Tales of the Horns: Part 1 The Berserk Beast

by R Mountebank

  Chapter 7

  The fairy realm

  The House of Horn’s corridors sang with the music of Stephen’s destruction. He broke anything and everything in his path, smashing with his cane, clubbing with his fists. A trail of broken glass and wood splinters showed his passage from the sunroom to his private study where he kept his most valuable object, the machine.

  It was a large room on the second floor with bare stone walls and low-hanging globes of electric lights. An enormous bookshelf lined one of the walls, filled with curios, mysterious materials, exotic powders and various tools. Mary’s hated dumbwaiter, laden with dirty dishes, was sandwiched between the bookshelf and a chest stacked with odd bits of pipe and cable. A waist-high table was placed at the centre of the room, its every available space lined with books and notes.

  The machine stood on a dais to one side of the room, its chrome and brass bulk demanding the eye’s attention upon entry to the room. Its centre looked like a giant gyroscope, a series of metal circles fitting inside each other tightly. Each was inscribed with flowing Ogham script that ran the length of the hoop. Large movable struts held it at the ‘X’ and ‘Y’ axes, terminating in steel housings covered with valves and vents. Wrist-thick cables running over the floor connected the machine to its control station, a podium box repurposed with levers, dials and glowing neon buttons.

  A pale human hand rested on the podium, a long cable spooled on the floor joining it at the wrist. The hand was bigger than a grown man’s, unmarred with scars, blemishes or mortification.

  Stephen burst through the door, the force of his wrath tearing it off one of its hinges. He stripped off his coat and threw on a worn leather apron. Striding over to the work table he checked over his notes, muttering and cursing over what he read. He had gone through this process an unforgiving amount of times before, trying to find the right combination of science and the occult.

  It had worked once ˗ why couldn’t it work again? Those wily Tuatha Dè Danann couldn’t be fooled twice with the same ruse, but it was the only trick he had. It had to be the same yet different, if he was going to make it through.

  Stephen thumped the table with his fist. He had no time left to perfect his plan. Years of preparation had bought him to this point, stabilising the energy fields and tuning the frequency. He had no time to run any more tests. It was now or never.

  Flicking the hidden switch on his cane, it hummed with potential and Stephen directed it at his controls, bringing the machine to life. The room’s lights dimmed. Vast amounts of energy were drained as the central mechanism started up in a screeching whir.

  The metal hoops began to spin, slowly gathering speed. Valves and lights flared. Acrid steam billowed out of ventilation grills. The room grew oppressive with heat, glaring light and the unnerving vibrations of the machine’s motions. Stephen approached the controls, his cane still in hand. The gyrating central mechanism reached its top velocity, white hot arcs of electricity crackling along its surface. The arcing energy fused together, forming a perfect circle of power caged within the spinning confines of the machine.

  Stephen slid a lever and the circling hoops came together as one to spin upright around the perimeter of the energy. The severed hand twitched. Stephen wiped the sweat from his forehead with his shirt sleeve.

  It was the moment of truth.

  Stephen adjusted the ornament of his cane, and a bright blue light covered its length ˗ then moved outward, crawling up his arm and spreading over his entire body. Stephen gasped in pain once, then gritted his teeth and began. He pointed the cane at the heart of the glowing energy, and the severed hand sprang forth from the podium. The coils of cable unwound outward in a blur of motion before the line tightened at its full length, the fingertips of the secured hand just touching the shimmering light. Colour blossomed as the fingers made contact with the glowing surface. The energy now spiralled and contorted until an image resolved; a dark purple sky hung over a field of emerald green grass, orange stars twinkling in its inky folds.

  A magnificent castle of tall spires and white stone walls stood in the background. Stephen searched the image for any sign of her. Sneering he swiped his free hand in front of him. The severed hand mimicked his action and the image on the energy disk altered.

  He now saw a forest of impossibly tall trees reaching towards the sky, their massive trunks surrounding a glade of dense moss. No living creature was in sight. Stephen groaned and changed the image with a flick of his wrist.

  He found himself staring at a bedchamber. An ornately carved four-poster bed sat in the middle of the room, strange beasts and foliage worked into its frame. It faced an open wall which overlooked a calm sea of brilliant cobalt blue. The bed was unoccupied but Stephen could swear he smelled the faintest trace of her aroma; wild flowers and honey.

  This was her room alright, but where was she? A door creaked open slowly, and Stephen concentrated more closely on the image before him. He refined the resolution slightly to get a better look. His heart began to race in hope.

  A slim man dressed in a dark purple suit with red pinstripes entered the room in front of him, a simple silver crown on his brow and a deviant smile on his face.

  “Stephen Horn… You never give up do you?” asked the man.

  Stephen felt the blood drain from his face and his legs begin to tremble. He shook his head slightly. “I want her back, Bodb. She wants to come back home.”

  Bodb shook his head, his smile still trained on Stephen. “She doesn’t get a say in the matter, Stephen, and neither do you.”

  Stephen slammed the podium with a clenched fist, cracking the wooden panelling. “She’s my wife, damn it! You can’t do this to us!”

  Bodb laughed and crossed his arms at the spectacle of the raging mortal scientist. “What about your daughter? Don’t you care about her too?” he replied mockingly.

  “Of course I do,” replied Stephen through gritted teeth. “I want them both back. Please… I beg you.”

  Bodb rubbed his jaw, appearing to contemplate Stephen’s request.

  “No. They stay,” Bodb replied through a roguish smile. “They are my family too after all.”

  “Your plan is ludicrous, Bodb! Simply ludicrous!” railed Stephen. “Do you really think you can bargain your way out of death? The New Order won’t break status quo for you or anyone!”

  Bodb’s smile slipped a little. “Don’t presume to know everything, you insignificant little bug. I am in negotiations to leave this realm with all of my people as we speak. All that hinders me are a few remaining loose ends. Hear me when I say we will be long gone before magic finally dies and you are stuck on a cold, barren plane of existence.”

  Stephen buckled at these words. It was over. They would be gone forever by the time he had figured out another way of reaching into the fairy realm. He had to do something now. Wracking his brain for inspiration, he stalled for time. “Would you consider taking me with you when you leave?”

  “And have you stuck with me for all of eternity? I think not, my glum old chum,” replied Bodb, laughing.

  “Eternity is a big place, Bodb, you won’t notice I’m there. I swear on it.”

  “You are under the impression that I don’t hate you, Stephen. But I do. I really do,” said Bodb as his skin flashed red and his teeth began to sharpen to points.

  “You forget that you stole my daughter from me despite my strong opposition, twice in fact.” Bodb’s form stretched and buckled, gaining new mass and height as he spoke with more fervour.

  “You forget of the misguided plan to ally the disgusting Western Hordes to my own kin in some fool scheme that went horribly wrong. So horribly wrong that I must hasten my barter with this foolish new bureaucracy in the afterlife to escape a cold and bloody full-scale invasion of my lands! No, Stephen Horn. I do not want to see you at all unless it is to watch you suffer!”

  An eldritch demon from a time before men could remember now confronted Stephen from the other side o
f his portal. Stephen gulped, wondering if he had underestimated his foe’s power. Bodb stood heaving in and out hot, stinking breath. His once immaculate suit now bulged and tore over his elongated frame. The demon’s breaths shortened and it looked down, inspecting itself.

  “Look what you made me do…” it grumbled.

  Stephen blinked and the demon was gone, replaced with the gloating Bodb adjusting his cufflinks, his suit’s damage erased.

  “The answer is still no.”

  Stephen ran a hand through his hair, realising just how close he was to being cleft in twain, or suffering some similarly ghastly atrocity. There had to be something he could leverage Bodb with. His best cards were gone and now he only had scraps.

  “What about the children, Remigius and Mary? Don’t they deserve to be reunited with their people?”

  Bodb was busy inspecting his fingernails for chips, his interest in the conversation waning. “Their blood is too tainted with the filth of heathen dogs. I draw the line at your daughter. Just.”

  Stephen’s simmering rage boiled over. Pointing the cane at his enemy, he summoned the reserves of his energy. A lethal bolt of lightning arced out of the cane’s ornament and pierced the fairy’s chest. Bodb cartwheeled into the stone wall behind him before crumpling to the ground. Stephen stared transfixed at the smoking body of Bodb.

  Bodb, his enemy for too many years to count anymore.

  Bodb, King of the Tuatha Dè Danann and ruler of the Sidhe.

  Bodb, his father-in-law.

  Had he just destroyed one of the most powerful beings left in creation?

  Trembling now, he crept towards the shimmering gateway, ducking under the immortal’s hand as he passed. Bodb’s body lay motionless on the other side. Stephen reached for the gateway with an outstretched hand. He would cross over and take her back. Take them both back. He laughed nervously at the thought that after so long he was with reach of ultimate goal, that soon he would be reunited with his family. He crept forward, cautiously. Stephen bit his lip as he slowly inched his cane though the energy field first.

  Nothing exploded.

  Stephen smiled, raised a foot and stepped through. As his body crossed the threshold, he felt a warm tingling sensation ripple over him. He entered the bedroom of his wife and looked around. She was nowhere to be seen. Bodb lay still on the stone floor, smoke wreathing the burnt puncture in his back.

  The wind breezed through the open wall, bringing him the scents of orange blossom and summer grass. The impossibly blue ocean sat still below him, seemingly devoid of all life and motion. Hearing laughter and music, Stephen turned from the sea and sought out the pleasant sounds. From a lead-glass window he could see dozens of people milling about an open courtyard below him, drinking, talking and dancing.

  The fairies wore a multitude of forms. Some were animalistic with coats of fur or pointed ears and long swishing tails. Others had a demonic cast with cloven hooves, scaly skin or horns. Several sported long trailing wings like butterflies or bats. Wisps of light or fleeting rainbows radiated off one fairy woman as she glided through the throng. Many were more or less human in appearance, but with odd angular features that separated them from the more ordinary human genetic code.

  There were regular humans in the mix too, their inelegant dancing a sour juxtaposition to the majestic leaps and graceful twirling of the Fairy-folk. The mortals clomped around the courtyard intoxicated with magic, mad smiles fixed on their faces and blank eyes staring at everything and nothing. The fairies laughed and sported with the clumsy humans, they being nothing more than inebriated pets or carnival amusement at the festival.

  A long table was situated at the far end of the courtyard. Regal and beautiful creatures sat poised on thrones made of dazzling crystal. The royal family watched their court at play with looks of boredom. Heaped plates of delicacies and silver urns of wine remained untouched on the table before them. Stephen let his gaze follow the line of seated nobles.

  At the far left-hand side of the long table were two women, separated slightly from the rest of the party. Fine-linked chains held them at their necks and hands. Their heads were bowed, and they appeared unwilling – or unable – to be a part of the festivities. Stephen cried out before he could stop himself. Here they were: his beautiful wife and darling daughter! Here they were at last, in front of his very own eyes!

  The music stopped and every fairy in the courtyard looked upwards at the sound. The humans danced on regardless, their mirth not of their own choosing. One by one the fairies pointed at Stephen and laughed. Their laughter was not made of soft joyous tones; no, this was a cacophony of cold, soul-crushing laugher. Laughter of animosity and hatred.

  Stephen stood stunned by the window, his sluggish thoughts unable to comprehend what was happening. Then, his wife and daughter raised their heads together to see him. Tears spilled forth unchecked, a look of despair and misery written on their delicate faces.

  A hand clasped Stephens shoulder and spun him around harshly.

  “Yes, Stephen. This is a trap.”

  Bodb loomed over him, his human form once again replaced with the demonic. “I wanted to see your face as your heart broke with the certainty that you would never see them again. Ever.”

  Screaming defiantly, Stephen swung his cane while his forefinger moved towards the hidden catch that unleashed its stored power. Bodb’s enormous clawed maul darted out and crushed his hand before he could finish. Stephen writhed in pain as the fairy king tightened his grip.

  “Did you really think one little tickle of lightning could kill me? I’m immortal, remember.”

  Bodb pushed his bulk towards the window and waved down to his court. A cheer rose up amongst the fairies, high pitched and malicious. Stephen’s legs gave out from beneath him at the sound. Bodb raised his arm and dangled Stephen limply in front of him. Two large blood stained eyes filled Stephen’s vision.

  “It’s over, Horn. For the debt of my blood spilled without valediction and the trespass into my kingdom without consent, I curse thee. Know that for as long as you shall live your wife and child will be mine to command. Only upon your death will I release them to freedom. So it is said, so it will be. Now be gone!”

  With one flick of his wrist Bodb flung Stephen back through the gateway. Stephen slammed into the stone floor of his study, knocking the air out of him. Groaning in great discomfort, he tried to get up. Pain engulfed him as he moved. His right hand was broken in several places and his hip was in agony.

  As if that pain was not enough, Bodb’s dreadful voice followed Stephen back into his world

  “And what is this I see?”

  Reaching through the portal Bodb grabbed the tethered hand that floated in the air. “Is this how you got in? My word... Wherever did you find this?” Bodb gently caressed the severed hand.

  “I’ll be taking this too. With it, Nuada will be complete. We may even raise him from the dead. If he’s lucky…” Bodb snatched the hand back through the portal, snapping the cable. “Don’t let the door hit you on the way out, Stephen…”

  The swirling gateway started to collapse, shooting flares of white-hot light about the room. The machines spinning spheres ground to a screeching halt. Smoke billowed out of the exhaust vents, followed by orange tongues of fire. The energy field finally dissipated in a shower of arcing bolts. Stephen hurled himself behind the control podium as vast magnetic fields tore the machine apart in every direction. Flying shards of metal punched the wooden box to pieces and embedded themselves in the bare stone walls. Several large splinters caught Stephen in his left arm and shoulder. With numb, pain-riddled hands, Stephen energised his cane and directed it at a long-handled switch by the door. The power shut down, and the machine shuddered and stopped in the throes of its death.

  Blinking through the harsh smoke, Stephen surveyed the damage. His study was in chaos. All of his work had been destroyed. His once and final chance of rescuing his family was gone. No hope remained. A sense of empti
ness and utter loss engulfed him.

  He wept at the loss.

  Hissing steam brought his attention back to the machine. Several large cylinders were buckling under pressure, their rivets shearing off and flying around the room. The machine shuddered as mechanical and thermal processes carried on without their electrical counterparts to aid them.

  “Oh dear,” he said.

  The machine exploded and Stephen’s world went dark.