by G R Jordan
“There have been more than frog-men down here, “said Austerley. “Someone from our world, at some point.”
Kirkgordon wondered how Austerley knew all this but then realized the blinding light was from a modern flashlight. His eyes fought the brightness and he thought he saw shapes on the wall.
“Russian flashlight, Churchy. I reckon Farthington’s been here. And this room feels special. Hard to describe why, but it does.”
Kirkgordon set Nefol down, propping her against the wall. Austerley turned the flashlight onto the wall and Kirkgordon caught something with his head as he turned towards him. Sharp but heavy, it felt like the edge of desk.
“Just fascinating.”
“What is?” asked Kirkgordon, rubbing his head.
“There’s a history here. It’s very old writing and a lot of pictures. I think it tells about the Elders and also about…”
“Who?”
“Dagon. It seems there’s a connection from here to him. Not one he can cross, apparently the rip between the two worlds has fallen apart, but there is still a small hole remaining, about the width of a person. And they… and this I didn’t know… they feed people to Dagon. I never realized he had this sort of sustenance. That’s why he wants us here. To lure us through the hole.”
“Okay, Indy, does it say who goes through the hole, or where the prisoners are kept?”
“No, but it does say they bring them to the void. And it gives us directions.”
“And can you read them?”
“Of course I can. Mostly.”
“Okay then, time to go find it.”
“What about Nefol?”
“She’ll have to take a back seat this time. I’ve a feeling there might be trouble.”
The Women
Calandra heard the cell door open and instinctively moved herself in front of Alana. Her companion was shaking with cold and had become rather pale. The cold didn’t bother Calandra – it was part of her. She wished she could reproduce the ice that had formed her entire body and see her way out of here, but no matter what she did, it wasn’t forthcoming.
The women had been quiet after their initial swipes at each other and they had taken to simply huddling together. This was more for Alana’s benefit as Calandra had realized that the woman was close to having a breakdown. I thought she’d have been stronger somehow, thought Calandra, especially mentally. In her sleep she’s muttering about her kids or Churchy half the time. It’s going to be difficult to get her out of here, especially if I can’t get my ice back.
A frog-man hopped in through the open door carrying a long stick with a pointed end. He croaked something before prodding Calandra with the stick. She grabbed it, placed it between her arm and side, and twisted violently. The weapon snapped in two and the frog-man hurried out of the room. It re-emerged a moment later carrying a gun.
Calandra found it bizarre that the creature kept checking the trigger and whether its finger was correctly around it. Again it croaked and began to wave the gun from them to the door. Calandra lifted Alana to her feet and helped her to the door. Outside was a cohort of frog-men armed with an array of guns and spears. Calandra allowed herself to be pushed and prodded forward, shielding Alana from any force.
“Where are they taking us?” asked Alana, her frame shaking while her clothing dripped onto the floor. The gown was still so wet as to cling to Alana’s legs. A sense of pity ran through Calandra for this broken woman, struggling to merely keep going. She probably has a right to be angry. A right to curse the world. But she needs to keep moving if she’s going to survive this.
After a few minutes’ walk the creatures pushed the women into a small room and then up against a wall. The room was dark except for the torches on the far wall and empty except for two small gowns on the floor. They were multi-coloured but the fabric was fading and numerous threads emerged from them.
One of the frog-men grunted and the door was closed. In the gloom, Calandra watched who she thought was the head of the cohort. A fat, ugly frog-man, especially rotund with slimy skin. She noticed that he was waving at her and pointing at the gown on the floor.
“What’s he saying?” asked Alana.
“I think he wants us to put on the gowns.”
“Okay,” said Alana. She picked up the one in front of her and began to dress in it. The head frog-man went crazy and one of the other frog-men grabbed hold of Alana and tore the gown off her. Then he removed her other clothing before throwing the gown back at her.
“Bloody perverts,” shouted Alana while hurriedly dressing in the gown.
The head frog-man pointed at Calandra. She stood proudly and removed her clothing before picking up the gown. As she quickly dressed she realized Alana was looking at her side.
“Your side… it’s like ice.”
Calandra nodded. Not everything had returned to normal, then. The frog-man had noticed too and he grabbed Calandra’s gown, thrusting a clammy hand onto her side. Satisfied, he grabbed Alana and stuck a hand onto her side. Alana went crazy, hitting the frog-man with everything she had. But he calmly grabbed her throat and began to squeeze.
Calandra’s gown ripped open across her back as large black wings exploded from her. She launched a kick at the frog-man’s head. It connected and forced him to lose his grip. Two clammy hands grabbed her from behind but were swept away by her wings. Turning, she followed up with several punches to the frog-man’s head before she was jumped by five more guards.
Now being held to the ground, she saw the fat frog-man again thrust a hand at Alana’s side while holding her throat. Then he threw her to the ground, disgusted. The frog-men exited and threw a bucket of fish into the room.
“What’s that?” asked Alana.
“Our last meal, I guess.”
“Is there a cooker?”
“Where do you think we are?
“Well, it’s not the Ritz. And I don’t do raw fish!”
Calandra laughed. “Yeah, I could kill a steak.”
Looking at first like she was going to hit Calandra, Alana began to laugh too. “Yeah, this service is rubbish. No smart tablecloths or place settings.”
“No table!”
“No table. I’m not sitting on my ass.” Alana started to laugh wildly before collapsing on the floor and burying her head in her hands. She drew large sniffs as she fought back the tears. There was a general depression in the air which Calandra could tell was affecting the other woman even beyond their current situation. The walls of the cell had a pungent dankness to them which set the tone for the place.
“Do you know how to make sushi?”
Alana stopped crying suddenly and looked at Calandra. Total incomprehension filled her face.
“Well, we have no fire to cook with so I was just hoping. I mean seriously, we don’t know when we will eat again. If you knew how to we could possibly get something to keep us going.”
“Keep us going for what?” asked Alana. “Who knows what’s next after the froggie perves come back.”
“They mean to sacrifice us. They have dragged us here and now are dressing us in identical robes, in clothing that is too unsubstantial to do anything else but be sacrificed.”
“And you talk about food. Maybe you should find us a way out of here. After all, you’re meant to be the killer who can deal with these creatures.”
“Who said I was a killer?”
“He said you killed them. He said you fought well with your staff, far beyond his ability. He said you had special powers and could make people disappear through signs in the ground. So give me a sign to fly through.”
“Is there anything he didn’t say about me?”
“Yeah,” spat Alana. “He didn’t say he wanted you. He didn’t have to.”
Calandra turned away. Part of her was glowing inside at the confirmation of Kirkgordon’s feelings for her, but part of her was ashamed. This woman had been brought beyond all things she should know or be involved in, and all she could think about was her husband’s pote
ntial betrayal.
“Well, whatever I have it’s not enough. He chose you, he still chooses you. Do you not think I’d have taken him away if I could? But he wouldn’t be him any more if he cheated. He’ll always choose you first. Don’t you see? It’s the one thing I hate about him.”
Alana stared at Calandra, her black hair straggled down her back, greasy and knotted. There was anger in her eyes, a raging inferno which begged to grab a victim. It seemed to Calandra that here was a woman who felt life had just been dealing her one crappy card after another.
“First, he can’t give up on this protection business. Then Austerley takes him down that hellhole in the States. Then he’s dragged back in as they appeal to his better nature and he’s thrust in front of you, all boobs and legs with a pair of wings and an ice box to boot. My man was dragged slowly away from me, bit by bit. And then you put my family into the mix. Why can’t you freaks just leave us ordinary people alone?”
There was no response to make. Calandra could see how Alana thought like this. They say children bring out a deadlier instinct in a woman than anything else. Mothers always fight the dirtiest and the wildest. But it was harsh to have a go. I can hardly turn my looks off, she thought. And if she knew just what my wings had cost me.
There was a loud cracking noise which made Alana jump. Calandra looked around for the cause but then realized that her hand was like ice and as she had clenched it, it had made a loud crack. That was the thing about Kirkgordon, he was running deep within her. She suddenly thought that maybe Alana wouldn’t survive this and she could comfort him when it was all done, become his confidante, his woman. She hated herself for the thought.
They sat in silence, looking up and staring at each other occasionally. The accusation of taking Kirkgordon away from his wife was weighing on Calandra. Every time she tried to deny it, she had to stop herself. Inside she knew it was true, she knew where she wanted to be. And she knew there was part of him that wanted it too.
Still, it may not matter anyway as they were going to be fodder in some sacrifice. Calandra thought of the girl she had rescued from the hydra. She hadn’t been wearing these sort of smocks. No, these were different, which surely meant they were destined for something other than a hydra. With the frog-men’s closeness to Dagon, Calandra wondered if it might be the demon himself.
She missed her staff. If she had it with her she could take on many more of these frog-men. They would be a handful without weapons or ice. Although her mood had died down from earlier she still wondered about how cold she had gone. Inside there was a voice driving her aspirations, and it reminded her of Austerley’s foot. Few people realized the extent of the darkness within her. It seemed that she may be required to call on it for rescue again.
There was a sound at the door and a frog-man hopped in, holding a gun. The face showed an inane grin and he waved the weapon at the women, indicating they were to leave.
“This floor is so cold,” said Alana, but Calandra noticed nothing. Instead she focused on this woman who had made accusations against her about her husband. Why shouldn’t I have him? She’s weak, feeble, he deserves more. There was another voice inside Calandra coming to the fore. Somewhere deep in her mind she could feel the storm brewing, the wind whipping and the snow falling in a crazy blizzard. There was a laugh, cold and cackling.
“Time to deal with her. We’ll have him for ourselves. For ourselves, dearie.”
Perfectly Viscous
“So you know where you’re going?”
“Yes, and by the way I don’t see you being able to read any of these languages.” Austerley smirked.
“No, but I can read a face and yours is lying.” Kirkgordon smirked back. “I’m not complaining, but as I am the one carrying our precious package, I would like to know we are heading in at least some direction and not simply going round and round while our tour guide fails to spot the marks on the ground that I scored into it the last time we passed through. I know that everything looks the same, Indy, but I thought it was only a moral compass you didn’t have.”
“I was merely reorienting us on the correct path.”
“Yeah, right. I thought you were in tune with Dagon, so you should be able to feel your way there, never mind read a map. I hope you’re not staying clear of him.”
“First I’m too eager, and now I’m shirking. Make your mind up, Churchy.”
Kirkgordon reached forward and grabbed Austerley’s shoulder. “Alana is probably there. Don’t make me late.”
He saw Austerley’s shoulder shake before the professor tore off ahead, moving his peg leg as fast as he could. Good, at least he’s focused, because Nefol is killing my shoulder, thought Kirkgordon. The girl was limp as he carried her but he could hear her breathing. All his medical skill, the first aid he had learnt as a bodyguard, meant nothing in this land with its strange animals and dangers. Maybe Kilon could help, but really it might seem as if they were getting careless with the child.
Kirkgordon was feeling exposed. His team was shot to pieces: two missing, one down and Austerley the last one standing, which wasn’t comforting. He was pretty useless in a fight and likely to go off on a bender if they encountered Dagon. Also, carrying Nefol, his options in a fight were limited, but Calandra would never forgive him if he left the girl behind.
As they edged onward along a new corridor, Kirkgordon thought he heard something. Telling Austerley to shush, he laid Nefol down and put his ear to the ground. At first he heard nothing, but then it became clear. Vibrations were coming through the floor, rhythmic and measured, like a small army unit marching. Except there was a resounding thud each time. No, not a thud, more of a splat.
Kirkgordon signalled Austerley to kneel down and approached behind him. The professor looked distinctly uncomfortable, his wooden leg tucked underneath him, but Kirkgordon had a face that looked like thunder. Confidently, Kirkgordon loaded a brightly fletched arrow and drew his bow. He knew the little men that would come alive would fight crazily, but against the frog-men they lasted for only one or two creatures before expiring. Glancing back down the corridor behind him in case of a forced retreat, good news was not available. There was a shadow coming up the passageway.
“Indy, we’re stuck,” whispered Kirkgordon. “If you’ve got a spell or something then don’t be afraid to show it.”
“Have you a vortex arrow?”
“All out. It’s been a bit of a journey.”
“Something’s close though. I can feel something.”
Kirkgordon looked behind him again and saw a multitude of shadows moving and crossing. Meanwhile, his ears heard the constant splat of frog-men on the move.
“I’d like to say this has been a pleasure, Indy, but it damn well hasn’t. I’d say keep behind me but I’ve got a kid to defend, so for once in your life, give ’em hell.” Kirkgordon stood up over Nefol and focused on the corridor ahead, waiting to see the frog-men emerge. He controlled his breathing and settled his body as his mind raced at what was to come.
“Churchy, you might want to look behind you.”
“Shush, Indy, we’ll get to that soon enough.”
“You need to see it now.”
“Shush.” The frog-men came into view. At the same time Austerley began to chant loudly. Kirkgordon drew the bow and aimed at the first frog-man. His fingers let go of the drawstring and he saw the arrow leave the bow, quivering from the force as it flew. And then the wall between the frog-man and himself turned sideways, blocking the creatures from his party and vice versa. The arrow clattered into the wall and fifty tiny men emerged looking puzzled about what they should do.
“Indy, what are you doing?”
“Behind us!”
Turning, Kirkgordon let out the largest expletive of his life. He saw not one but seven heads all attached to a single body. The creature was red and slimy and it glowed in the darkness of the passageway.
“Move the damn wall between us.”
“I can’t,” shouted Austerley, �
�I can’t control that much of it. Deal with the hydra and I’ll keep the frog-men blocked out.”
“That’s your plan? No, you block the hydra and I’ll deal with the frog-men. In fact, block them all.”
The hydra was advancing quickly on its thick-set legs and Kirkgordon reckoned it would be on them in twenty seconds.
“I can’t, there’s too much wall to control.”
“Just do it.”
Austerley chanted again, his hands sinking into the wall. The hydra was almost upon them when the wall shifted and blocked its first attacking head.
“Good, Indy, keep it up.”
“I can’t hold it.”
“Man up.”
“You’re asking me to link through atoms in another dimension and change the reality of this one. I can’t hold on when too much is being manipulated. It’ll lose integrity.”
“What do you mean?”
The floor beneath the pair began to liquefy and roll about like the sea.
“Like that. Sorry, I can’t—”
Austerley disappeared into the now liquid floor, black and dark blue with occasional spots of brightness. Kirkgordon reached instantly for Nefol but missed her as she sank into the liquid.
“Indy, you—” Kirkgordon’s words were lost as he ingested part of the wall, like an acidic liquorice taste, and fought for the air above.
Flopping around in a dark pancake batter, Kirkgordon was turned this way and that by the current. He felt the liquid go up his nose and into his ears as he desperately fought to find the surface. It was similar to being in a swimming pool but with a more viscous substance, and all sounds had become dulled and warped. There was a cry of a beast but it morphed into the call from a faulty tannoy.
His head broke out from the liquid and he gulped air as fast as he could before realizing he was falling back in. A sleek red head with fangs and slanty eyes whipped past his vision. At least Austerley had dragged the hydra into this mess too. Just before he splashed back into the liquid, Kirkgordon saw Nefol bobbing out of the liquid below and flung out an arm towards her. His hand found her collar and he grabbed it tight, hoping that it wouldn’t slip clear.
