by G R Jordan
Looking behind her, Calandra saw frog-men entering the corridor that she and Havers had come from. Calandra scanned the room, seeking a way out, as the figures in the room began to move towards them. There were numerous banners adorning the room, mainly decrepit structures devoid of their former colours, but all hanging from a narrow parapet that ran round the room.
“Havers, out of the stained glass window. We can climb up the banners and round the parapet. Follow me!”
Calandra turned and grabbed the nearest banner, rapidly climbing up its length. As her hand reached the parapet, she looked down to see Havers climbing behind her. He had reached a height of some ten feet above the ground and she reckoned him safe from the horde below.
She hauled herself onto the parapet then dropped a hand down for Havers, but a frog-man sprang up from the crowd and clutched at him. Calandra swung her hand down further and Havers reached out desperately with his left hand, his right still grasping the banner. Their fingers touched briefly but the banner ripped and Havers fell with the frog-man into the crowd below.
“Havers!” A cold feeling tore up her spine but Calandra knew she had to move. In her older days of conflict she had lost many a colleague and it never felt acceptable. But this old shieldmaiden knew how to compartmentalize the pain and take action.
Standing up on the narrow parapet, she began to race along it towards the nearest stained glass window. A frog-man leapt from the crowd up to her height but got the hard end of her staff as a reward. It rocked her balance briefly but she recovered and ran on. The window was slightly offset into the wall and she was glad of this as she reached the alcove.
A black figure with wings and red eyes looked back from the window and for a second she was taken back to the island and the demon who had risen from the sea.
“Bastard! You evil bastard.” She looked round into the crowd hoping to see Havers fighting his way out but there was just a mass of hooded figures. “Sorry, boss!” Calandra turned to face the window, ready to smash it out and look for a ledge on the far side. But without warning she was hit from the rear and tumbled forward. The glass smashed and Calandra, in the clutches of a frog-man, began to fall.
Someone’s Baby
Calandra tumbled forward onto a small ledge with the frog-man holding her tight. They rolled over, teetering on the brink of a large drop. Her ribs felt like they were about to snap as the powerful arms of the creature squeezed her tight, but her staff, trapped as it was by those arms, provided some relief. Leaning forward, she bit into the frog-man’s arm, tearing out a large lump of green flesh. There was a hideous croak and the arm loosened its grip. Exploiting this weakness, Calandra prised the two arms apart and rolled over one last time with the creature. She clutched the ledge with her right hand, staff held in her left, and shrugged hard, letting the frog-man fall over the edge. Her momentary sense of relief was dashed as she felt a webbed hand grab her foot.
She kicked down hard with her other foot, but her arm was in agony. The frog-man was resisting and even managed to place another webbed hand onto the same leg. This is enough, thought Calandra, and she smacked her staff down hard on the creature’s head. The webbed hands released and she saw the creature fall. The drop was more than considerable and it was some five seconds before the sickening splat could be heard.
A further splurge followed as two bulbous eyes appeared in front of her. Another frog-man had been following her progress. To pull herself up was difficult enough, but she would also be totally exposed to her attacker and would surely be thrown from the ledge. Calandra twisted so her left side hung away from the face of the wall and she began to spin her staff in her free hand. Hundreds of years of practice had helped the staff become a part of her and soon the ends of the staff gleamed white hot.
“So long, Kermit,” she yelled and drove the edge of the staff into the wall. The brickwork melted around the end of the staff, which slowly descended the wall with Calandra hanging from it. She ignored the pain in her arms and looked below for an escape. There were hooded figures emerging from the bottom of the tower, some running and others hopping.
Glancing around, she saw that a smaller tower joined onto the one she was descending. Leaning into her staff, Calandra steered closer to this second tower before stopping her descent by jamming her feet against the wall. Pulling the staff from the wall, she back-flipped and landed on the parapet surrounding the top of the second tower. She ran round the parapet without looking back down. On the other side was a large paved area with a wooden door on the far side. There was no one about so Calandra ran up to the door. After listening for a moment, she opened it and stepped inside.
Calandra was in a small closet with perforated walls. The air was moist and humid and steam hung around her, even in this confined space. She peered through the holes and saw a desperate situation. A young woman dressed in a white robe was being led to a platform overhanging a large pool. This was the source of the steam. Above the pool hung a rope, and over twenty hooded figures chanted as the woman was taken towards the fixture.
I can’t take on twenty of them, thought Calandra, but that poor girl’s a goner if I don’t do something. She watched as the figures tied the girl’s wrists up and pulled the far end of the rope, lifting the girl until she hung over the centre of the pool. Large pieces of meat were thrown into the pool which began to bubble and froth. Oh, this is not good.
The hooded figures withdrew quickly from the room through a door on the farthest side from Calandra.
I can’t leave her. Churchy didn’t leave me, instead he came back. Nefol wouldn’t think much of me either if I just ran. Oh hell, I’d better just get on with it.
Calandra pushed open a panel in the perforated hide and cautiously stepped towards the pool’s edge. The woman was shaking, sick with terror.
“Let’s get you down,” said Calandra. There was no response. Okay, let’s try another language. She tried another five languages before giving up. The water continued to bubble and Calandra studied the walls for any point from which she could grab the rope. She had hoped to get the girl back by pulling on the line the hooded figures had used, but they had let the end swing out over the pool. In fact that was puzzling Calandra. There must be some sort of magic involved, because the woman should have dropped into the pool by now.
Around the walls were pictures of creatures. Looking more closely, Calandra saw that there was in fact only one creature depicted, but she had been confused by the many heads in each image. Now she saw that they emerged from one body. A hydra. EOD. Mother Hydra. She would always remember Austerley’s cries in the pub on the island. Dagon’s worshippers were here in force.
The woman was shrieking now and yelled in a language Calandra didn’t understand. It felt like the room temperature was increasing, and the water became violent and splashed over the edge of the pool. There was a smell in the air: dampness, mouldy walls, a fustiness. From her position, two thirds of the pool were out of sight to her. But she felt something behind her. The hairs on her arm tingled and from the corner of her eye she saw something move. Turning, she saw first one head and then a second. Then she was taking in the full aspect of a red-skinned hydra.
Anyone looking at Calandra might have deduced she was sweating in the heat. However, her pallor remained pale, almost white. Her skin was so cold that condensation was forming on her face, at the roots of her hair and across the bare skin revealed by her top. The water dripped into her eyes, but they remained wide open as the full horror of what she was about to face struck her.
One head struck out from the side and took the end of her staff on its jaw. All at once the other heads began to strike at her and Calandra moved with a speed born from hundreds of years of practice and experience. She struck at least four of the heads in the first three seconds before receiving a bite to her thigh. Trying to muffle a yell, she ran to the corner of the room. Resetting her stance, she began to spin the staff, generating white heat from its ends. A head snapped at her and was ta
ken clean off. Green blood spattered her face but she was emotionless as she drove forward with the staff.
The loose neck that now ended in a stump withdrew to the rear of the creature, where the head regrew with amazing speed. I’m just buying time doing this, thought Calandra. This thing could keep regrowing all day.
The hydra was only twice Calandra’s height and a notion struck Calandra. This was a baby, a toddler at best. Let’s hope Mum’s not around. But, baby or not, I doubt I could keep it entertained until the hooded folk come back to make sure it has done its job. I’m going to need to do something quick and effective.
Calandra stopped spinning the staff and held it over her knee. With a swift push down, she snapped it, taking the two pieces, one in either hand. And then she paused in a defensive stance, staring at the creature. The hydra held its ground, assessing what action she was going to take. Then three of its heads turned back towards the woman hanging over the pool, and Calandra struck.
Breaking into an immediate sprint, she ran directly at the body of the hydra. The four heads that remained watching her struck out but she batted them away with the pieces of her staff, scalding the faces. The other three heads swung round to attack but were too late as Calandra leapt and buried the ends of both pieces of her staff into the belly of the beast.
The creature howled with several of its mouths but one managed to grab Calandra by the ankle. It thrashed wildly about with Calandra attached. She sustained some severe bangs to her sides and lost her bearings completely. Her vision was becoming blurred. Calandra fought to raise her arms over her head and then felt herself collide with something other than part of the building.
The girl who had been hanging over the water yelled as Calandra struck her. The rope buckled and then fell limp, causing the girl to fall. With her hands still bound, she made a desperate bid to grasp hold of something but caught only the teeth of the mouth that was holding Calandra by the foot. The strain on its jaw caused the hydra to let go its prey, and Calandra and the girl dropped into the water.
Calandra tried to look through the water but it was too turbulent. Blood was also beginning to cloud the water and Calandra knew some of it must be her own. Normally her blood clotted quickly when it was exposed to the air, but in the heat of the pool her ankle just kept on bleeding. I must get back to the surface, she thought, glad that she had taken a gulp of air just before she hit the water.
The sound of something large entering the pool reached her before she felt the water above pushing her further down. Although she couldn’t see what had caused the disturbance, the sheer volume involved indicated that it had to be the hydra itself. She had buried the sticks in deep, and a dark green colour began to spread through the water.
Calandra kicked hard with her feet and her head caught some of the hydra’s skin. Feeling around it, she found it to be rough enough to pull herself along. Something nudged her side and she reckoned it was a head, but the blow was extremely weak. Then her hand felt a piece of wood and she grabbed one of her sticks, yanking it out from the creature. There followed a modest thrashing from the beast, but Calandra hung onto her position and tried to find the other piece of her staff.
A desperate hand grasped onto her leg and Calandra reached down to find it was humanoid. This meant letting go of her piece of staff but she knew the girl wouldn’t have much oxygen left. Holding the girl with one hand, she climbed up the hydra, which had become very still in the water. Her climbing hand landed on her other staff piece and she pulled it out but had to let it go. As she climbed, the hydra was descending. Calandra kicked away from the creature and swam to the surface. Breaking through, she gasped for air and then pulled the girl to the surface after her. Sucking in the humid air, she swam to the side of the pool and threw the girl unceremoniously onto the poolside. With two hands on the poolside, Calandra pulled herself out and took a moment to catch her breath.
The girl was lying exposed with her robe open and ripped at waist height. Well, she can’t run around like that, thought Calandra, and took off her jacket. Calandra stood the girl up, stripped off the torn upper part of her robe and placed the jacket on her shoulders.
“This is a time to be glad you don’t have my bust,” said Calandra, zipping the jacket up. The girl looked at her, bemused. So, she’s in shock, not really surprising. Grabbing the remnants of the robe, Calandra tied it around the girl’s hips, allowing her modesty to be preserved.
Those hoodies are going to be back soon, thought Calandra, and we need to be out of here. There’s no way back from where I came and this tower must be being searched. I’m still standing though, unlike Havers, poor sod. Let’s hope this girl is a help.
Calandra looked around the room for any sort of weapon, but apart from the pictures on the wall and the platform, there was nothing. Then she noticed two pieces of wood in the green coloured bubbling water, floating towards the poolside. Sweet, she thought, I reckoned you were gone. She took the pieces and jammed them together. To the girl’s surprise, they became a single piece of wood.
“Neat trick, huh?” said Calandra. The girl just looked bemused and frightened. And then there was a knock at the door.
Dagon’s Coming
Kirkgordon sat on the chair close to the window, keeping one eye out the window and the other on the sleeping Nefol. Austerley was still wriggling in annoyance with his foot, its vibration due to the presence of the bogeyman, despite Kirkgordon encouraging the creature to position itself as far away as possible from Austerley. Time was turning slowly as they awaited the return of Kilon. Outside, night had truly fallen and Kirkgordon was beginning to wonder if Calandra and Havers were alright. But he knew his ice maiden would search all night to help the girl lying in the bed across from him.
And we still have to get Alana, he thought. The last time he had left her, things were going better, but that was before Dillingham. The night when he had come downstairs after tucking the children into bed to find her in the skimpiest of dressing gowns seemed far off, as did the kids finding their parents lying together asleep on the floor the following morning.
The physical had spoken for both of them when the words had been so hard to come by. After all, how can you explain creatures in the depths of a grave, men turning into dragons and demons rising from the sea? But he knew what really bothered her. She had always been able to know him better than he knew himself and she had called it. Deep down, he was enjoying the action, the adventure. And this employment from Havers was giving him that kick he had missed so much when he wound up being just a bodyguard. Maybe some professions shouldn’t have families.
“Hey, shadow man,” called Kirkgordon to the bogeyman, “how many people round here wear habits?”
“Habits?” came a voice from somewhere behind him.
“Yes, like monks, you know, holy men.”
“Well,” continued the low voice, “there are several temples whose acolytes would be in white or maybe even red.”
“These are black. And… and… Oh hell! Austerley up! We need to get out of here.”
“What’s got into you?” asked Austerley. “We just need to wait for Kilon and he’ll heal Nefol and then we can find someone to—”
Kirkgordon grabbed Austerley by his collar and forced him to stand. “One of those bastards is hopping. And Kermit’s bringing the Muppet show right here!”
Austerley’s face turned white and he began to shake. “EOD, it’s EOD, Churchy. Dagon’s coming, coming for me. We need to go. Mother Hydra, Dagon! Like before, Churchy, in the crypt. You didn’t look in his eyes, you never looked!”
“Shut up and let me think. It’s too late to go out the front door. Shadow man, watch our tails. I’ll need to carry Nefol.” Kirkgordon slung the girl over his shoulder. Well, it was nothing to carrying Austerley. “We go through the door and turn right down the corridor. We’ll get to the back of the building, jump out of a window and then vanish into the streets.”
Opening the bedroom door, Kirkgordon turned right
and headed down the corridor. He felt Austerley’s presence behind him right until he began to make his way down the corridor. Whipping his head round, he saw Austerley proceeding in the opposite direction.
“What the hell are you doing? They’re coming that way!”
“It’s not me, Churchy. It’s the foot! The foot’s taking me.”
Kirkgordon saw a large shadow loom across the wall and it seemed to grab Austerley’s good leg. There then followed the rather bizarre sight of Austerley on his backside, moving down the corridor towards Kirkgordon and Nefol. The black foot was pointing in the opposite direction, straining against the shadow which was pulling Austerley down the corridor. The result was the professor performing mobile splits while his head rocked back and forward, bouncing off the corridor wall. Damn, that’s gotta hurt!
Kirkgordon resisted the urge to watch the comical side show and continued down the hall, which ended in a cul-de-sac of three doors. He tried the door on his left. Locked. He tried the middle door. Locked as well. The door on the right opened to reveal an empty closet. Checking behind him, he saw Austerley still being dragged legs akimbo down the hall, looking almost white and babbling about Mother Hydra being in pursuit. The black foot was shaking and throbbing as it pulled in the opposite direction.
Nothing for it, thought Kirkgordon, and he gave the middle door an almighty kick. The door was insubstantial and Kirkgordon’s foot sailed right through it, trapping him. Turning his back to it, he battered the door with his elbows and it splintered quite easily. As the last piece gave way, he stumbled over the wreckage and toppled into the room, dropping Nefol from his shoulder. She rolled across the floor.
