Warrior (The Word and the Void) Read online

  Devourers? Jack wasn’t pleased to discover that in addition to the demon and its minion there were these things out there too, but he forced himself to look away. Ahead, a wall of bushes blocked their path. Beyond, he could make out a scattering of ornamental trees, a swing set, a patio, a screen porch and a back door. “Do we enter there?” he asked Ineke, pointing to the latter.

  “Perhaps. For the moment, we need to cross the lawn to where the house sits. Unseen. For that, you will require a dusting of powder. Close your eyes and don’t breathe until I am finished.”

  He did as he was told and could feel her moving all around him in slow circles. Something feathery was brushing against his exposed skin and, by dint of proximity, his clothing. A dusting, a layer. He stood still and waited, and finally she told him to breathe again. When he did, the scent of the air rushing in through his nostrils was tinged with the smells of trees and grasses, of the park’s flowers and its earth.

  “Now you smell just like everything around you, and your human scent is muted. A necessity, since a demon’s sense of smell is its best defense against enemies. Unless they detect your movements, you will essentially be invisible to those who would sniff you out. Now, come ahead.”

  She led him through the bushes and out onto the lawn. He was instantly casting about for anything waiting for him, searching the shadows, peering into dark corners and layers of deep blackness, expecting with every step that something terrible would emerge. The anticipation was excruciating, threatening his sense of balance. But, in the end, nothing happened.

  By the time they had reached the sheltering back wall of the old house, Jack was sweating freely and breathing hard. For all that his fears and doubts were crowding in, this all felt too easy, too simple. Something was wrong, but he had no idea what it was. He cast about the yard and the trees of the park beyond in an effort to uncover whatever it was that was troubling him.

  “Where is the welcoming committee?” he whispered to Ineke.

  For a moment, she didn’t answer. Then she lifted one slender arm and pointed behind him. He turned to look and immediately froze.

  What approached did so on four legs, those in back longer and thicker about than those in front. It was wolf-like in his head and jaws, and bear-like in the girth of its body and shaggy appearance, but it was also something else Jack could not define. Its eyes had a human look, an intensity, color and shape that were unpleasantly recognizable as something he had seen in men and women he had known. The creature was prowling as it advanced, taking its time, sniffing the ground one moment and the air the next.

  “It cannot see us,” Ineke whispered in his ear – but when he turned to find her, she wasn’t there. “Don’t bother looking. You cannot see me in my present form. I am a bird for now, too small to be easily detected but swift enough to flee should the need arise. I am on your shoulder, close to your neck.”

  He ducked his head, tracking the sound of her voice, and saw the tiny iridescent blue bird perched on his shoulder. “You’re sure?” he whispered back. “It can’t tell we’re standing right in front of it?”

  “Poor eyesight, but good hearing. Stand still. Say nothing more.”

  He did as she told him to, watching the creature advance until it had reached them. It stopped not six feet away, testing the wind, growling softly. Long, sharp fangs revealed themselves. Suddenly Jack realized that this creature was what had torn Scoot apart. This was the creature he had chased all the way to the park. He closed his eyes and held his breath. The beast sniffed some more and then moved on.

  When it had passed around a corner of the house, Jack breathed out again and felt the tension drain away. A quick glance around revealed no other sentries.

  “That was an ur’demon called a Mange,” Ineke advised. “Very dangerous. It was a good thing it didn’t detect us, or you would have had a hard time of it.” She flew off his shoulder and reverted to her ghostly little girl form. “Let’s get inside.”

  She led him away from the Mange and towards the other side of the house where she found a window she liked and pointed to it. “This one. Use your staff to release the lock. Just think what you want, and it will happen. At least, it will with locks.”

  Jack touched the window with the tip of his staff, willing it to unlock, and he heard the lock release. In moments, they were inside, standing in a library with floor to ceiling shelves filled with books. Jack looked around in amazement. It was a private library the likes of which he had never seen. Furniture provided for reading occupied the open space, and a ladder for reaching the higher shelves was attached to rollers that allowed for it to be moved easily about the circumference of the room.

  “This way,” Ineke ordered, wasting no time on looking around, moving towards the entry door.

  “Does no one live here?” Jack asked as they crossed the room.

  She shrugged. “The demon and his companions.”

  “But no Winston family?”

  “Apparently not. This house appears not to have been occupied for a long time.”

  They slipped through the library door into a hallway, where the tatterdemalion paused. She sniffed the air (an unpleasant reminder of what the demons did) before indicating that Jack should wait where he was. Changing form to the tiny bird, she flew off into the shadows.

  She wasn’t gone thirty seconds when a shadow appeared at the end of the hallway and moved towards Jack. He watched it come, wondering if he was visible yet. Or visible to whatever was coming, in any event. The creature that approached walked upright, so that eliminated the Mange. It had a human definition to its shadowy form, and as it drew closer Jack could see that it was a man. Not the demon, but someone else.

  It was his father.

  Except that his father was dead. Gone for almost two years now.

  “Jack!” his father exclaimed in surprise. “You’re not supposed to be here!”

  “You, either,” Jack replied. “You’re dead.”

  “Really?” His father laughed, that deep chest-booming explosion that was so familiar. “I thought it was just a trick of the light.” He wiped his eyes, just like he always used to after laughing hard. “So I really am dead? No wonder I have trouble meeting people.”

  Jack smiled in spite of himself. Just like his father to say something like that. “Why are you here? This place isn’t for you.”

  His father’s face suddenly turned serious. “Are you sure?”

  Jack felt something drop away inside, a fear he hadn’t realized he harbored until now surfacing. What if his father had become a creature of the Void? Or worse, had been one all along. He had never seen his father that way, never thought of him as anything but a good man. But demons specialized in deceit, didn’t they, and how could Jack be certain of anything at this point?

  His father gave a weary sigh. “I’m here to warn you. I had to do that much. You have to get away from here. They’re waiting for you, down in the arena. Too many of them for you to face alone.”

  “My wife and children are here. I can’t leave them.”

  “You have to.” His father shook his head firmly. “They are lost to you, their fate sealed the moment the demon caught them and brought them here. They were a lure to bring you. And, sure enough, here you are, just as planned. It’s too late to save them, Jack. Too late for anything but saving yourself.”

  Jack felt a momentary rush of despair. Anne and the children gone forever? His life would be damaged beyond repair. He closed his eyes in an effort to make it not so, to banish it from his mind.

  “Jack, Jack,” his father soothed, his voice drawing closer – comforting and soft with compassion. It was the father he remembered so well, the man who was always there for him when needed. The memories resurfaced – times he had thought lost to him, moments he believed forever gone. His thoughts were suddenly jumbled, and he dropped his guard. This was his father, returned to him. “It will be all right, son,” his father was saying. “Just know I am here for you. Everything will be al
l right . . .”

  “Jack!” Ineke shrieked in horror.

  His eyes snapped open in time to see his father’s face disappear and his head split open to reveal a huge pair of jaws full of crocodile teeth, gleaming with hunger and expectation. He flung himself clear of the clawed fingers reaching for him and whipped his black staff about in a savage blow that sent the demon spinning away. A follow-up strike crushed the jaws and the head. Fire burst from one end of the staff as he thought it into being, and the creature collapsed to the floor, where the Feeders fell upon him and devoured what remained.

  Ineke fluttered down in front of him as he staggered away, changing from a tiny bird back into her usual form. “You let yourself be hypnotized by it, didn’t you? That’s what demons do. They make you believe they are someone else – someone you want them to be – and then they take you.” She shook her head in admonishment, her long hair shimmering. “Remember. You must remember! Nothing in this house, aside from me, can be trusted. No one you encounter will be a friend. You must concentrate to see the demons as they really are, not as they appear. If you do not, you will not survive this night.” She glared furiously, and then just as suddenly her expression softened. “At least now there can be no doubt they know you are here.”

  “No, they knew I would come.”

  “Yet they don’t know yet what you can do. Let’s go show them.”

  He hesitated. But what I can do? Does it make any difference to these creatures?

  Jack McCall glanced at the pile of ashes to one side, thinking of how he had been tricked into believing it was his father. A part of him was devastated by his own willingness to embrace the impossible. But a larger part was infuriated by the nature and extent of the deceit. What else might they attempt?

  He blocked his rage away long enough to see Ineke halfway down the hall, waiting for him to follow. He set off to catch up to her, determined not to be fooled again.

  Determined, as well, to put an end to this nightmare.

  Chapter 13

  They passed down the central corridor of the home, the Knight of the Word and his tatterdemalion, passing rooms in which shadows dominated and anything might be hiding. But nothing threatened, and whatever danger might be lurking remained in the shadows and in Jack’s imagination. In short order they were nearing the back of the house, where a wicked orange glow was emanating from behind a partially open doorway. There was a flickering quality to the light that suggested fire, but Jack knew that wasn’t possible. Fire in this ancient structure would catch in the blink of an eye and burn the house to the ground. Nevertheless, the possibility felt so real it practically screamed at him to flee.

  Ineke reached the opening first and pulled back the door to reveal a set of stairs leading down. The orange light passed right through her frail form, leaving her tinged with Halloween color. Jack moved to the head of the stairs and took a quick look down. The glow was rising from below, but its source remained a mystery. The stairs, steep and narrow, seemed to go on forever – for far too long for them to be ordinary stairs leading to an ordinary basement. It was a descent to another world, another realm, and the harsh and deadly promise of a terrible unknown. That there was something down there was an unavoidable certainty – a snake’s hiss in his mind that warned him to flee now and not look back.

  They are waiting for you down in the arena, his false father had said. The arena. Images of gladiators and beasts rose to mind, unbidden. Images of blood and gore and death from combat too horrible to contemplate.

  “Brave knight,” Ineke said quietly, bringing him back to himself. “Do not doubt yourself. Do not be afraid.”

  He wondered if Anne and the children were really there, as the demon had taunted. Or was this just another lie? He hoped they were not; he prayed for it. But it felt as if he were trying to capture the wind.

  Suddenly, he was terrified, certain that he could not prevail against whatever was waiting for him. Doubts crowded to the forefront of his thoughts, overpowering whatever confidence he had managed to cling to. What was he doing here? Why had he ever agreed to be a part of this madness? He knew what was going to happen to him. He knew what the demon would do to him – this creature so powerful that he was nothing but an insect beneath its feet.

  “I don’t think I can do this,” he whispered.

  Ineke stared up at him. “You can, Jack McCall. I will be with you. I will be a voice in your ear, cautioning you, guiding you, warning you whenever necessary. Listen for me. It is why I was sent to you. I am to share your fate; I am to be for you what you must be for the Lady – a sacrifice to the commitment the Word has made to hold the magic of the world in balance. Remember what you must do as a Knight of the Word, no matter what waits for you.”

  “All I want to do is save my family.”

  She cocked her head. “You are here to destroy a slayer of Knights of the Word.”

  “I understand that!” Abruptly, he was shouting. “I have to destroy the demon in order to save my family. Doing the one is necessary in order to achieve the other. I get it! I accept it!” He took a deep breath to steady himself, his voice lowering to a furious whisper. “I will do what I have to.”

  He straightened, resigned to his fate. His fears served no purpose; his doubts provided no help. His words echoed in his head. I will do what I have to. He pulled himself together, letting the words repeat themselves, over and over.

  “You need not go with me, Ineke. You have done enough just by bringing me this far and helping me to see what it is required of me. No more wishing for things to be different. I can manage alone; you can return home.”

  “Jack McCall.” She spoke his name as if in admonishment, but without rancor or disappointment. “You must understand – I am home.”

  She turned away and started down the stairs, an ephemeral presence that seemed to float towards the source of the orange glow as if a moth drawn to a flame. Jack followed, one hand gripping the black staff that would give him whatever chance he had of surviving this night. His footfalls were almost silent on the wooden steps, the sound muffled in a way that made no sense. He could no longer even hear himself breathing, the air hot and thick in his lungs. A thirst rose within him, overpowering and demanding, but he had no way to sate it. Nor time or space, had there been a way. He was on a pilgrimage, a death march, a crusade, a fool’s errand – all somehow bound together, compelling him forward.

  He lost count of the steps in his descent, but there were too many for number to be real. Nothing could be this deep within the earth other than its core, and there was no indication his journey drawing to an end. Time passed at a snail’s crawl – seconds, minutes, hours? He found himself wondering why all this was happening, then almost as quickly as he asked the question, he answered it. The demon was attempting to break him down before it ever needed to face him. But the demon had failed to take his measure. Its plan for him would not work. He would not allow it. He would not be broken; he would not succumb.

  And then suddenly Ineke disappeared – there one second standing before him and gone entirely the next, faded away into the orange light. I am here, she whispered almost immediately, a voice in his ear. I am with you.

  He took a deep breath, realizing the stairs had ended, and he was standing in a large room, octagonal in shape and empty of everything. No doors or windows or furniture. Walls, floor and ceiling, that was all there was. The orange glow seemed to issue from those walls, but still there was nothing to indicate its source.

  Yet the light had grown harsher and was now streaked with dark streamers that might have been formed of ash or smoke, but which wafted on the air as if released in a recent conflagration.

  Three figures materialized in front of him, slowly taking shape. They stood on their hind legs like humans, but any resemblance ended there. Hunched, crooked-backed, with their bodies warped and their limbs twisted into knots, they were monsters out of a horror story. Their faces were empty and blasted – as if caught in a terrible explosion s
o they had melted and fused like plastic. There might have been eyes, noses and mouths amid the ruin of their features, but it was impossible to tell.

  Jack’s hands fastened on his staff as he prepared to face them, for there was no other reason for these creatures to be here, waiting. No other reason but to put an end to him. Their intent was clear, their purpose undeniable. But he was ready for them.

  He watched them divide to become six, and then again to become twelve. It was a trick, he realized – a charade to steal away whatever confidence he might have in himself. See them as they are, he heard Ineke whisper in his ear. He stood waiting on them, slowing his breathing, calming the urge to despair and abandon hope. To flee. And one by one, they began to disappear, fading back into the flickering light, until only the original three remained.

  They came at him then, all of them at once, in a silent rush – gnarled, misshapen forms with mouths (had they been there all along?) opening hungrily, and clawed fingers reaching. He pointed one end of his staff at them and, with a single incisive thought, blew them back across the room and into its far walls with such force that they simply exploded and were gone.

  To be replaced, almost instantly, by the Mange.

  He knew at once that this was no mirage, no trick of the mind, but a substantive presence that possessed the power and the ability to kill him. It stood before him, its shaggy head lowered, its greenish eyes glittering, its sturdy legs planted as if to withstand any attempt to move it from where it stood. It stank of sewage and rot, its thick fur crawling with creatures he could not identify – tiny scurrying beasties that burrowed and surfaced by turns. A low growl escaped its throat, its muzzle drawing back to reveal its blackened teeth, the rictus of its features a nightmarish promise of the agony it promised to inflict.