by Rachel Ford
Now, the vessel barely swayed, and the wind’s complaints were mild. The earth had ceased its rumbling, too, and the lightning came but sparsely. Still, Jack thought it wise to keep well clear of Krampus. So he flew in a wide arc around the demon and headed straight for the lesser demons lining the walls and manning the murder spouts.
From above, he could see what he’d only guessed at from the ground: great melting pots bubbling away with liquid candy coating sat perched at the ready, just waiting for the invading army to approach. Little goblins in aprons, and tall bone men in nothing at all stood with their hands poised on the control levers.
Jack readied himself behind his own station, and urged the reindeer, “Hold this position.” To Er’c, he called, “You ready?”
The orc nodded. He had shouldered the blunderbuss, and already had it lined up with a target. “On your command, Jack.”
Jack grinned, swiveling the barrel of his cannon toward one of the monsters. “Go.” His cannon was operated by a pull cord, and he was pretty sure that only worked in cartoons and videogames. But this was one of those areas where he chose not to be overly critical of details. He pulled the cord. A terrific bang sounded, and an odd, flaming orb burst out of the mouth of the cannon.
“Feuerzangenbowle shot,” Er’c said, appreciatively.
“What?”
“Flaming punch. The sugarloaf is covered in rum and burned over mulled wine. It sweetens the punch in a nice, caramelly way. A very pleasant holiday drink, actually. When it hasn’t been weaponized, at least.”
Jack was about to ask what good flaming punch would be, but his shot hit first. The mug shattered on impact and scalding hot liquid and shards of glass pelted the nearest victim. But worse yet, a flaming cylindrical item shot out of the mess, planting itself squarely in the chest of another demon.
Jack stared in wonder. “What the heck just happened?”
“That was the sugarloaf. You don’t want to be on the receiving end of one of those,” the orc said with a sage nod of his head. Then he returned his attention to the sights of his gun and started firing away.
Jack had only the vaguest idea of what Er’c meant. The flaming projectile, he’d gathered, was the sugarloaf. The entire round was some kind of holiday punch in a deadly mug. He’d never heard of it, but he figured it was yet another ham-fisted attempt at cramming holiday-themed nonsense into the DLC.
But, he didn’t care. He still had a cannon, and it still did serious damage. So Jack fired away, picking off one after another of the bad guys.
They weren’t quite obliging enough to just sit there while he fired. After the first few bought the farm, they started shooting back. Some had bows and arrows, and others shot molten candy bombs his way.
A new health meter popped up, informing Jack of the sleigh’s overall condition. And the game offered a helpful hint:
If the sleigh is destroyed while you’re in the air, you will die.
Jack rolled his eyes. “No sugar.” Still, he went on firing, breaking only long enough to move the sleigh now and again. And one after another, Krampus’s candy crew perished – either washed away in the fiery holiday beverage or peppered with candy shot by Er’c.
The game informed him that he’d completed his objective, and added a new one:
Krampus is retreating to the inner sanctum of his lair. Find him, and destroy him.
Throwing a glance around the battlements, Jack confirmed what the game told him: Krampus had disappeared. So he flew the sleigh as near as he could get to the great doors and touched down. Frosty stirred a little at the landing but remained asleep.
Jack was glad of that. He didn’t want to bring a baby into battle, but he didn’t have time to fight with the little dragon either. Winter’s armies were pushing through, and he had to join them. So he and Er’c jumped out and followed the throng. Somehow, all of his companions had found him, and they all clustered around him.
“Come,” Ceinwen said, “he’s headed to his lair deep within the castle. He might have a means of escape. We must find him, Jack, and put an end to him once and for all.”
Jack nodded. “Right. Let’s go.”
He didn’t actually know the way, though, so he stood back for half a step – and smiled. His companions had the coordinates programmed into their knowledge database. So in quietly and unobtrusively letting them take the lead, he’d save himself the misery of fighting his way through a hundred dead ends.
At least, if all went according to plan, anyway.
Chapter Twenty-Four
It did. Karag and Ceinwen in turns guided them through a labyrinth of passages leading deep into the castle. Each turn seemed to get darker and colder than the previous, each hall grew grimmer and grislier.
Jack nearly jumped out of his skin when they traversed a hall full of gargoyles and hideous statues – and all at once, the stone demons sprang to life. It was a grim fight, too. The monsters were strong and could deal a lot of crushing damage with a single successful strike.
But together, the team persevered, and they went on. The way started to seem endless to Jack. He wondered if his clever scheme had been so clever after all. Had his companions simply got them lost? Had they spent the last half hour blindly stumbling around in circles?
And then, with no warning whatever, they stepped into a massive chamber. An iron gate slammed shut after them, barring the way back. Krampus’s voice filled the room, echoing off the ceilings and walls. “Winter’s little stooges: how far you’ve wandered from your master’s sight.
“You have caused me much suffering, Jack. But I promise you, I will repay a thousand-fold what you have given. You will rue the day you were born. You will curse your wretch of mother with your dying breath, for ever having brought you into this world so that you could know the suffering you will know. You will –”
“Enough already,” Karag shouted. “You boast much for a man whose army lies in ruin. Show yourself, you coward.”
But Krampus didn’t show himself. Instead, he laughed long and menacingly. “You will see me soon enough, my gangly friend. And once I’ve whittled you down to size, you may repent your hasty words.”
Then, all at once, Jack felt the floor give out underneath him. He was plunging downward, further and further into a seemingly endless darkness. He had the horrible feeling that he’d come all this way just to die in a pit a thousand feet below the surface.
But Jack didn’t die. He landed a moment later. The impact siphoned off about half of his health, but he remained very much alive. He heard thuds all around him. “You guys alright?”
“I’ve been better,” Arath’s voice replied.
“I’ve got a real score to settle with this fellow,” Karag answered. “I can tell you that.”
“Me too,” Ceinwen said.
“Er’c?” Jack asked. “Migli? You alright?”
“Shimmerfax, whinny if you can hear us and you’re alright,” Ceinwen said.
But other than the sounds of their own breathing, the dark shaft remained utterly silent. “He split us up,” Jack realized.
“I am really beginning to detest this man,” Karag said.
“Beginning?” the ranger snorted. “You said you wanted to kill him.”
“Yes. But I fail to see the connection. I’ve killed many men I did not despise, or even particularly dislike.”
“At least you admit you’re an assassin.”
“Did I say I did? I meant, I’ve heard of men who did.”
Jack rolled his eyes – which was, he figured, about as useful a move in the dark as Karag continuing to deny that he was a spy and an assassin. “Right. Let’s move, though. We’ve got to find the others.”
“Certainly. But where are we moving to?”
“I…don’t know. Just, let’s move, until we find a way out.” They all complied at once, and were all rewarded for the effort with trampled toes and elbows to the face, and inadvertent shoves this way and that.
Jack scowled into the da
rkness after someone’s elbow impacted with his nose. “In different directions, dagnabbit.”
This time, a little more slowly and carefully, with hands outstretched to guide them before any collisions, they proceeded. Jack reached a cold, stone wall at about the same moment Arath said, “Well, I’ve got a wall.”
“Me too,” Ceinwen said.
“Me as well,” the giant agreed. “It seems to be following a concave arc.”
“Yeah, I don’t know what that means,” Arath said, “but I think we’re inside a circular room.”
“That’s what that means.”
Jack felt his way along until he ran into Ceinwen. Then, he urged her to stay put as a kind of marker and made a full circuit of the wall. With a sinking feeling, he stumbled back upon the elf. “You don’t think he means to leave us to starve to death, do you? We’ve nowhere to go. There’s no doors, no way out. He could just leave, couldn’t he, and forget all about us?”
“I doubt it. He sounded more interested in torturing us. I think he’ll be back to fish us out, probably one at a time.”
Somehow, the giant’s words didn’t comfort Jack much. But his next offering turned out to be even worse. A horrible grinding sound echoed down the chamber. Everyone demanded at once to know what in creation was happening. Karag provided the answer. “There’s a crushing plate descending on us.”
Jack stared into the darkness in the direction of the other man’s voice. “A…what?”
“A large and heavy piece of iron molded to the dimensions of this shaft, that will doubtless squash us flat if we do not find a way out of here before it finishes its descent.”
“Wait a minute, it’s dark. How do you know that?”
“Because I can feel it?”
Three horrified gasps sounded at once. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, it’s already at the height of my upraised arms. So I can only urge that we put off further questioning, and find a way out of here, Jack. There’s got to be a passage or something, perhaps nearer the floor. Krampus has more in store for you than an immediate death, even a painful one. I’m certain of that.”
Jack scrambled back to the walls. So did his companions, if the ringing of their boots against the stone floor was anything to judge by. The grinding sound kept on going. Jack felt beads of sweat crawling down his face and back as he scurried around the room, feeling for passages near the floor.
“Hurry,” Karag urged. “I’m kneeling, and it’s already pressing down on me.”
Jack crawled faster. He’d gone about a third of the way around the room when his hand reached for stone and found only thin air. “Found it,” he called, breathless with excitement.
“Go, Karag. You first; you’ll be crushed before any of us. Follow Jack’s voice,” Ceinwen directed.
“To heck with that,” Arath said, careening past Jack and into the tunnel.
A moment later, Karag reached Jack, and squeezed and grunted and hauled himself through the opening. He called out, “I’m in.”
Ceinwen had been on his heels, and said, “Go, Jack.”
“You first,” Jack said. He wasn’t exactly a captain about to go down with his ship. But neither was he going to leave one of his party behind to be squashed like a bug.
Ceinwen started to move. He could hear her boots scraping the floor. Then, something cold and hard pressed against his head. Shit.
Jack dropped to his belly and pulled himself into the tunnel. He didn’t care that he was at risk of getting a boot to his face. He’d take a broken nose over being mashed like a potato any day of the week.
He squeezed through just in time. A second later, the plate hit the floor with a deafening clatter. Then the grinding noise began anew, growing more distant with each passing moment. It was, he realized, the plate returning to its starting position.
“We’ve got a problem,” Ceinwen said.
“You think?”
“The tunnel doesn’t go anywhere.”
“What? How do you know?”
Karag’s voice answered. “Arath’s stuck at a dead end, ahead of me.”
“Let me out,” the ranger’s voice screamed, high and frantic. “Get out of my way, drat you.”
For a moment, Jack found himself confused by the dull thudding sounds that followed. But then Karag said, “Ow. Stop it, Arath. I can’t go yet. Ow.”
“Back up,” Ceinwen urged.
So, terrified that the plate would swoop down to crush him the instant he stepped a foot out of the room, Jack did back up. The plate seemed to continue its upward climb, and a moment later Ceinwen followed him out of the tunnel. Then, cursing and threatening to throttle the ranger, Karag emerged.
Finally, Arath himself stumbled onto the scene. It was a stumble, too. Jack was sure of that. It sounded like a heavy sack dropping, and then being picked up and dropped a second time. The other man spoke in frantic tones, too. “My gods, we’re going to die here. He’s going to kill us all. My gods. My gods! Don’t you people realize what’s happening?”
“Arath, you need to calm down,” Jack said.
“Calm down? Have you lost your mind, man? He’s toying with us. This is a sport to him. And you want me to be calm?”
“Yes,” Ceinwen said. “If we’re going to get out of here, we need to stay –”
“You think he’s going to let us go? You’re all insane.”
Jack attempted a few more useless pleas, and Arath kept on ranting. Finally, Karag asked, “Can I just kill him?”
“Wait,” Jack said. “Hold on. Everyone, be quiet.” Everyone but Arath complied. The ranger kept on screaming out doomsday prophecies. But over the other man’s words, they heard an eerie sound: silence. The crushing plate had apparently returned to its origin point.
But then came the sound that Jack feared: the grinding of metal on stone, and the screeching of gears began anew. “Sugar. Everyone, back to the tunnel.”
That was easier said than done, for two reasons. The first being that they’d all gotten a little turned around in the darkness, and they needed to find their way again. The second was that Arath was stumbling blindly through the room and screaming loudly – apparently completely impervious to their impending danger.
After attempts at reasonable persuasion failed, Karag followed the sound of his voice and seized the ranger. Dragging him over to the rediscovered cubbyhole, he tried to shove the other man inside. But Arath would have none of that. He screamed and protested, bit and scratched, kicked and shrieked. Finally, the ceiling fell so low that the giant had to retreat, leaving the ranger behind.
Jack and Ceinwen remained as long as they could, trying to pull Arath into the tunnel. They almost got him. But, when he was about halfway into the passage, he unleashed a savage torrent of blows upside Jack’s head. Momentarily discombobulated, Jack lost his grip.
Still, he scrambled out after him, shouting for Ceinwen to stay put. But he didn’t get far; by now, the ceiling had dropped so low that crawling proved difficult. And it was only with an effort that he managed to get back to the tunnel in time. The elf woman was waiting for him and dragged him back.
The metal ground down past them, and they all sat in mortified silence. Arath went on screaming for a bit, demanding that someone “get it off,” and calling on Krampus to release him. But then he went silent. The gears went on turning. The ceiling went on pressing down, down, down.
Then it stopped, and a moment of terrible stillness descended. Finally, the plate began its upward journey once more.
Jack sat in stunned, horrified silence for a long moment. “We should…we should probably go check on him,” he said at last.
“Yes,” Ceinwen agreed.
“He’s dead,” Karag said. “No one would survive that.”
“Still…we should check.” Then, he added, “Just…well, I don’t know where he was when – well, watch your step.”
“Yes,” the giant agreed. “That kind of sludge will doubtless not come off in the wash.”
>
Jack felt a little sick at the thought. But he stepped out into the darkened shaft anyway. With careful, ginger steps, he made his way around the room. “Arath? Can you hear me, Arath?”
Another set of footsteps, and then a third joined him, as Ceinwen and Karag exited the tunnel. “You find him yet?” the giant asked.
“Not yet.” Then, an idea struck him, and he felt a bit of an imbecile for not having arrived at it already. He pulled on his magic and tried to conjure a fireball.
Nothing happened.
He frowned, and tried again, but with the same result. “Uh…Ceinwen? Can you cast a light spell?”
“Tried already. This place has got some kind of magical barricade built into the stone.”
“I don’t mean to be insensitive,” Karag said. “But that plate is almost back to the ceiling, which means we’ve got very little time left before we need to hide again. I’m sorry about what’s happened to Arath. As much as I cannot stand the man, I wouldn’t wish that end on him.
“But unless we want to share his fate, we really do need to find a way out of here.”
“What way?” Jack asked. “There’s no way out.”
“No way that we’ve found. But we wouldn’t have the passage we’ve been hiding in, if we hadn’t looked again.”
“We checked the ground level,” Ceinwen said.
“Perhaps it’s above the ground level.”
“We checked for a door too,” Jack put in.
“Maybe it’s higher yet. Maybe…” The giant trailed off, and when he resumed again, a note of excitement sounded in his voice. “Maybe it’s not at a human height at all.”
“What do you mean?”
But Karag said no more. His rapid footfalls echoed through the room for a moment. Then, he seemed to have vanished, for he made no sound at all. The ceiling plate stilled as before, and then began its descent. Still, the giant remained silent.
Jack was just about to ask him what was going on when the other man shouted, “Aha.”
“‘Aha,’ as in you’ve got a way out?”
“Indeed, I believe so. Come, Jack; come, Ceinwen. It is over your heads. You will need my assistance in getting in. And we must move quickly.”
