by Tom Mohan
“What do you make of that?” Ryan asked. Sara saw he’d pulled his dagger out as well.
“I don’t know what to think anymore. Master Eleazar? Does any of this mean anything to you?” She turned to the old weapons master and saw he still sat on the floor, Dana’s limp body cradled on his lap. Even in the dim light from above, she could see his face was pale. “Master! Are you all right?”
The old master forced a smile but shook his head. “I’m afraid my leg broke when yer young friend here fell on me. Too much weight for an oldster’s brittle bones, ya know.” He pulled himself to a more upright position and leaned against the wall. “There be tales of knowledge bearers locked in the nether regions, only seen when their certain knowledge is needed. This here may be such a one.” He moved his leg and groaned. “Ya should follow. Me and yer young friend will wait here. Keep yer wits about you, but don’t kill him unless ya have to.”
Sara looked at Ryan and Kyle, the last members of her shrinking group. “He didn’t feel threatening to me, but I’m not even sure what’s real anymore.”
Kyle laughed. “I don’t think real has any meaning where the dark god is concerned. Real or not, though, we’ll be just as dead if we screw this up.”
Again, Sara couldn’t argue with Kyle’s logic. She looked to Ryan.
Ryan shrugged. “I guess we go see what he has to tell us.”
Sara nodded and turned to the door through which the little man had vanished. “Just once I’d like a straight answer,” she said as she stepped through the door.
The room was small and sparsely furnished. A rough wood table with two long benches sat in the center, and a large oak chest rested against the far wall. The little man was seated on the chest when Sara and the others entered the room.
“You didn’t say who you are,” Sara said.
“And I might not,” the strange man replied. “Then again, I might.”
“Do you ever give a direct answer?” Kyle demanded. Sara had been about to ask that same question.
“Ah, I have an answer. But do you know the question?”
“Who are you?” Sara asked. “What are you doing out here in the woods?”
The little man’s eyes closed to slits as he smiled. “Two questions, but neither the right one. You may try again, or you may leave, and I shall await the one for which I wait.” He shrugged as if to say it mattered little to him.
Ryan pushed his way in front of Sara. “My sister is dying in there,” he said, pointing at the room from which they had come. “She needs help. Can you help her?”
The little man cocked his head quizzically, as though listening to something only he could hear. Then, his face grew sad. “Your sister I cannot help. However, there is one who can, if you are in time.”
“In time for what?” Ryan asked.
“Ah, that is another question, isn’t it?” The strange man slipped off the chest and opened the lid.
Ryan’s face reddened, and Sara grabbed his arm and pulled him alongside her.
“You speak like you are waiting for a particular question, but we don’t know what to ask,” she said.
The man turned and faced them, his eyes boring straight into Sara’s. Though the top of his head only came to her chin, the power and wisdom in his large eyes told her he was more than what he appeared. “If you are the one, you know the question. Forget who I am. Forget why I am here. Forget about me altogether. What is your question?”
“Is Eve real?” Kyle asked.
Sara glanced at him but knew it was the wrong question.
The little man did not even look at Kyle. “That is your question.” His eyes remained riveted on Sara. “What is yours?”
“Why does this keep coming back to you, Sara?” Kyle nearly yelled. “What’s so special about you? I’m a part of this too, you know.”
Sara kept her eyes glued to the strange man.
“Easy, Kyle. We’re all in this together,” Ryan said. He placed his hand on Kyle’s shoulder, but Kyle shook it off.
“Don’t touch me.” Kyle kicked the dirt floor and turned away from the rest of the group.
Sara forced her mind off the distractions and willed herself to concentrate on the task at hand. She didn’t think the old man was playing games with her. Kyle’s question had been close—she’d felt it when he asked. Close, but not quite right.
“Where is Eve?” Sara finally asked.
The little man smiled again and turned back to the chest. “Where is Eve?” he muttered. “That is the question, isn’t it? Come, come.” He motioned for Sara to move closer.
She glanced at Ryan and, together, they approached the little man, who was bent over inside the chest. Rising, he turned and held up a necklace from which a crystal-like red jewel hung.
“Belonged to Eve, this did.” The man gazed at the necklace almost lovingly. “She must have it back.”
“Are you saying we have to take it to her?” Sara asked.
“Eve is with the Dark Lord, keeping him imprisoned with her own sacrifice.”
“She gave herself for humanity,” Ryan said, remembering the story in the scroll.
“She gave her soul. Her soul must be released.”
Sara shook her head, confused. “Released? I don’t understand. Released from where?”
“From Gehenna, of course.” The little man raised his eyebrows as though challenging Sara to question his words.
“But…I thought Gehenna was destroyed in the final battle between Eve and the Dark Lord?”
“Ah, destroyed it is, yet it exists. The battle rages still. All around us, on it goes. Take the jewel, young Sara. For you it has been waiting.”
Sara hesitated. “Me? Why me?”
The little man shook his head. “Wrong question, that is. Take it to Eve. She needs it.”
“How can we take it to her if we don’t know where she is?” Sara asked. “Gehenna is just a legend.”
“The mist,” Kyle said from behind them. “It’s in the mist, isn’t it?”
The strange man scrunched his face into a smile. “Wrong question, that is. Wrong question but right answer.”
Kyle shook his head. “This just keeps getting better and better, doesn’t it? No one goes into the mist and lives. No one. Ever. So, of course, that’s where we have to go.”
Sara was growing tired of Kyle’s attitude. “You don’t have to go, if you’re so against it. Feel free to stay behind and keep the Horde company. I’m sure they’ll appreciate your charming demeanor.” Her words came out harsher than she’d intended, but she was tired and sore and in no mood for her surly companion’s whining.
Kyle glared at her but held his tongue.
Sara sighed. “Besides, the legend doesn’t say that everyone who has gone into the mist died, just that they never came out. Who knows what we might find in there?”
Kyle snorted. “Yeah, well, whatever we find, I doubt it’s going to be good. Gehenna was the home of the Dark Lord, you know. We can’t just go knocking on his door asking for Eve, now can we?”
Actually, that had pretty much been Sara’s plan. She reached out, and the little man placed the necklace in her hand. She slipped it over her head and tucked the jewel beneath her shirt.
“What’s happening in there?” The sudden sound of Master Eleazar’s voice from the other room startled them all. Sara had nearly forgotten the old master and Dana, both injured and helpless.
Sara turned to the open door between the rooms. “We’re okay, Master.”
When she turned back, the strange little man was gone. Sara spun in a complete circle, but he was nowhere to be seen. “Where did he go?” she asked no one in particular.
The man had vanished.
MASTER ELEAZAR LOOKED up as the strange little man crossed the room toward him.
“She asked the right question,” the man said before breaking out in laughter.
As he laughed, the air around him shimmered and brightened. Eleazar remained seated on the dirt floor, the limp form of the inju
red girl still draped across his lap. The little man grew in height and bulk until Lagos stood before him.
“Stupid humans will believe anything,” Lagos said, shimmering in the dim light of the cellar. “Is that one dead yet?” he asked, gesturing toward the girl.
“No, not yet,” Eleazar said.
The girl’s friends had left moments before, after checking on her status. Eleazar had made it clear there was little chance of her survival, but that he would remain with her and do his best to keep her comfortable. The girl’s brother had been nearly inconsolable and had, at first, refused to leave his sister. But in the end, Eleazar had convinced the young man that the quest for Eve was much more important than one life he could do nothing about.
“This is working out exactly as planned,” Lagos said. “I must say, I questioned whether Agibus knew what he was doing, but so far everything has gone precisely as he said it would.”
Eleazar looked up at the demon lord. “John Burke?”
“In the shallow place between Earth and the veil, escorted by Cyrus. Soon he and his daughter shall meet, and then the real fun begins.” His face took on a quizzical look. “You did well, Eleazar. You shall be rewarded in the new world. That I guarantee.”
Eleazar did his best to look thankful. “I am but your humble servant.”
“True, and don’t ever forget it.” Lagos gave Eleazar’s outstretched foot a kick. “Get back to wherever it is you spend your time. You are no longer needed.” The demon turned to leave, and then paused. “Oh, and Eleazar, kill that trash before you go. How you can let it touch you like that is beyond me.” Lagos flashed and disappeared.
Eleazar remained where he was for quite a long time afterward, one hand unconsciously stroking the girl’s soft hair. Lagos was right—everything was going exactly as planned. So why did Eleazar not feel excitement? If all went as it should, he would be back in the real world very soon. Yes, the real world, the world he had been ripped from when death came calling for him. But what kind of world would it be? Certainly not anything like what he had left.
Eleazar sighed and stretched his legs out, flexing his ankles. His broken leg gave him no pain because, of course, it wasn’t broken. How could it be? He was nothing but spirit. Not demon like Lagos or Agibus, nor human like the poor girl who lay across his lap, but the mere leftovers of one who had once been alive. In life, he had chosen the side of darkness, wanting nothing to do with what he had thought of as the God of Goody-Goodies. Even when he had been ripped from the world by a cop’s bullets, he had not regretted a thing. After all, he had lived a long life, longer than many he had known, and the darkness he found himself in had not been so bad. He was a slave to the demons, of course, but they knew how to have fun, and so many members of Eleazar’s former world came into the darkness that he soon had slaves of his own to play with.
All had been well until the day Agibus and his human toy, Caleb Burke, had opened the rift in the veil and brought the kids through. Something about them had created a longing deep within Eleazar, a longing that could not be quenched with the darkness. He had forced himself to be as hard on them as possible, treating them as the puny humans they were, but something about them continued to call out to him. They were as a light in the darkness. Not a bright light, but still a light. Eleazar had begun to wonder how Caleb could use his own granddaughter in such an evil way. These feelings had confused him, caused him to wonder if he might have been wrong in life.
He had continued to play his role, however. To fail at that would have brought a fate much worse than the death that had brought him here. Young Sara had unwittingly played her role just as well. Almost too well. She was not supposed to be as strong as she had proven to be. At first, Eleazar felt a grudging respect for her. Then, as she continued to grow in strength and power, he felt pride. Not simply pride in what he was creating, but pride in her ability to take what he put her through. And not only Sara but some of the others as well—Ryan, Dana, and even the loudmouth, Kyle, had proven to be much more than anyone expected them to be. Sara’s strength would only prove to better serve the demon plan. Now that the time drew near, Eleazar was no longer sure he wanted her to.
“What am I to do with ya?” he muttered to the unconscious girl. No answer came. Eleazar sighed again and closed his eyes. There was no hurry. As he drifted, Eleazar found himself hoping that John Burke was much stronger than any of them gave him credit for.
John Burke’s teeth chattered so hard his jaw hurt. Cold surrounded him, more than just a spring night in the desert. The back of the cart in which he found himself felt like a freezer. The cold radiated from everywhere, but especially from the grotesque forms that sat on the bench across from him. Burke wrapped his arms tighter around himself as the strange wagon bounced across the desert floor.
He lost all track of time as the demon-driven cart crossed the Arizona desert. If Cyrus Whitkey had a destination in mind, he kept it to himself. The demon had spoken little since Burke had been dragged inside the wagon and his ankles chained to a ring welded to the floor. Just enough lantern light filtered in through the open window in the front to allow him some sight. The inside of the wagon, or truck bed as it were, was rusted blue like its exterior, and the walls of the camper shell were covered in cheap brown paneling. More than once his mind had tried to convince him that nothing supernatural was happening. A crazy desert hermit had abducted him—a perfectly logical explanation until he glanced at his guards. There was nothing logical about them.
“Are you still with me back there, Mr. Burke?” Cyrus Whitkey’s southern drawl pulled Burke’s attention from the things that sat across from him.
“Yeah,” was all Burke’s chattering teeth and clenched jaw would allow him to say.
“I apologize for the accommodations, Mr. Burke. But one must use what one has on hand, so to speak.” The demon’s face filled the window between the wagon and driver’s bench. “I trust the company is to your liking?” The demon barked a phlegm-filled sound that Burke guessed to be a laugh.
Without warning, a blinding flash filled the air, and the wagon shuddered and tipped precariously. Burke was tossed from the bench—almost on top of the demon guards across from him—before the chains around his ankles brought his momentum to a painful end. The wagon fell back on all four wheels with a crash, this time slamming Burke against the wall on his side. Through the open window, he heard Cyrus Whitkey curse as he fought to maintain control. Burke braced his feet against the floor and pressed his hands against the roof of the wagon in an attempt to remain in a stationary position. The demon guards, for all their strength, failed to respond so quickly. One ended up on the floor, pressed against the tailgate, the other splayed on top of it.
Burke turned to the window in the back of the camper. Dirt and scrub rushed by in the early morning light as the wagon sped along. Another curse from outside, then the wagon tipped again, and Burke experienced a momentary weightless feeling as, this time, the wagon went all the way over. As the side of the old truck bed slammed against the ground, the momentum of the still-moving vehicle ripped the camper shell away. Burke found himself dangling upside down, his hands on the far side of the bed, one on each side of the wheel well, as he struggled to keep himself from dragging on the ground.
Somehow, the wagon remained in motion. Burke tried to see what was happening, but the dust and debris thrown up by the skidding wagon blinded him. A bone-chilling scream filled the air, so loud it seemed to come from all directions at once. The donkey answered with its own terrified shriek. Burke squinted and saw the shadowy form of Cyrus Whitkey on the back of his beast of burden. Dust hit Burke’s face like a sandblaster, and he was forced to look away toward the back of the wagon where he saw one of the demons dragged from the tailgate along the rough ground. The other demon was nowhere to be seen.
Another blinding flash barely preceded an explosion that engulfed the wagon in blistering heat. Burke raised one arm to protect his face and was slammed against the bottom of the
truck bed. The makeshift wagon spun through the air like a leaf in a heavy wind. His head connected with something solid, and his world faded.
The inhuman scream brought him back to awareness. Aside from that, everything was still. Burke tried to move, but the entire left side of his body and face felt like it had been hung over an open fire to cook. On top of that, the flesh around his ankles was rubbed almost to the bone by the chains that still held him. He lifted his head to scope out his surroundings, but the truck bed had flipped over and now covered him like a steel tent. The tailgate had been ripped off somewhere along the way, and Burke turned his attention to the rectangular opening that provided his only view of the outside world. At first he saw nothing but sand and dried brush, but then came the sound of heavy footsteps and something sliding across the rocky ground. Burke lurched back as a muscled scale-covered arm shot through the opening. Behind the arm came the squashed face of one of his guards. At first, Burke thought it was coming in after him, but one look at the thing’s face told him it was terrified.
What terrifies a demon?
The thing’s fingers dug at the hard ground as it fought to pull itself under the perceived protection of the overturned truck bed. A rush of wind spat sand around the crawling demon. It struggled harder to get under cover, but its efforts appeared counterproductive. It squealed pitifully as it started sliding back out. Then, with a sudden jerk, it was gone. Its high-pitched scream faded into the distance.
Burke knew the smart thing was to remain hidden. He had no idea what was going on outside, but he doubted it boded well for him. Still, he had to know. He slid his body beneath the bed—turning so his head pointed toward the missing tailgate—and inched his way toward the opening. A shadow passed over him, moving so fast he hardly had time to register it before it was gone. His head reached the opening, and he turned so he could peer out, keeping his exposure to a minimum. Somewhere in the direction of his feet, he heard the screech of what he thought was Cyrus Whitkey’s beast as the shadow passed overhead again. Burke craned his neck to get a look, but his brain refused to accept what he saw. The hideous scream came again, rattling the truck bed with its force. Burke wondered at what point his mind had completely snapped as he gazed at the monster overhead.
