it would have got them both killed.

  She didn’t stop running until she reached the B & B, even though her lungs were bursting and the stitch in her side, agony. She hurtled up the stairs three at a time, falling and smashing her shin on the step, so dizzy now she could barely see the way in front of her. She reached the landing, almost on her knees by that time, hammering on Bert’s door. She finally dropped to the floor, unable to keep her legs under her any longer. Bert stared down at the gasping, sweating creature on his doorstep.

  “Finn,” she gasped, “Attacked, by river, some sort of... creature... you’ve got to help him... please.”

  She thought that Bert should have looked panicked, afraid, but he gave a calm nod, helping her to her feet and into Bram’s waiting arms.

  “We should have expected this,” he said. “Polly, you stay here with Bram. I’ve warded the room; you’ll be safe here. Bram, do not let Polly out of your sight, even for a second. Don’t you worry about Finn, my dear, he’ll be fine. I’ll go to him and just make sure, but trust me, he can take care of himself.”

  Polly was bent over double, desperately trying to get her breath back, Bram’s powerful arms the only thing holding her up; her head was buzzing, and she felt as if she was going to be sick.

  “But you didn’t see that thing – it wasn’t human. It killed an old man.”

  “I know,” Bert said, his voice annoyingly steady. “You stay here, and we’ll be back in no time.” He pulled on his jacket and made for the stairs. Polly dropped onto the bed, clutching her tender ribs, and trying to stop the world from doing a waltz around her.

  “Here, have a slug of this,” Bram said, thrusting a flask under her nose. Polly took a swig and choked on it – it was whisky.

  “What’s going on, Bram, do you know?” she managed to get out between pants.

  Bram helped himself to a slug of whisky as well and sat on the bed next to her. He slipped a massive arm over her shoulders in a gesture of comfort; it was like having a sack of wheat draped over them.

  “Well, it seems to me that your uncle knows exactly where we are and what we’re up to. We pretty much knew that already. But dinna worry yourself, Bert and Finn are more than a match for anything he can send at us.” She wondered who he was trying to convince, her, or himself.

  “I’ve had an awful feeling all day. I just knew that something terrible was going to happen. We should have all stayed together. Bram, whatever that thing was, it killed a harmless old man tonight, and we couldn’t do anything to stop it. It just ripped him to pieces in front of our eyes.”

  “Ach, when those things are let loose, then all bets are off.”

  “You seem to know quite a bit about this sort of thing. Are you a magician as well?”

  Bram gave a belly rumble of a laugh.

  “Nay, lassie, just someone who’s seen a lot more than most. Ye dinna have ter worry, though. I’ve known ald Bert long enough to know he’s something to be reckoned with. Yes, I know, Bert doesn’t look like a superhero, but looks can be deceptive. You’re in safe hands, lassie.”

  Polly took another slug of whisky, and it went straight to her head.

  “What was that thing? It was like a man, but just made of black smoke – all I could see were these two pinpoints of lights that were eyes, and there was nothing else.”

  Bram did look very shaken; she wondered just how used to this sort of thing he was, or if he was putting on a brave face for her sake.

  “It sounds like a demon – they can’t take full form here on this plane and have to manifest as some kind of vapour or smoke – well, so I’ve been told.”

  Polly downed another gulp of whisky and prayed that Bert and Finn got back soon.

  Polly and Bram sat in silence, clutching their drinks to them and casting anxious glances at the ugly starburst wall clock. Downstairs they could hear the sound of muted conversation. Liberace, thank God, was taking a well-earned rest. Polly was inordinately grateful for small mercies. She really didn’t think she could stand that right now.

  Fourteen heart cramping minutes later, the door opened, and Finn and Bert came in, both looking very dishevelled, but unhurt. Polly flung herself at Finn, wrapping her arms around his neck and clinging onto him, smothering him with kisses. He laughed, letting her hug him and hugging her back.

  “I’ve never been so scared,” she said. “Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine, just fine,” he said, “apart from being suffocated.” She pulled back a little to examine his face, studying every centimetre of it. He didn’t look fine; he was pale, his face drawn, purple rings under his eyes. Bert didn’t look much better, his hair standing on end as if he’d had an electric shock, his eyes glazed.

  “No, you’re not. You look as if you’ve just done ten rounds with the Incredible Hulk,” Polly chided.

  Bram handed Finn the flask, and he downed a large mouthful of whisky, passing it to Bert, who took an even larger one.

  “We made sure that it went back where it came from – we didn’t want any more innocents getting harmed by that thing,” Bert said. “Luckily the place was deserted apart from the old man.”

  “What about his body? I mean someone will find it, and they’re going to ask questions. What happened to him wasn’t natural. The police are going to want to know what did that.”

  “They’ll probably put it down to an animal attack,” Bram said.

  Polly gave a derisive snort.

  “Animal attack? That’s just crazy. Nobody would believe that was an animal attack.”

  “People believe what they want to believe, love,” Finn said. “They’re never going to believe anything else.”

  When Polly thought about it, he was probably right.

  “But there were some boys there; they saw us. What are we going to say if they track us down and ask us what happened?” Polly persisted.

  “Do you own a vicious dog, Polly?” Bert asked.

  “No, of course not,” she replied.

  “And did you see a dog in the area last night, any kind of wild animal?”

  “No.”

  “Then all you have to do is remember that and massage the truth a little.”

  Polly thought it over for a moment and then realised Bert was right.

  “So, what was it really?” Polly asked. “Bram said it was a demon; is that right?”

  Finn glanced across at his father who nodded his approval.

  “It was a demon; your uncle must have sent it,” Finn said. Polly thought about it for a few moments then said:

  “I suppose he used th
e Hellstone to conjure that up.”

  Bert shook his head.

  “Not necessarily. That was a very pathetic specimen as far as they go, any decent magician could have conjured something like that up. They’re two a penny – but, yes, he may have used the Hellstone.”

  Polly suddenly had an overwhelming feeling of dread.

  “Oh God, was he using it to try and get me back – was it sent for me?”

  Bert didn’t answer right away, and when he did reply, Polly knew he was lying.

  “I don’t think it was a serious attempt, sweetheart. I think he’s just shooting across our bows to warn us that he’s ready for a fight, trying to unnerve us.”

  Polly wrinkled up her nose and gave them both a ‘Do I look that dumb?’ glare.

  “I don’t think we’re fooling Polly for one minute, Finn,” Bert said.

  “You’re right, my dear, I think it’s very likely he sent that thing to try and take you, but he isn’t sure just how much power Finn and I have between us. It’s been many years since Winchard had any dealings with me, and he’s never had any dealings with Finn. I think he might realise now that we’re no pushovers.”

  “After tonight your uncle is going to think long and hard before sending anything else against us,” Finn said. “We made sure we sent a little surprise back with it, a little thank you present to your uncle – courtesy of Dad.”

  Bert chuckled.

  “Your uncle is seriously going to regret upsetting us. You really mustn’t worry, my dear. He’s learnt a tough lesson today.”

  Polly was too numb to take in what they were saying; she just had to be happy that Finn and Bert were safe.

  “I’m still so confused,” Polly said, “I mean, I know that these things exist, but to actually see one. And you’re talking about all of this as if it was just an everyday occurrence? Two a penny? That wasn’t a hired hitman, or an attack dog – I was terrified – I still am. If there is worse than that out there, I’m not sure I can handle it.”

  Finn slipped his hand into hers.

  “And yet, if I hadn’t forced you to run, you would have stayed there and faced it with me, even if it meant your death, or worse. You were terrified, and yet you were willing to face that thing down, no matter what the risk to yourself.”