Revenant

by Fergal F. Nally

  Sabine caught Jack’s eye. “I see you have a heavy heart Jack Spence. We’re not here to force you. We can always go back and fight that thing ourselves, I have my bow and you have your fists. I think Raven speaks the truth though. Something has been opened that threatens the Erthe, it needs to be closed. I don’t think a bow and fists are going to do it, do you?”

  Jack looked into Sabine’s eyes, then Raven’s and Tig’s. He looked down at his hands, clasped in his lap. His forehead glistened with sweat, his heart was racing, his mouth dry, his palms wet.

  He looked at Raven and returned her stare. He saw it then, the truth; Raven stood for the Erthe, she spoke for the Erthe, for the mother. He felt the conflict rage within him. He felt the tide turn, but not before a last pang of doubt.

  What was the truth? Could he do this? Why him? Why now? Jack’s thoughts flashed randomly. He turned towards the screen, wishing they had never made it to the Rain Pools. He looked down, his hand reached for the mouse.

  He scrolled down to the icon for missile EPW S4592X/2, his hand shaking. He entered the exact coordinates of the black area which breeched the eastern walls of New Haven. His eyes saw the coordinates being processed and accepted. A launch screen appeared, he pressed execute before he could change his mind.

  A few seconds elapsed, then a message appeared on the screen.

  Launch of Earth Penetrating Weapon S4592X/2 executed: target the Mall, Central Park, Manhattan, NYC.

  ~

  The necromancers’ heart turned in its grave. Their death magic was weakening with the unexpected turn of events. The opening of the slipworld could have helped them; instead the bridge had attracted an army of infected from the mirror world.

  Release them, release the astral daemons, release them…

  The words came as a sibilant whisper. They had considered the astral plane but had favoured the death plane as their source of power. The astral plane held its own darkness, its own magic and was governed by different laws.

  Deep down the necromancers deliberated. They responded to the anger and a newer unfamiliar feeling. Long forgotten, hidden away under layers of age, a seed quivered. From the seed of fear black shoots struck out through the darkness invading their consciousness.

  Fear fed off the darkness and thrived. They had no choice, they sent their summons into the astral plane. The daemons that walked that place would hear their call.

  But the daemons were of wild magic, they were not compliant, not malleable. They would destroy everything in their path. It was a gamble, the merging of the astral plane with death magic would be unpredictable, unstable but powerful.

  The necromancers shivered in anticipation, feeling joy. Victory would be theirs.

  At all costs.

  ~

  Eveline saw the cutter first. She stood high up on the island, amongst the standing stones, looking out to sea. It was her favourite place, she felt at home. Secure, alive.

  In touch.

  “A ship!” she turned to her sister who was asleep in the heather.

  “Kate, wake up! Look a ship, it may have news. Come on!”

  Eveline shook her sister’s shoulder, then jumped up and ran down the path leading to the village and harbour.

  What if there was news?

  She dared not tempt fate by mentioning her father, but his face came to her as always, smiling and laughing. She missed him so much. The path was a blur beneath her feet, her heart pounding, she barely noticed the screeching seagulls overhead.

  That little ship will bring news!

  Eveline’s heart sang.

  Chapter 40: Duality

  Halvdan’s vision surged.

  He knew he was an old spirit, with countless reincarnations over the ages.

  He remembered life before the mountains, before the rain, before the sea. He saw Shiel’s echo as a child, playing at the edge of the fountain that was Erthe magic. He saw a shadow and looked up, it was the Tree of Life, the Erthe source.

  He looked closer. Her leaves were blighted, dead wood lay on the ground. Something was wrong, his heart missed a beat, the ground shook. He staggered, falling to his knees, a drop of rain splashed on his skin, burning. He looked up and saw a dull sky, the sun pale and weak.

  Deeper memory welled up; happiness and joy. Before the mountains, before the rain, before the sea… there had been completeness, love, peace.

  He had been one with the Erthe.

  Unity.

  Then the separation, duality.

  With duality had come endless searching, the pain and hopelessness. Loss. Separation.

  The necromancers were driving a wedge between him and his love.

  A trinity of terror, rage and despair would be born if they were successful.

  Halvdan’s vision faded.

  He would stop them, he was old, older than mountains. He had all the time in the world. He would complete the circle. Duality would recede into unity once more and he would be one with his love, with his Erthe.

  Halvdan’s eyelids fluttered. He saw Shiel’s shoes, he was back on the roof of the Plaza Hotel, New York City. He pulled himself up and stood to face Shiel. He had stepped out of the present, Shiel looked at him, his face frozen in time. Halvdan was unsure if he was in a real or a dream world. He did not care.

  He reached down into Shiel’s body, his hand disappearing into the mage’s chest. He gripped the Mage of Sorrow’s heart.

  And reclaimed his wellspring, his energy, his power.

  Halvdan withdrew his hand, Shiel crumpled to the ground, forgotten.

  Halvdan turned, left the roof and walked with purpose down through the hotel, across the street and entered Central Park to stare into the vast sinkhole that occupied the southern section of the park.

  He looked into its blackness and saw his path.

  For you my love.

  Halvdan threw himself into the sinkhole.

  ~

  A long dormant circuit, far above earth, flickered into life.

  Electronic orders were received. The satellite spoke to the orbiting weapons programme which responded efficiently, exactly as its long dead makers had intended. Flawless execution ensued. EPW S4592X/2 was launched from high earth orbit to the target below.

  Jack watched in horror at the missile’s trajectory on the screen. Sabine and Raven sensed his awe and watched also. Tig turned away and closed his eyes. He did not see the movement at the back of the room.

  Twenty eight seconds later EPW S4592X/2 hit its target. The screen changed colour, the satellite image of Central Park was lost in a blinding flash. A few seconds later the satellite zoomed in on the target and a disembodied voice rang out from above.

  Successful strike of Earth Penetrating Weapon S4592X/2: target the Mall, Central Park, Manhattan, NYC. Confirmation affirmative: target destroyed.

  An image of Manhattan flickered on the screen. The satellite zoomed in on the area formerly known as Central Park. Jack looked expecting to see a huge dust cloud above the city, but there was none. Instead, the land was intact and appeared untouched.

  “Where’s the black hole gone?” Sabine asked.

  “It’s vanished,” Raven said. “The rift’s been closed.”

  “Like a needle and thread,” Jack said. “The missile’s shut it down, the tear has vanished.”

  Jack felt an impact on his chair and turned. A surge of electricity crackled past his head and blasted the desk, sparks and smoke burst from the controls.

  “Christ, what is that thing?” Jack shouted.

  A red sphere hovered above them. A lens embedded in its under surface glittered at them. A dazzling beam of light held Tig captive, the smell of burning flesh filled the air.

  “It’s hurting me, help!” Tig screamed, writhing in agony.

  Sabine pulled out her bow and nocked an arrow but she too fell to the floor caught in another of the sphere’s light nets. Raven ran to one side and hid behind a nearby screen. The sphere pursued her, shooting an electrical charge at the scre
en which exploded into fragments.

  Jack saw his chance. He had recognised the dead man’s switch earlier. It lay embedded in the floor and was operational and exposed; a small green light flickered beside it. He threw himself to the floor, using both hands to throw the switch.

  As soon as he hit the switch the sphere turned blue and fell to the floor, sparks flying from its casing. The room’s overhead lighting dimmed and flashing floor strips marked the way to the exit. The same disembodied voice spoke from above.

  Twenty minutes to destruction of this facility. Advise all personnel to adopt emergency evacuation procedure immediately.

  “Sabine, Raven, Tig sound off! Are you ok?” Jack shouted.

  “Aye,” Tig said.

  “Here,” Sabine echoed.

  “Raven? Raven? Are you ok?” Jack approached the screen Raven had hidden behind. Her leg stuck out from under the debris. He gritted his teeth and reached down to remove a large piece of melted metal.

  “What happened?” A weak voice greeted him, a section of broken screen was pushed aside. Jack breathed a sigh of relief as Raven’s eyes peered out at him, her hair and clothes covered in dust and glass.

  “You’re ok!” Jack declared. He helped Raven to her feet. “For a moment there I thought…”

  Seventeen minutes and six seconds remaining until destruction of this facility…

  “Let’s get out of here!” Tig yelled.

  “Which way?” Sabine said, rushing to Raven’s side.

  “The only sure way is the way we came. For all we know the original exits are compromised. So back the way we came. Quick, follow me!” Jack shouted.

  They made their way out of the control centre and back through the rooms they had encountered earlier. They found the shaft and started climbing its ladder back to the surface.

  Ten minutes until facility termination- the distant voice whispered as they disappeared up the shaft.

  Jack brought up the rear, encouraging the others to keep moving. Sweat poured from his forehead, his arms and legs shook with effort. He was worried about Raven, she looked dazed, he wondered if she had concussion from the sphere’s blast.

  A round circle of light lit up the shaft. They threw everything they had into a last push and finally emerged from the shaft panting.

  “How much longer?” Sabine coughed.

  “Come on, don’t stop now, keep going!” Jack pulled Sabine and Raven off the ground. Tig pushed the shaft cover back in place. They staggered off the island and started swimming for the far shore. The water was cold and revived them temporarily, giving them a welcome burst of energy.

  The shore grew near, Sabine felt stones under her feet and managed to pull herself up and stand. She turned and grabbed Raven who was flailing in the water. Jack hauled Tig onto the shore a short distance away.

  The ground shook violently, Sabine saw the island vanish beneath the lake’s surface. Seconds later the shaft’s steel cover exploded from the water into the sky, followed by a tongue of flame. The lake seethed and sizzled, hot fragments landed nearby. A large chunk of twisted metal smashed into the ground beside Sabine, she stared at it in shock.

  The ground stopped shaking and in the distance they saw secondary explosions in the lake.

  Sabine looked back to the shore. Jack and Tig were standing there.

  “That was my world,” Jack spat on the ground, his lips smeared with blood. “Good riddance.”

  The last of the explosions subsided, silence returned to the lake. They sat dishevelled and in shock. Cold, hungry and numb, despair held them in its grip.

  A sound pierced the air. An ordinary but extraordinary sound, full of normality and hope.

  Full of joy.

  They looked up at the sky and saw a tiny speck flying far above. The skylark’s song reached down and lifted their hearts from the shadow.

  Chapter 41: Reglis’s Last Stand

  The missile flew direct to its target.

  It was made with precision, carrying enough destructive power to annihilate a city. Its guidance system was linked to the satellite, still operational in Earth’s orbit. With deft grace it cut an arc across the sky, breaking the sound barrier. It fell at 880 kilometres per hour piercing the black rift that had breached New Haven’s walls.

  The missile disappeared into the rift.

  The soldiers on the city walls looked down. The black rift vanished and the ground it had occupied, reappeared. The breech in the walls remained.

  Reglis stood on the eastern tower protected by his guards, his colours, gold and green, hung from the battlements. “Where are they? Where is the horde? Their force has been halved! We stand a chance, rally the men to counter attack, we’ll drive the bastards from the city yet!”

  The man next to Reglis saluted. “Aye, my Lord, it is done.” He went to relay the order.

  “Look, my liege, some of them… fight each other,” another officer observed, pointing at the ground forty feet below.

  “That they do, those look different. Their clothes are strange, where have they come from? The rift had something to do with it,” Reglis observed.

  A deep boom came from the north of the city, Reglis turned to look.

  “The mines, Sire. They’ve been detonated, just as you ordered. I hope we’ve destroyed a good number of them,” the officer shouted.

  Reglis nodded. “Follow me, I need to crush skulls and cleave bone. Let’s join the fray.” The king, resplendent in royal armour, turned and descended the steps to the breech in the wall.

  He reached the seething mass of undead, his men had destroyed hundreds of the things with arrows, burning oil and rocks. The royal guard formed a tight knot around the king and swung their blades in a vicious arc, severing limbs and decapitating many of the enemy.

  “Let me at them!” Reglis swore and pushed through his men into the fray. As he did, the undead reacted, turning their attention on him. He fought bravely and with strength, the enemy fell before his blade like wheat before a scythe.

  They kept coming, little by little Reglis was pushed further away from the main body of his men. A small group of knights remained around him and tried to press back through the enemy to the city walls and the rest of their troops.

  Reglis knew it was too late. He looked round and saw the city gardens with the lake and islands two hundred yards behind. “Make for the loch, these things cannot cross water.”

  The king and twenty knights fought their way through the enemy ranks. Their armour took a beating, three knights fell to bodkin arrows raining down from enemy archers. Slowly, they made progress and after ten minutes of fierce fighting, broke out and away from the pressing pikes and swords.

  Reglis looked round and was alarmed to see only seven of his knights remaining. “To me men, to the boats!”

  He lifted his visor and took a deep breath. He was sweating profusely under his armour, his eyes stung. The stench of battle pervaded, blood and spilled guts, a charnel house lay behind them. By contrast the lake was serene, sparkling in the sunlight.

  Reglis staggered down the short dock and boarded a large supply boat, two other knights piled in beside him. A vanguard of five men remained behind, holding the dock against the advancing enemy.

  The knights cut the mooring rope and the two men with the king grabbed the oars and pushed the boat into deeper water. Reglis watched the massacre unfold from the boat’s prow. His loyal knights held the dock for almost ten minutes but were defeated by numbers, the last man fell to a vicious hammer blow, he lost his footing and fell into the lake, sinking from view.

  Reglis turned, they were almost at the island, a sense of relief washed through him. He would have time to think; they would be able to leave the island and rejoin his main force and turn the tide against these possessed vermin.

  “Sire, look!” one of the knights shouted.

  Reglis turned and saw the dock in the distance. His face paled.

  “They’re coming through the water, it’s not stopping them!”
the knight whispered fearfully.

  Reglis made a strange sound. “That’s not supposed to happen. The bastards can’t swim.”

  “They’re … not swimming my Lord, they’re walking on the bottom, see… they hold their blades aloft.”

  Scores of blades came through the water towards them and more undead entered the water with every passing minute.

  Reglis was lost for words.

  ~

  Halvdan materialised on the spot where the black rift had been.

  He stood unaffected, immune to the undead pressing around him. They did not see him, he was invisible to them, their hunger was directed at the soldiers on the walls and people of the New Haven.

  Halvdan stood and waited, something was coming.

  Something else.

  The necromancers were not finished, their evil was palpable everywhere, the air was thick with it. Oily, slick evil. They were up to no good, regrouping… for the mordstreich; the killer blow.

  He waited, watching the waxing and waning battle. The number of undead was drastically reduced by the closing of the black rift. The soldiers on the walls and the bitter hand-to-hand fighting around the breech told another story. Bodies were piled waist high around the breech. Blood lay slick on the ground, soldiers and undead fell and were trampled.

  The battle was silent for Halvdan, he was listening for something else, watching, waiting for a small detail, the giveaway. His eyes roamed the nightmare that was the battlefield.

  And then he tasted it.

  And then its smell followed.

  They were here.

  This was the fight of his life, he raised his hands and looked at the sky. He saw the forgotten return, he felt the thrill of the old blood coursing through his veins. His bones snapped and shattered. He saw his skin change; the hide returning. He felt pain as his shoulder blades erupted, bursting through his flesh, stretching, growing, remodelling vessel and sinew.

  He felt his wings.

  His bloodlust returned.

  Halvdan no longer, but Saheleith.