by Jenna Grey
“This is Cumudgeon, Mawgum’s cousin. He’s gonna see us safe ter the Citadel. Old Nob knows lots of ways and wherefores to see yer there safe. Come on, chillies, no time ter waste.”
Lily was still too stunned to regiment her thoughts. Connor had already grabbed his sword and strapped it on, handing Lily her own smaller blade. Lily took it, still in a daze and fumbled to fasten it, giving up after just a few seconds and slinging it around her neck. Connor hoisted the holdall, containing Lily’s precious Book of Shadows onto his shoulder and grabbing her hand, tugged her towards the door.
Cumudgeon waited for them to get out into the tunnel, with Nob leading the way and followed up the rear. The sound of the screams was louder now, and seemed to be coming from behind them. There was the sound of metal clashing on metal as well, explosions and bangs. One enormous explosion almost threw Lily from her feet.
“Nob, what’s going on?” Lily asked, breathless.
“We been got at by them bloody goblins,” he called back over his shoulder. “They got into the city somehow and they’re killing everyone. Old Grendel’s dead, Gods rest his soul,” he wheezed.
Lily gave a muffled sob.
“Oh God, I’m so sorry. This is our fault,” she panted. “This is all our fault.” She stopped in her tracks, unable to go on for a moment. Nob turned to her, his usually comical expression gone, his face a moue of misery.
“No, they doesn’t even know yer here. They just went on the rampage. Come on, come on. Nob’ll take yer out through a secret tunnel. Gotta keep yer safe.”
Lily nodded through her tears and felt Connor’s hand slip into hers.
“I’m really sorry about Grendel,” Connor said. Nob wiped a tear from one blood-shot eye.
“He had a good old innings, he did. Them goblins is gonna pay for this. If it takes me last breath they’s gonna pay for all the murderin’ they’s a doin’. Evil bastards.”
They heard a grunt from behind, and Connor lurched forwards as Cumudgeon slapped him on the back to urge him forwards.
“Gotta keep goin’. Aint safe here,” he said, his voice like the rumbling of distant thunder.
Nob led them through and along more narrow passageways, taking twists and turns that left Lily dizzy. She was rapidly running out of steam and had a stitch in her side, but she forced herself on, trying to ignore it. They finally stopped in a small empty chamber.
“You wait here. I’ll go and see about getting us some more weapons. We can’t go nowhere without weapons. Cumby, don’t you go nowhere. You protect them with yer life.”
Cumudgeon grunted, a feat that appeared to require a great deal of intense concentration, and as soon as Nob was out of sight, he planted himself in front of the doorway. Lily sat down to get her breath back, and Connor dropped down beside her. They could still hear the sounds of mayhem, but it seemed a little more distant now, every time a scream rent the air, Lily felt her heart stop in her chest and she felt just a little more of her spirit die.
“Despite what Nob said, I think this really is our fault. It’s too much of a coincidence,” Lily said, her voice hitching and very close to tears. One renegade tear escaped and slid down her cheek and she brushed it aside quickly, angry with it for betraying her.
Connor wrinkled up his face in a troubled frown.
“Maybe not, but I feel bad about running away. Perhaps we should stay and fight. With our power we might be able to save a few lives.”
Lily thought about it for a moment.
“Would we be able to? I mean, could we stand against an army?”
Connor gave a long sigh.
“With Solomon’s ring we could, we can, but now… I don’t know.”
Nob came back within just a few minutes, loaded down with an array of weapons, that all but buried him. He could barely stagger along under their weight. He began to unburden himself, handing out the weapons. The crossbow he gave to Connor, a gigantic axe to Cumudgeon, a small dagger to Lily, and a smaller axe that he kept for himself.
“Best I could do. It’s bad back there. I don’t even wanna think about it.”
His face was milk pale, his eyes wide with shock. Lily didn’t want to think about it either. God only knew how many people were dying, and there was nothing they could do about it.
They began their journey through the tunnels again, but had only gone a short distance when Connor pulled them to a halt.
“Wait,” he said. “Nob, we’re heading towards trouble.”
Nob gave a dismissive wave of the hand.
“No, old Nob knows the way, don’t you worry about that,” he said.
Connor grabbed his arm and pulled him back.
“That’s not what I said. Listen to me! Nob, the screams are getting louder!”
Nob cocked his head on one side and peeled back the layer of greasy hair to reveal one huge hob ear. It twitched a little and his eyes grew wide as he picked up the sounds that Connor and Lily heard.
Somewhere to the right of them she could hear screams and the sound of nerve jangling laughter… and they were getting closer to it.
Connor pulled the crossbow from his shoulder and thrust it at Nob.
“This is no good to me.” He drew his sword, though, and Lily followed suit, drawing the smaller sword from her belt. She had no idea what to do with it, she’d never wielded a sword in her life, but surely Connor was going to use magic and not rely on primitive weapons to attack the enemy?
They turned the corner and were confronted by a sight that made Lily’s knees weaken. The sounds they had heard came from no goblin. Lily had no idea what the creature in front of them was, but it was like nothing she had ever seen before.
“Rawhead and Bloody Bones,” Connor said, paling.
The creature stood eight feet tall, from massive bulbous skull to boat-sized feet. The stench that emanated from it was vile, a mixture of rotting flesh and raw sewage, the whole of his body seemed to be decaying, his flesh rotting from his bones, the glimpse of ivory clearly visible through his putrefied flesh. It’s head was raw skull from the eyes up, or rather the eye up, because one of them was a red ruin, nestled in a face that was nothing but a decaying mess of flesh. At his feet were several hobgoblins’ bodies, entirely stripped of flesh, their carcasses nothing but a raw meat. Lily watched in horror as Rawhead reached down towards one hob, who appeared to still be clinging onto life, even though his throat had been cut from ear to ear; he lifted the poor creature up by one leg, dangling him in the air. Blood cascaded down from the fearful gash in the poor hob throat, like a waterfall, showering Rawhead in red rain. With one razor sharp talon the monster slashed the hob from shin to chin, turning him like a spinning top and flaying him alive. There was a terrible sound like tearing fabric as he ripped the flesh from the poor little body and dropped the corpse into the dust onto a pile of his fallen brethren. Then the monster carefully picked through the pile of bloody flesh, choosing the pieces that suited him, as if he were choosing what to wear for the day. Satisfied with his choice he laid the strips of flesh he had taken from his victim over his own decaying flesh, pressing it over the suppurating wounds like a band-aid. The new flesh seemed to meld itself into the dying flesh, patching up the gaping wound and showing an even layer of new, stolen skin. Lily realised then that his whole body was made up of a patchwork of different skin shades, all flesh stolen from his hapless victims.
Lily felt the bile rise in her throat, as the creature bent down and plucked an eye from one of the hobs, poking one huge fingernail into the socket, and gouging it out. He held the bloody globe in his hand and lifted it to his face, turning it around in his fingers to see that it met with his approval. Satisfied, he pressed the eye into the empty eye socket and blinked a few times.
Lily let out a little gurgle of terror as Rawhead turned its malevolent on stare her, his mismatched eyes, one red and one blue, making his face seem lopsided.
“Oh more toys to play with,” it said, a blast of nauseating breath wafting across to
them as it pulled back its blood stained lips to reveal rows of dripping fangs. “And pretty ones too...” Lily caught a flash of his thoughts, and what she saw there made her feel faint. Between her and Connor Rawhead was seeing enough new flesh to cover half his rotting body.
“Not today, abomination. Today, we do the playing,” Connor said, and there was such rage in his voice that Lily felt it ripple through her.
“You won’t take us so easy,” Nob said, brandishing his axe. “You come near us and I’ll take yer kneecaps off!” He stood, braced for battle, holding the axe up in front of him and giving a growl deep in his throat and with one great paw batted Nob and sent him flying through the air to land in a dazed heap, upside down against the wall.
“This isn’t your fight, Nob. We can deal with this piece of filth,” Connor said, dropping the sword and standing ready for battle. Nob pulled himself upright, staggering and dazed, a great bloody gash in his forehead where he had slammed so hard into the wall.
‘Are you sure about this?’ Lily thought to Connor. ‘Cumudgeon could probably take him.’
‘No,’ Connor thought back. ‘I won’t risk anyone else’s life if we can do this ourselves’.
Cumudgeon had already lumbered forwards, ready to fight, the great axe poised above his head, ready to deliver a death blow. He was wading across the floor through the slurry of blood and hob body parts that almost covered it entirely. He swung the axe, aiming straight for Rawhead’s head, but the momentum of the blow sent him flying backwards as he slipped on a piece of discarded flesh. He went flying backwards, the axe still clutched in his hand and landed flat on his back, grunting his surprise. He pulled himself upright again, covered in blood and slurry, and made to charge again.
“Come and try me then, bone head,” Rawhead taunted. “I could cover myself with your pelt, a nice whole meat suit...”
“Stay back Cumudgeon,” Connor ordered. “We can deal with this. We need your strength for other foes.”
Cumudgeon hesitated, still looking as if he was going to charge.
“Do as he says, Cumby,” Nob said, staggering slightly and clutching his bloody head. “There’s gonna be plenty of goblins and trolls ter fight outside.”
Cumudgeon reluctantly fell back, grumbling his disapproval.
Connor stood his ground, facing the monster, who was eyeing him with curious disdain.
“So you think a little shrimp like you can topple me, then do you?” He began to laugh, the walls echoing with it.
“There’s a story of old in Midgard that tells of a young boy who killed a giant bigger than you with just a single stone. Don’t judge me by my size!” Connor tossed back, his face set in grim resolve.
Lily stood, ready to call on her strongest magic, but she had no real idea how to do it, or who she should call on. In desperation she called on Hecate, who had never let her down, but she had no idea if she would hear her or come to their aid. Connor closed his eyes and began to intone in a soft but determined voice, and to Lily’s surprise, Rawhead just stood there watching with an amused expression on his face.
“I call upon the Powers That Be to grant me vengeance on these innocents,” Connor said, and then began to speak in a strange tongue that Lily had never heard before. Even if Rawhead couldn’t feel the power in them, Lily could. These words were ancient magic from the dawn of time, long forgotten by all but the highest of the She.
Rawhead was laughing hard now, a terrible laugh, that sounded as if it had come from the very depths of Hell. It was obvious that he was thoroughly enjoying the sight of the pathetic little fey in front of him, who even dared to imagine that he could stand against him.
Lily felt, rather than saw, Connor’s aura change, from the usual brilliant blue silver to a darker blue, then to purple and finally to deep velvet black. The dark power poured from him in great rippling waves, invisible to the others, but clear and vibrant to Lily. It cloaked Connor, a moving living energy that made her skin prickle and then sizzle.
She could tell that Connor hadn’t expected to be able to call this kind of power, and he staggered back, reeling under the great weight of arcane energy that suddenly hit him.
“Get away from me, Lily, Keep back,” he called, almost toppling, but just managing to keep upright.
Rawhead had retreated, the smile gone from his face now, his eyes widening as he realised that something was happening that might be just a bit more than he could cope with.
Connor seemed to regain some control, although he was still swaying, a glazed expression on his face as if he were just operating on auto pilot and not really aware of what was going on around him. He raised his arm and aimed a blast at the creature before him. As the power left his hand, the kick back was so great that it propelled Connor backwards, slamming him into the wall, and almost knocking him out. The blast hit Rawhead square in the middle of his chest and seared a hole the size of a dinner plate straight through him. Rawhead staggered backwards, a look of surprise on his face, staring down at the empty space where his heart should have been, but instead of dropping he just kept coming, not towards Connor but towards Lily. Whatever magic kept this terrible creature animated was beyond Lily’s comprehension. Nobody should have survived that blast, should be still alive without a heart beating in his chest, and yet here he was heading towards Lily, with murder in his mismatched eyes.
Connor had recovered his footing now, and made his way to Lily, to put himself between her and Rawhead. Lily grabbed Connor’s arm, and felt that dreadful power contained within him pour down her arm and course through her body. She had no idea what she was doing, or how she was doing it, but could feel that power, and she knew that if she didn’t do something with it, then it was going to consume her. She raised her hand and aimed a blast at the creature’s head. As the magic left her hand she catapaulted backwards, and it was only Connor grabbing her that stopped her from being hurled across the room. She watched in utter astonishment as the black fire caught him straight in his open mouth and his head exploded into nothingness. It happened so quickly, between heartbeats, that for a moment Lily didn’t quite understand what had happened. One moment there was a head on the creature’s shoulders and the next moment, there was nothing. Rawhead still stayed upright for a moment, as if he didn’t realise that he no longer had a head, and for one awful moment, Lily thought that he was going to still keep coming at her, but he suddenly toppled forwards into the dirt.
Connor dropped at almost the same moment the creature did, and he lay very still. Lily pulled him over onto his back and looked down at his impossibly pale face. He looked as if he was dead, his face slack and lifeless.
“Connor?”
There was no movement, no sign of life, and Lily felt her heart make a frantic leap in her breast. She leaned forwards and put her ear to his mouth; she heard the faintest sound of breath sigh from his lips.
Nob seemed as shaken as she was, literally, his hands trembling so badly he could hardly hold his axe. He slung it back over his shoulder and knelt down next to Connor, still keeping one wary eye on Rawhead’s corpse, just in case.
“I wouldn’t put anythin’ past that one,” he mumbled, still sneaking odd glances. “I think the master’s all right, just taken the wind outta his sails. I aint never seen magic like that before.”
“Neither have we,” Lily said and realised that she was shaking as well. She felt so tired, and so strange, the residue of that awful energy still pulsing through her. It felt as if a million ants were nipping at her skin, and she could hardly concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other, let along anything else.
Nob was clutching his bleeding head, and Lily gently placed her hand over the wound to give him some healing. Nothing happened. Lily tried again, but still nothing. She swallowed the lump of fear that had lodged in her throat and said:
“I don’t feel any of my own power, only what’s left of that terrible darkness. Whatever it is that Connor called on seems to have totally drained me. I don’t f
eel any fey magic in me at all.” The horror of it suddenly impacted on her and she broke down.
“No time to worry about that now, Mistress. We gotta go,” Nob said. He opened up the huge sack that he’d brought with them from Lily and Connor’s room and began throwing things out of it, willy-nilly, leaving just the royal clothing and a few other bits and bobs in it. He slung the sack over his shoulder, almost disappearing under it.
From behind them they could hear the sound of pounding feet and fierce cries. More of the enemy must have heard the sound of the fight and were racing towards it, hoping to get some action.
“We gotta get out of here,” Cumudgeon said. “I can carry him.” Cumudgeon unceremoniously hoisted Connor up and threw his limp form over one shoulder, the battle axe dangling from the other. He took the sack from Nob and threw the rope tie that bound it around his neck. Lily picked up the holdall and almost fell over ‒ she had never felt this weak and helpless in her life. Whatever that magic was, it had drained her not only of magic, but physical strength as well.
They began their journey through the tunnels again, taking twists and turns that left Lily totally lost and disoriented. Behind them the sounds of death and mayhem gradually died away, and then all she could hear was the sound of her own laboured breathing and the blood pounding in her ears.
They finally came out into the open air. Lily let out a great sigh of relief as the icy cold air hit her lungs, bright sunlight replacing the oppressive darkness of the tunnels. Floating over the air, from some distance away, Lily could still hear the sounds of screams and battle cries. She tried to shut her eyes to it, but couldn’t. Nob turned back towards the tunnel entrance and said:
“We needs to seal this up. Cumby, put the King down and get yer back behind that there boulder.”
Cumudgeon whipped Connor off his back and dropped him in the snow as if he were a sack of coal and made his way to the great boulder that lay at the side of the entrance. Lily went over to Connor and tried to see if she could feel a pulse at his wrist. There was one, but it was thready and erratic. He looked so pale, a strange grey colour and he really did look as if he was dead, despite the tell-tale signs of life.
