Just to prove that every once in a while a miracle can occur... I've actually got two chapters finished, wow! (Oh, and ta to Drag for some input in the second one.)
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Chapter Five
The air was clear, next morning. The heavy downpour had dampened all the dust down, and the heady scent of wet vegetation seemed to cheer a lot of the locals. The Patrol teams were out early, each mud-slig pair taking a section of the town and scouring it from top to bottom for any clues.
One by one the teams reported in; no scents or signs other than their own, was the most common report, although there were a few that had found other scents, fresh from that morning, where one of the town’s inhabitants had strayed outside to ask what was going on.
Gradually the teams got back. Drek was pacing, anxiously; he wanted all the teams back and a clear report before he dismissed them, and a lot, the younger sligs in particular, were starting to get vocal about it.
That was, until Drek sent Hak out to find Patrol Fifteen, who had the smallest section of town to check and were almost excessively late getting back. The massive soldier reported back in minutes, his muzzle crimped, and informed them that Fifteen had made a grisly discovery.
It was Councillor Tay, laying in a crumpled bundle behind one of the low buildings in the town centre, both his legs snapped clean through and his ribs torn open, his face a frozen mask of fear.
“What in the name of…?” Drek had to use the doorframe to prop himself up. “I though ev’ryone waited fer a Patrol escort…?”
“He did,” Rin supplied, looking weak at the knees. “He went with Patrol Six.”
Drek turned. “Where is Patrol Six…?”
“Uh…” the pair exchanged uncomfortable looks. “Here, Boss…”
Drek gave them a stony look. “Come with me.”
Bea watched from her seat as Drek grilled the two youngsters for information. He
was being a little harsh on them, she felt, but then could understand his worry. You couldn’t be too careful, and there was nothing to say they
weren’t the culprits…
“Please Boss,” the slig – a very young one, probably only just adult – cringed under his superior’s harsh words. “We tol’ yer what happened, an’ we ain’t done nothin’ else, honest…”
“You know Tay was murdered las’ night, don’t yer? The one
you were tol’ to get back safely.”
“But… but he…”
“He was fine when we got him to his house…!” the mud finished off his sentence for him. “Honest to Odd, he was fine…!”
Drek just stared at them, for a while. “An’ how can I trust yer, huh?” he asked, at length.
“Wh-what you mean, boss?”
“How do I know yer tellin’ the truth, huh? Either of yer got an alibi?”
“Uh…” the mud hunched his skinny shoulders. “No, sir.”
Bea hauled her old frame up off her chair and hobbled over. “It’s all right, Drek, I think they’re clean,” she said, gently placing a paw on his shoulder.
“Y’do?” he asked, doubtfully, keeping his gaze on them, arms folded. “Mebbe we best keep ‘em back fer a day or two, jus’ in case.”
She nodded. “Yes, do that, it’s a good precaution. And I think a curfew for everyone else would be a good idea, as well.”
“I was goin’ t’suggest that at council later,” he agreed. “All right, yer two, wait here an’ someone’ll come tell yer what’s goin’ ter happen.”
The malevolence watched and laughed. Oh, it was fun this, spreading the seeds of anarchy in the town… No-one was safe from him, not now, he could do as he
pleased…
He remembered running up to the young councillor’s door, last night, some time after Patrol had left, taking the form of a young slig, and hammered on it for all his worth. When the mud had answered he’d been almost overly happy, crowing
they got ‘im, they caught ‘im, come on, Boss, Drek wants ter see ev’ryone…!
Tay had rubbed his eyes sleepily.
But it’s gone midnight. Can’t it wait ‘til morning?
No no, can’t wait, Mister Tay, we got to go NOW… and the mud had followed him, stupidly.
The second they were out of sight of the Patrol teams he’d struck, using his strengthening magic to first deaden its voice, then taking his time killing it, getting the Lifeglow to burn bright as he could…
He giggled that thin laugh; he felt strong, now, knowing soon it would be
the Time.
Even Ben and Arrik were in accord, this morning. They agreed to the curfew readily enough, but were in that frame of mind where nothing else Drek suggested seemed good enough.
“I say we go out and round
everyone suspicious up,” Ben snapped, coldly. “You’re going soft, Drek, we’ll never find our killer if we keep hiding like this and hoping we’ll catch him eventually…”
“What you’re suggesting,” Bea said, calmly. “Is a witch hunt. And you won’t find him that way.”
“Yer say that as if yer know who he is,” Arrik challenged.
“I have my suspicions,” Bea agreed, softly. “At least, I have suspicions on what might be causing the deaths.”
“Who?”
She shook her head. “I daren’t say, for fear he gets wind of it and hides. We’ll never find him, that way.”
Ben was watching her. “How can we trust you, Bea?”
“You can’t,” she said, solemnly. “You can’t trust anyone. At least give me a few days to try and find something out before you go off on this foolish venture of yours.”
It was evening, and the curfew was in place; Drek sat out on the platform in front of his home, and watched as the patrol teams sprinted about, ensuring everyone was indoors… somehow, he didn’t think the curfew would take much enforcing.
Were they ever going to find him? he mused.
Would they ever find the little killer? Some days it felt so hopeless. And even with the curfew in place he knew, somehow, that someone was going to die tonight, that someone would meet their end under the killer’s skilled and unkind hands, and that they wouldn’t be able to prevent it…
There was the pad of soft footfalls – he glanced up and watched as Bea stepped out onto the platform and stretched.
“I won’ tell anyone,” he said, faintly.
“Tell anyone what?” She looked at him, a little confused.
“If yer… if yer tell me what yer suspect… I promise I won’ tell a soul, yer know that…”
She sat down next to him, cross-legged, and smiled, wanly. “I know, Drek, but… it’s so hard to know who to trust and who to suspect, he could be anyone, anywhere…”
He sighed and leaned his head in his hands. “I know, I… just… never mind.”
She put an arm round his slumped shoulders. “Please understand…”
“I’m tryin’,” he said, with a soft laugh, and his features twisted into a sad grin. “But my tired old brain’s getting’ confused.”
She smiled. “No more than mine,” she said, and teased. “Besides, you’re just a child compared with my advancing years, you know that…”
He leaned against her. “Yeah, I know…”
For a while they just sat, and watched the sky darken.
“He’s goin’ ter strike again tonight, ain’t he…?” Drek said, at length.
Bea didn’t reply, at first. Then she spoke, but her voice was soft, cracked. “Yes. I think he will.”
“An’ we can’t do anythin’.”
She shivered, and shook her head. “We better go inside,” she pushed herself to her feet and went to the door. “We don’t want to be next.”
He followed her, pulled the curtain across the door as she lit one of the little oil lamps at the low table. “Bea…?”
She looked up at him. “What?”
He settled on the low mat of reeds. “Oh, nothin’. He waved his hands dismissively. “It’s a stupid idea, ferget I said anythin’.”
“What is?” she sat back down beside him.
He shook his head. “I though maybe someone should try bargainin’ wi’ it. But first yer gotter find it, ain’t yer? An’ then it’d kill yer before yer could say a word…”
She gazed at her paws for a while, then reached up and caressed the white stone at her throat. “Drek…? I’m not sure if… I think we’re dealing with a malevolent spirit of some kind.”
He looked up, sharply. “A spirit?”
“Yes. And I think he’s possessed someone.”
“So… how in frack do we find him…?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know. And I daren’t tell anyone else because he’ll kill that host and move on to a new one if he finds out I suspect that’s what’s happening… And from then on he’ll continue to travel around changing hosts every few days, and we’ll never catch him.”
“Yer got my word, lady, I won’t tell a soul,” he promised, solemnly, closing his hands round hers.
She gave him a smile. “Thank you, Drek. It’s a weight off my chest, I think, now I’m not the only one who knows…”
Hak was out late, helping Patrol Nine. One of the muds on the team had gone hysterical and flatly refused to go out, so he’d taken his place. Patrol Nine was only out to ensure everyone else was
in, and they were going in themselves when the moon was just above the horizon – about half-an-hour later, Hak had guessed, even though it was already dark.
“Don’ like it out,” the smaller of the two worker sligs said, hovering as close to Hak as he dared get away with.
“Me neither,” Hak shook his head, watching the shadows for anything suspicious. “Sooner we make sure everyone’s in th’better.”
“I don’t think that’ll take long,” the mud said, swinging the torch-beam in a smooth arc and infecting the shadows with its brilliance. “There’s no-one out in this district, at least.”
“Yeah. In which case, one more circuit an’ we’ll go in,” Hak agreed. “I jus’ want t’check wi’ Patrols Ten an’ Eight at th’main square.”
Patrol Eight were waiting at the square when Nine arrived.
“Find anythin’?” Jas asked, going forward to meet his massive pack-mate.
Hak shook his head. “Nope, no-one out; far as we c’n tell, anyroads. Jus’ waitin’ fer Patrol Ten, now?”
“Yeah,” Jas stared off into the shadows. “An’ I’m worried, they shoulda been back a while ago…”
“Think we oughtter go look fer ‘em?”
“Give it a few minutes more…”
Skan sat up with a groan. “Who ‘it me?” he slurred, holding his temples.
A circle of worried faces crowded in on him. “You don’t remember anything?” Bea asked, worriedly.
Skan shook his head. “Uh-uh. I was jus’ goin’ t’find Hak when
pow, someone sneaked up on me an’ knocked me out. Who found me?”
“Patrol Five,” Ben supplied. “What d’you mean, anyway, going to find Hak…?”
Skan looked at him. “Well… someone said he was missin’,” he said, feeling a knot of worry forming in his throat. “That he was missin’ an’ yer said go look fer ‘im.”
“Who said?” Bea perched on the side of the bed.
Skan shook his head. “Youngster, tha’s all I r’member before takin’ a dive into that buildin’.”
The councillors exchanged looks.
“Wha’s goin’ on?” Skan asked, feeling a knot of worry constricting on his throat.
“Patrol Ten met up with Eight and Nine at the meeting place – you weren’t with them. They split into pairs to look for you,” Ben supplied, softly.
“Oh damn,” Skan leaned his head in his hands. “That means… have they all reported back?”
Drek shook his head, solemnly. “All but one.”
The malevolence skimmed through the shadows like a wraith. He was
hun-gry, oh so very hungry tonight, and – with luck – he’d get the big prize tonight. He’d followed the patrol teams, watched them split into little groups to go and look for the one he’d knocked out – it had been hard to resist simply consuming that one there and then, its Lifeglow had been a brilliant gleam in the darkness – but he needed bait for the trap…
And the trap had been sprung. That big one – Hak, he recalled, grinning silently to himself – had gone towards the outskirts, stupidly alone; well, when were big brothers noted for their thinking capacity? And he’d followed, fast as an elum and silent as the shadows he flitted through.
He giggled, thinly, hungrily.
What a feast he’d have tonight…
Chapter Six
Sketh was pacing, rhythmically. Back and forth, back and forth, like a ticking clock, chewing his nails. He and his sister, two adolescent demi-godlings, had been put in charge of a trio of youngsters – one sliglet, only hatched a few days ago, a mudokon pup about the equivalent age, and Aurora, who’d gone along as well as she felt safe with her “cousins.” Sketh had liked the feeling of responsibility – maybe the adults were starting to see them as more than children, at last – but now he just felt sick with worry, a dull nausea gnawing at his insides like a canker.
Jai'ana watched her brother pace with a vaguely annoyed but at the same time concerned look on her face. "Will y’stop pacin', Sketh!" she whispered, hotly, trying not to wake the three youngsters. "Yer makin’ me all nerves, an’ yer makin' a trench in the floor!"
"Sorry…" Sketh chewed his lip, briefly pausing in his pacing, but not for long. "I'm jus' worried 'bout Da… he should've been back by now, said he was only goin’ out ‘til moonrise, then he’d be back, an’ he ain’t…"
"Yeah, well… Pacin' abut like that ain’t goin' t’make Daddy come home no sooner. All yer doin’ is annoyin’ me."
"I
know it ain’t helping. But it’s
dark out now... an’ what if that… that
thing… what if it got ‘im? Got ‘im an’ killed ‘im?”
"You
know Daddy knows better then t’stay out when it ain’t safe. He’ll be at th’pub, prob’ly."
"Yeah, I know. I jus’…” He waved his arms, unable to put a name to it. “Jus’ got a feelin’.”
“What kinda feelin’?”
“Oh, I don’ know, Jay, I jus’ have. An’ I’m worried ‘bout ‘im.”
Jai’ana remembered the last time her younger-by-five-minutes brother had had one of his ‘feelings’ only too clearly. Last time their father had been shot and killed – it was only by pure luck that Ishtar had got back to him in time to snatch his spirit back to the mortal plane. She watched him pace about for a while longer, tussling with her emotions. Finally;
"I'm goin’ t’look fer ‘im," she said, resolutely, and headed for the door.
"Y’can't! Jay, fer once jus’
lissen to me, willyer?” he followed her to the door, held it closed – while she’d inherited her mother’s fiery temper, he’d inherited his father’s brute strength, didn’t find it hard to foil her efforts to get out. “Yer not goin’ out there! Not wi’ that… that
thing…"
Riled that he was for once stopping her doing something she wanted to do, she stuck her chin out and said, belligerently. “Oh yeah, an’ what can it do t’me, huh?”
“Yer don’ know what it is,” he insisted. “What if… what if it’s another one o’
them…?”
She shivered, involuntarily, a sensation like an icy finger drawing up her spine. “We’d have know that, wouldn’ we…?” she stuck out her chin, speaking with a lot more confidence than she felt. “An’ Mum said that was a fluke, that one getting’ through th’net an’ killin’ peeps…”
“So what is it?”
She looked down at her hands, thinking. “I don’ know. But hey, Sketh!” an idea coalesced in her mind. “It don' like bright lights, r’member?”
“We don’
think it like bright lights,” he corrected, faintly.
“Well, if I got meself a light…” she turned her hand palm up, spoke a word of power and a tiny bright ball of light bloomed in her palm.
"That spell only lasts an hour, sis," Sketh reminded her, seemingly resigned to her going outside. “Jus’… be sure ter get yerself ter a safe spot before it runs out... Da’s friends’ll take yer in, won’ they?”
She nodded, staring at the Glowball bobbing just above her hand, and looked up, meeting his concerned gaze. “I’ll go find Skan,” she said, managed a wan smile. “That good enough fer yer?”
He didn’t smile back, just let go of the doorhandle and went back to his nail-chewing.
"Wish me luck, huh?" She said, pushing the door wide, and took a step out into the chill night air. The wooden shelter looked suddenly the most inviting place in the world to be, she decided, standing out on the wide platform outside and staring back in to where her brother stood and chewed his nails.
He managed a faint little "Good luck...." at last. “An’
please don’ go get inter trouble, sis…”
She smiled wanly, and leaped lightly down off the platform to the ground a few feet below.
Sketh gazed out into the night and watched the Glowball bob off down the wide street, casting odd shadows up the trees on either side. When it was out of view, he pulled the door closed and hunkered back down next to where his young charges were sleeping soundly in a blanket next to the magic fire that gave heat and light without burning. He hugged his arms round his knees, and wished, silently, that his mother was there.
Jai'ana padded through the town streets, looking for any sign of her father. She’d found plenty of people out – the Night Patrol teams, charging about with an almost manic speed, high-beam torches cutting wide swatches of brightness through the inky night. She guessed they were trying to enforce the curfew, although she was getting agitated vibes from most of them – maybe they were looking for someone? They pretty much ignored
her, though, guessing she was powerful enough to protect herself… She felt vaguely reassured by their presence, but still… she couldn't help but feel scared, not entirely sure her small ball of light would hold off the killer if it decided to come after her…
After all, what if it
was one of
Them…? She’d have no defence against it… for once she wished she was completely Rolite, like her mother. She’d never thought this before, enjoyed the benefits of both species, and yet… her slig half was making her more nervy than she thought she ought to be… She huddled her cloak round herself and fled onward.
The malevolence watched as the Patrol teams skimmed about, and giggled. The web of magic he’d spun kept them running in circles, completely missing the area he and his quarry were in and completely unaware that they were missing out a wide arc of town… And the other web of dark magic he’d spun made his quarry careless, bolstered his flagging confidence that he was safe from Him, and blocked the yells of the Night teams from his prey’s ears, kept him as good as deaf, oblivious to the search, unaware they were looking for
him and not the one he thought he was looking for…
He watched from his shadows as his quarry strode heavily down the gap between the elum pens, then giggled and fled after him.
It was dark. Too dark to see anything apart from the moonlight frosting the trees and bushes and buildings, and certainly nothing in the deep gloom of the shadows, but he still had his other senses, so that didn’t matter… Hak leaned against the top railing and sighed, softly, debating going back. It was well past the time he’d meant to head back, but he guessed another few minutes wouldn’t hurt… after all, what if Skan was in danger? What if he hadn’t just got lost, what if he was in danger…?
He straightened himself up, headed on a little further. He’d just go as far as the stables, then he’d head back. Just as far as the stables, maybe a little look round the buildings, then back.
From behind there came a thin echoey giggle.
Hak spun to the sound. "Yer...?!"
Oh damn; suddenly he realised how stupid it was still being out, he hadn't
meant to still be out, and now it seemed time had finally run out...
There was that thin, insane giggle again, somehow behind him again. "Me again," the reedy voice agreed, "Small world, huh, Fatty?"
"What is it yer want...?" Hak demanded, gruffly, backing off, scouring the velvety darkness in the hope of seeing something –
anything...
"What do I want...?" The voice seemed continually on the move, weaving around him like mist, thin and ethereal. It giggled again, and the next time it spoke there was a hint of a snarl in the soft tones. "No one t'hear you yell this time, hey, Fat-Boy...?"
Hak span sharply at an icy touch at his shoulders, startled, and flung out an arm, but connected with nothing but air.
The giggle skittered through the night air, thin and as unpleasant as the sound of nails down a blackboard. "Missed me, Fatty..." the voice mocked, in a singsong manner.
He stood breathing softly, trying to listen to where it was going as it span its dance of sound round him. "Listen..." he tried, vainly. "What is it yer want...?"
"What do I want...?" it asked, in a surprised tone, as if it was the first time it had ever been asked that.
Hak didn’t know whether to feel encouraged or just more worried. "I'm sure we could work somethin' out…” he struggled on. “Th'boss is on th'council, he could try et yer whatever it is yer want…" he still couldn't see the damn creature, but sensed it was up to something…
It giggled, thinly, and Hak’s faint hopes spiralled back down to rock bottom. "I've already worked something out..." it replied, ominously, and next instant there was a low roar on the night air, like distant thunder...
Hak twisted violently back and to one side just in time; the column of black, sparkling fire that ripped the night air asunder almost missed him. As it was, instead of ripping into his mind it tore through his throat.
Stars exploded into his vision at the sudden explosion of savage pain in his neck; the dull bellow of pain and anger turned into a strangled wheeze in his throat.
“I said I’d get yer,” the voice said. “An’ this time I
will…”
Jai’ana was beginning to get pangs of the same feeling she guessed her brother got. She’d gradually got jumpier and jumpier as she’d run, getting totally lost in the maze of interlocking streets, lighting sending weird shadows racing up opposing walls, and though she felt sick with worry now she was getting the definite feeling something
bad was about to happen…
Over the wind there came a low rolling boom, as of distant thunder, making her
really jump this time, almost leaping out of her skin, and the air fairly sang with something akin to magic… Like she often sensed when her mother got mad, or when her brother put her fire out, and yet… And yet… and yet it was cold, totally unlike the magic she knew and used herself… made her heart hurt, her eyes ache, and all her muscles complain as though she’d just run a marathon.
Yet… maybe the unpleasant feelings were useful. They were getting stronger in the direction she ran – presumably towards the source of the alien magic. Using it like a homing beacon, she fled onward, toward what she hoped would be its source, hoping she wouldn’t be too late.
Hak backed away, wheezing for the breath that seemed to keep catching in his throat. The creature was weaving a dance round him again, giggling thinly and singing something in a weird, ancient tongue, while he backed away, wondering it he could get into the stables and whether the doors would keep his unseen assailant at bay…
There was another of those icy touches, light as a caress, on his arm – reactions like hair-triggers, he managed to connect the back of his hand with it this time, sent it flying.
This time it didn't hiss fury and promise retribution - it laughed. "Oh, scary, Fat-boy..."
Hak still backed away from the broken-glass voice, feeling his heart pounding against his ribs like a steam-hammer, knowing in his heart it was futile and that it was simply playing with him, drawing the torment out, biding its time until it struck and delivered the killing blow- All of a sudden, fate seemed to smile on him. He backed squarely into a very solid, very tall post.
For a second, he forgot where he was, but one of the elums housed outdoors lowed noisily from behind; damn, the pens had floodlighting…! Drek had remembered that an old raid had managed to procure some lights from somewhere; they'd been languishing in a dusty supply crate until now. They’d finally got round to installing them yesterday, in the hope that maybe the brilliant lights would keep the Killer at bay, and what with the day’s events they’d forgotten to switch them on.
The thin voice snarled, inarticulately, all of a sudden sensing his prey was about to give him the slip again; this time Hak saw it, watched the ball of sparkling fire pooled between unseen hands… he lunged for the power switch.
The blast of raw power screamed through the air between them in a vicious shockwave, tearing into his shoulder and seemingly dragging the life forcefully out of his entire arm. With his last ounce of strength, he
heaved on the switch and crashed it all the way into the “on” position just milliseconds before his hand went numb, and his nerveless fingers lost their grip.
But the floodlighting was on – with a low
whoom of power it lit the entire area in blinding daylight. The voice gave a squeal and fled – Hak caught sight of it running, a dark little figure shrouded in mist, running as though the light physically hurt it, would burn away its shroud of darkness…
But then the pain was back, a river of it that spilled from throat to shoulder to fingertips, blinding him to everything. He could feel his throat constricting again, scarcely able to breathe… leaned his weight against the post beside him and struggled to keep the air moving in and out of his lungs…
The magic vanished as quickly as it had burned into Jay’s consciousness. The godling staggered, suddenly afraid.
What if the source has finished what it was doing…? What if… what if I’m too late…?! She hugged her cloak round herself, nearly in tears. The Myrikon had scared her, but she’d known in her heart it would be defeated; this unknown… this magic she didn’t recognise and didn’t understand… it bit deep into her sanity, in a way she wouldn’t have believed if she hadn’t experienced it…
Her Glowball suddenly flickered.
Oh damn. Oh damn… only lasts an hour… don’t be out after it goes out… She whimpered, inarticulately, trying to recast it, realising her brother had known she’d be too scared to form the words and gestures properly… The Glowball was a pathetic fading candle-glow in her palm.
But… there was a light. She’d been too preoccupied to notice it before, but there
was a
light… desperately hopeful she gathered up her cloak and bolted towards it, forgetting her fading Glowball, knowing the light was pretty much her only chance, now…
She collapsed on the sturdy railings, breathing raggedly, choking on breathless sobs, wishing she hadn't left home and that her mother was here, because Mum would know what to do, she’d make the bad things go away, like she’d made the childhood nightmares go away with a motherly smile and a wave of her long fingers…
Come on, girl, she scolded herself, faintly.
Something turned these lights on and got rid of the magic that made your teeth ache… She swiped a paw across one amber eye, jogged an unspilt tear away, and stared about the deserted pens… Wait a minute – not deserted. Over by the master switch…
“Da…!” She ran forwards, vaulted over the railing as though it wasn’t there.
He didn’t appear to have seen her – simply cradled one massive arm across his chest, leaning his weight against one of the lighting support poles, breathing with some difficulty; ugly, faintly-smoking burns were stark and black on his suddenly pale, waxy skin…
“Da…?” she staggered. “Oh, no… oh no, no… Daddy?” She touched a hand to his unburnt shoulder, gingerly.
He flinched, visibly, but dragged himself up through the murk, straightened up, as though preparing himself to face whatever danger this might be… Then the scales fell away from his eyes and he recognised her, reached out his good arm.
She didn’t need to be asked twice, fell into his embrace and sobbed against his chest.
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Thoughts? Nah, who am I kidding?
Don't want to break the long standing tradition of almost no-one ever replying, after all...
[ September 29, 2001: Message edited by: Teal ]
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