Clive Barker's First Tales

by Clive Barker

  Now, he thought, though the Cloud will overwhelm us, I will have friends beside me at the last.

  They were in the boy-King's room at the top of the tower when finally the end began. Graham was sitting on the floor in front of the window, looking out with sightless eyes to the dark wall of Cloud not fifty yards from the Palace walls. Suddenly a shadow fell across the window.

  The boy, who was sprawled in the corner, stood up. "Graham!" he said. "Come away from the window!"

  "What?" Graham turned slowly, sleepy with the wine. Colin shook his head to try and clear it.

  Something was hovering outside the window. They could all hear the beating of its wings. The children stirred from their stupor, woken by fear.

  "Look out Graham!" yelled Colin.

  The window was smashed inwards, the colored glass exploding into a million pieces, spiralling and tumbling with a horrid slowness. Time seemed to freeze.

  In that moment Graham remembered where he had seen all this before. In a dream, a long, long time ago.

  His wine-cup flew from his hand as the claws closed around him. The children rushed forward, but the wings dragged backwards, and Graham disappeared through the window. Colin reached for him but their hands missed touching by inches. For a moment, however, he caught sight of the winged creature that had captured Graham before it bore him into the wall of Cloud.

  "Eyes," he said when it had gone. "It had hundreds of eyes."

  He knelt in the shattered glass from the window and was silent. The spell, if spell it had been, was broken.

  "We must go after him," said Colin. "How could we have stayed here so long, after coming so far?"

  "I feel as if I've just woken from a long sleep," said Gwen.

  "Me too."

  "What about him?" Gwen pointed to the boy-King, who had shrunk back against the wall in fear, and was still frozen there, staring through the window.

  "The Cloud is very close," said Gwen gently to the boy-King, "but you and your people can still escape. Or come with us -"

  "Yes," said Colin, "come with us. We can win - I know we can. And with you to help us."

  The boy-King didn't move.

  "I must stay," he said after a moment. "I am a King, and this is my only place. When it falls, then so must I. I am unable to feel what you feel, and I would be lost. I envy you your belief, your courage, and your strength. I'm sorry I detained you from your task. I was lonely and wanted companions with me when -" he stopped, and tears cascaded down his cheeks. At last he said, "I will believe there can be other dreams and lives. Next time I will share yours. For now - I must be a King."

  "Goodbye," said Gwen.

  "Goodbye," said the boy. "I hope you succeed."

  He turned his face away from them, and said no more. Gwen ran out of the room, and started down the stairs.

  "Come on Colin!" she shouted.

  "All right," said Colin. "I'm coming." Then he spoke very quietly.

  "Boy -" he said.

  The boy looked up.

  "I won't forget you," said Colin, "or the people with stars for eyes! I think there'll be other dreams."

  "Yes," said the boy softly.

  "I'll be seeing you," said Colin. The boy understood. He smiled.

  They stood for a moment, in the high tower on Desolation's Edge, a boy from this world and a King from that, and smiled at each other.

  Then Colin was leaping down the stairs, five or six at a time. When he and Gwen were at the bottom he took her by the hand, and the two of them raced out of the Palace by the Eastern gate, and into the darkening air.

  The Maggot-Cloud reeled before them. The world seemed to shake. Colin looked at his sister, and tightening his grip on her trembling hand, said, "Come on, Gwen. We're all the world has got left."

  Then they raced across the shaking ground, and plunged into the darkness.

  Desolation

  The darkness with the Cloud was all around them. At first they stood on the edge of the Cloud, growing more accustomed to the dreadful gloom, and slowly the shadowed landscape became clearer.

  Even here, on the edge of the Cloud, all beauty had disappeared. The ground under their feet was sinking and shifting like a swamp. On the horizon they could see mountains crumbling and disappearing as they watched, with a noise like distant thunder. There were creatures of all shapes and sizes everywhere, hunting and being hunted, killing and being killed, changing under the influence of the Cloud to new shapes both strange and ugly. Colin and Gwen began to run, stumbling and slipping in the swampy ground, tripping over creatures half-recognisable, half-misshapen. Above them, in the thick air, two monstrous flying lizards were fighting each other, screeching and snapping. Something like a huge butterfly flew at Colin, but he ducked just in time. They ran on.

  Ahead of them they could now see the source of the Cloud, a column of seething darkness pouring from out of the earth.

  "That must be the pit," said Colin, "where the cloud comes out."

  "The Darkest Places," said Gwen.

  "Yes," said Colin, "Come on!"

  "We'll never reach it," said Gwen.

  A huge, long-necked lizard reared in front of them, thrashing and roaring, and disappeared without a trace beneath a bubbling lake of mud.

  "It's such a long way," said Gwen. "We'll never get there."

  Colin knew she was right. Before they reached the Darkest Places they too might share the fate of the lizard they had seen. Then he turned to her with a yell.

  "Look!" he cried. "Look where the mud's draining to."

  There was a river of black mud ahead of them, gurgling and bubbling. It was drawing towards the pit.

  "If we can find a log or something," said Colin, "we can hitch a ride on that."

  "Sail on the mud?"

  "Why not? It's running pretty fast and it's going our way."

  "No, Colin, I don't want to. We don't know what's in the mud."

  "We don't even know what we may fall over if we walk it," said

  Colin.

  "One's as bad as the other."

  He searched around in the gloom and found the remains of a decayed tree trunk which he launched into the river.

  "Get on!" he ordered his sister. "And hold on to me."

  They sat astride the log with their legs in the warm mud. Almost immediately the log was caught in the current and the two of them began the strangest and eeriest journey of their lives.

  The river hurried them on, and they clung to the log for their lives.

  "Colin," said Gwen after a few moments.

  "Yes?"

  "What'll happen when the Cloud begins to work on us? Will we turn into monkeys or something?"

  "No," replied her brother. "That's why we're here. We come from a different world. The Cloud's magic can't work on us."

  "How do you know?"

  "Darach said so, remember? After we met the horseman in the field."

  "Yes," said Gwen, "I remember." She paused, "But I'm still frightened."

  "So am I," her brother admitted, "But we'll be all right."

  They began to sing to give themselves courage. Hymns and songs they had learnt at school mostly, though they couldn't always remember the words properly. They sang 'Hills of the North, Rejoice' twice through, snatches of 'Greensleeves' and 'Oh soldier, soldier, won't you marry me?'; the bits they could remember from 'When a Knight Won his Spurs', and a slightly off-key rendering of No. 565, 'Lord of All Hopefulness'.

  On the banks of the mud-river, the lizards had now died away and were gone. The world was getting emptier. Only scaly, dull-witted creatures watched them from the ooze, as they sailed past on the log, singing at the top of their voices. The Darkest Places were now much closer.

  "We'd better get off this thing pretty soon," said Colin. "The current's getting faster, and we don't want to go over the edge of the –"

  "Don't even say it," said Gwen.

  They paddled the log to the side of the mud-river and climbed up the bank. The landscape was
bleak and empty. All the animals and plants were now just slime and rock beneath their feet.

  It was the most depressing sight they had ever seen.

  They walked towards the pit, hand in hand, wondering about Graham, but not saying anything.

  "I wish we could see properly," said Gwen quietly. "If we could see, I wouldn't mind. Can we light a match, Colin?"

  "No."

  "Why not?"

  "We haven't all that many left. I don't want to waste them."

  "We're not wasting them. I want to see. Please, please Colin."

  "No, Gwen."

  "But –"

  Suddenly the earth rumbled and lurched, and they were flung to the ground. Cracks began to open up all around them. They clung together as earth and slime were rent apart. Awesome crevasses yawned open to right and left. The Cloud boiled above their heads.

  Then as abruptly as it began, the earthquake came to an end. But the smoke billowing from the fissures around them choked and blinded the children.

  "We daren't go on, Col," said Gwen. "We'll fall down one of the cracks. Light a match. We'll be able to see better."

  Colin didn't know what to do. He realised that going any further without a light of some sort would be foolish. Perhaps they should light the candle? But no, only in the Darkest Places should they do so, Darach had said.

  "Alright Gwen," he said after a moment. "I'll light a match."

  He got to his knees and fumbled in his pocket for the box of matches. His hands shaking like a man with shell shock. Nothing seemed quite real any longer.

  He found the matches, opened the box, and took out a match in his shaking fingers.

  He struck it.

  The match sparked but didn't light. Again he struck it. And again.

  Suppose the slime had seeped into his pocket. Suppose they were all damp and useless. What then?

  He struck it again. It lit.

  At that moment two things happened:

  Gwen screamed, for by the light of the flaring match, she saw that they were not six inches from the crumbling edge of a smoking crevice. And at that moment, Colin dropped both match and matchbox from his trembling grasp.

  "Gwen!" he cried. "I've dropped the matches. Back off - go back the way we came."

  "No," his sister sobbed, "I can't move. I'm too frightened."

  "Go on, Gwen. The ground's not solid. It might give way any minute.

  Hurry up!"

  "I can't. I can't," his sister wept.

  "Please, Gwen," Colin begged. "I've got to find the matches."

  Gwen slid back on her stomach until she was a few feet from Colin, whom she could just see through the smoke, kneeling close to the edge of the crevasse, searching for the matchbox. Inch by trembling inch he covered the ground, ash soft under his fingers, breathing as softly as he could, knowing that any moment the earth beneath him might give way.

  His fingers touched the dead match. Or was it dead? No, it hadn't burnt down at all. It was live. That meant the box had opened, and the matches would be scattered. He cursed under his breath.

  "Are you all right, Colin?"

  "Yes - stay where you are."

  He found another live match. And another.

  By carefully scouring the ground he collected up four altogether, but the box had gone. He reached to the edge of the crevasse, his palms wet with cold sweat. As he touched the edge, and put his weight on it, there was a pattering sound, and the fragile earth gave way beneath his hand. He flung himself back towards Gwen.

  There was a rush of earth from under him, and his legs were dangling in space.

  "Gwen!" he yelled. "Give me your hand!" She reached. He clung. The ash crumbled. "Pull!"

  She dragged her brother towards her, breath coming in agonized gulps. He reached solid ground and clung to her, sobbing.

  "It's all right," he said. "I've got some matches."

  "What about the box?"

  "No. I couldn't find it. I'll have to light them on a stone."

  He found a rough piece of stone and struck one of the matches.

  There was no wind, and it burned steadily and slowly.

  The earth was reduced to grey ash all around them. They made their way along the lip of the crevasse to a place where it narrowed sufficiently for them to jump. Ahead of them, not a hundred yards ahead, was the great pit into which the Fathers of Elz-raal-hiam had fallen. And issuing out of it like a living poison was the black column of Cloud, twisting and writhing as if made of countless demons, screaming silent curses as they leapt from the pit to overwhelm the earth. Faces formed in the column, snarling and hideous, grinning and spitting and biting, eyes wild and evil, but the children could not tell whether they were actually there, or whether it was just the way the Cloud seethed that made them appear.

  This was indeed the darkest place on the face of the earth.

  Suddenly there came a laughing, wailing scream so horrid Colin and Gwen fell to the ground, covering their ears to shut out the sound. But they couldn't. It rose, inhuman and blood curdling, mournful and terrible.

  "Light the Candle, Colin!" yelled Gwen.

  Colin was lying on the floor, shaking from head to foot. "Light it! Light it!" yelled Gwen.

  Her brother took out the Candle and the four matches, and struck one of them on the stone he had put in his pocket.

  As he did so, a bitter wind blew up out of the depths of the pit and extinguished it. And on the wind rose the creature with the many eyes that had taken Graham from the Palace on Desolation's Edge, its boneless wings flapping.

  A hundred eyes or more all watched the children, filled with hatred and evil, as the creature hovered above them, like an ancient bird of doom, new-risen.

  Light-Wielders, a voice said in the children's minds, know that I am Elz-raal-hiam, he who was once a mere man.

  Colin didn't look up, but struck another match. It blew out.

  And the third.

  "It's no use," he murmured, half in tears. "It's no use."

  The fourth and final match failed. The darkness howled its victory.

  The hundred eyes turned blue and green and purple with madness.

  Suddenly there was a figure in the gloom. A familiar figure. It was Graham.

  "Give me the candle," he said.

  No! No! the voice cried in their heads. The eyes flashed and descended.

  Graham took the candle from Colin and held it at arm's length. "Now!" he said. "Your hands on mine."

  Colin put his hand on Graham's, and Gwen too. Three hands held the candle. Three wills fought to light it against the darkness.

  They closed their eyes. The Cloud clutched at them, trying to drag them apart. They felt as if a thousand hands were pulling at them. Then, the candle flickered, and was lit. Not a normal flame, but a flame, a fire, a star. Graham threw it into the air.

  The creature with the hundred eyes recoiled before the light, dragging its tentacles of darkness into itself. The candle hung in its midst for a moment.

  An unearthly wail of agony rose, and in the children's minds, the voice cried, Back! Back! The Light! The Light!

  There was a blinding flash and a crack of thunder above the children's heads.

  The eyes flew apart and were extinguished. The candle turned and turned and turned in the air, then disappeared into the black depths of the pit. For one terrible moment the children thought the Light had been defeated. Then, from the pit, there came a flickering, which grew and grew and grew, sending great shafts of surging light up the column of darkness which boiled and screamed. The Light grew brighter and brighter, until a wave of white fire exploded from the pit, parting the Cloud before it, and shooting into the air like a fireball.

  The Cloud was torn apart.

  The fireball became the Sun, bursting through the Cloud, golden and victorious. The darkness was defeated. There was light in the sky again.

  Return

  It was like the beginning of the world.

  A vast curtain of gloom was dra
wn back, and rays of sunlight fell through the tears in the Cloud, piercing the dark, and yet healing it with wounds of light. The children watched the sunlight falling, breathless. Then, without a sound, Graham pitched forward, pale and shaking, and fell to the ground.

  Colin knelt at his side.

  "Graham?" he whispered. "Are you all right?"

  There was no reply. Gently, they turned him over. There were claw marks on him, and a black stain, like a scorch, on his forehead.

  "We must get him back," said Colin. "Maybe Darach can help him."

  "What's wrong with him?"

  "I don't know. Perhaps there's a sort of poison in him, from that thing with the eyes."

  "Well, will he be all right?" said Gwen, close to tears.

  "How should I know?" said Colin, shaking his head slowly. "I don't understand anything any longer."

  They picked him up between them and set off back the way they had come, half-carrying, half-dragging their silent burden.

  Three figures on a grey horizon, with the sun upon them, wandering through the ashes and the curling smoke, as if without purpose. They seemed to walk for hours, but time meant very little to them any longer. They began to doubt if there was anywhere to go back to, to doubt if they were even real at all.

  They were so tired, and Graham's slumped form was becoming heavier and heavier. All around them the earth heaved and trembled with new life. There was a warm, fresh breeze blooming, smelling sweet. But they didn't notice.

  Now the earth made new hills to right and left, upon whose slopes moss and lichen were growing, and tall grass swayed. There were small flowers starring the ground beneath their feet, and stunted trees struggled to grow in the still infertile earth. The world was being re-made, more beautiful and varied than ever. Everywhere, the rituals and miracles of birth were happening again.

  Still they wandered on, and Graham made no sound or movement, for the poison was deep inside him. And if Colin and Gwen thought at all, it was of him, not of the worlds that they had saved. After all, what is a world?

  At last night fell and the stars were white above them. They lay down in the sweet new grass and slept, with Graham pale and silent between them. In the night, it began to rain. Not the grey and bitter rain that falls upon cities, but a warm and living rain that fell so softly the children didn't even wake. Through the night it fell, until the clear dawn stirred Colin and Gwen from sleep.