***
As Verin reached the cliff’s edge, he spotted the two vessels in the sea. They were slowly moving toward the shore. Turning toward the army, he began to issue orders. “All of you, use caution when you climb down. The surface looks sheer, so do what you can to prevent yourselves from falling.” His last comment, of course, was mostly directed toward the impish minions that he considered to be dense, especially in matters that required a measure of intelligence. “I’ll meet you on the beach, and give new orders at that time.”
Despite their lack of intellect, Verin was pleased to notice the tiny demons had a small amount of common sense. Knowing they wouldn’t be able to descend the steep surface on their own, they climbed on to the larger machines and clung to their metal bodies like leeches. Satisfied that things seemed to be in order, Verin descended to the sandy shore below, his ghostly form allowing him to drift down effortlessly, much like a soldier parachuting from a plane.
Upon reaching the sand, Verin turned his attention toward the approaching ships. A brief calculation told him that they would be close enough to board within a couple of minutes. Turning back to the cliff, he gazed upward to check the army’s progress. From the halfway point of the sheer surface, all the way to the forest at the top, a seething mass of silver fluttered down like a curtain dropping after a stage performance. Despite their smaller size, the tiniest of the machines seemed to be having less difficulty with the steep descent. The largest members of the army, the giant, troll-like monstrosities, though moving more slowly and deliberately, were creating a deluge of stone that fell to the ground like a meteor shower. If Verin wasn’t as insubstantial as a ghost, the downpour of rock might have killed him. Thankfully, he didn’t have that problem. The enormous machines had to punch their metal fists into the cliff to keep themselves from falling to the beach and becoming a huge pile of scrap, each strike forcing chunks of rock to break loose.
Before the first machine made it to the bottom of the steep slope, the Black Knight suddenly appeared by Verin’s side, his booming voice startling the formless demon. “Have my minions and the smaller members of the army board my ship when they get down here,” he instructed. “The remainder of the forces will be loaded on to the Executioner’s Rage. Understood?”
Verin bobbed his wispy head in acknowledgment. “As you wish, my Lord.”
Chapter 18
Almost as soon as the second moon dipped below the water at the limits of his vision, Edward saw the first light of the approaching dawn on the opposite horizon. In the muddled, deep orange glow, a welcomed sight blossomed in front of him … land. Even though the journey had only lasted one night, it felt like it had been forever since his feet had rested on solid ground. “We’re almost there,” he announced, turning his head to the side as he spoke, hoping that his friends could hear him. Katie obviously had, because she smiled weakly in response. However, her expression seemed lackluster, as if she really didn’t care one way or the other about his declaration.
With a sigh, he turned his eyes to the southern land mass, which was swiftly drawing nearer. Before he could shout instructions to Skarr, the ancient dragon began to descend. Whether she was anticipating his request, or merely landing in the first available place she could find, Edward wasn’t certain. The latter made more sense to him. Surely, after flying for several hours with creatures on her back that she wasn’t used to carrying, Skarr would likely need to rest. Surprisingly, Sygax had managed the journey without aid. For a creature that had barely learned how to fly before they left the northern lands, the young beast had done exceptionally well. Not once did he cry out for help, and taking his youthfulness into consideration, it was equally amazing that Skarr had only reprimanded the youngster once.
Unsure of how rough the landing would be, Edward shouted back to his comrades, instructing them to brace for impact. He was delightfully surprised when Skarr touched down, the finesse of their arrival barely stirring the sand beneath the dragon’s massive, clawed feet. If it weren’t for the deep imprints in the ground, it would have been as graceful as a feather floating down from the heavens. Sygax, however, was not as fortunate when he landed. His legs tangled up beneath him, causing his descent to terminate in a wild flailing of limbs. The result of which, though somewhat comical in appearance, concluded with the young dragon crashing into the palm trees at the edge of the beach.
“Are you all right?” Edward jumped down from Skarr’s back and hurried over to the crumpled red form.
“It seems that my landing needs a bit of work,” Sygax groaned, slowly unfolding his knotted limbs and rising unsteadily to his feet.
Edward chuckled, patting the young dragon’s neck affectionately. “You’ll get the hang of it eventually. The first time doing anything always seems a bit rough. At least you didn’t kill yourself, or get injured badly.” Once he was certain that Sygax had suffered no ill effects from the crash, Edward returned to the older beast and his friends. Foremost in his mind was the matter of Katie’s continued aging. It hadn’t been as noticeable in the night sky, but with the rising sun slowly brightening the day, the abundance of gray streaks in her hair was impossible to miss. She looks older than me now, he mused. He tried not to let his sadness show, but the downturn of his lips gave it away. Thankfully, it wasn’t Katie who caught him frowning.
After seeing Edward’s expression, Julie turned her back toward the wizard, hiding the tears that were beginning to form. Attempting to appear busy, she searched Skarr’s ridged spine for their supplies. “Shit!” She stomped her feet angrily, and spun back to face the others. “We didn’t bring anything other than our weapons with us! No food, no water, no blankets … nothing!”
Her outburst caused Edward to take a step back, and as he did, another thought occurred to him. They would either have to travel on foot, or ride Skarr in order to get to the Throne of the Gods. They no longer had use of the mechanical horses they’d grown accustomed to. As he realized this, Julie’s tirade struck home. All of their supplies had been stored in the cavernous chest compartments of their former mounts.
“Why does it seem like this mission keeps going from bad to worse?” Katie sank to her knees, covered her face with her hands, and sobbed.
***
As Verin began to prepare the machines for their descent, George—the inner monster hiding within the shell of his former, younger self—contemplated his options. On one hand, he was tempted to leave the mortal body he temporarily called home to infiltrate a machine. However, it wasn’t only the lack of control he would be able to exert over the mechanical construct that gave him reason to pause. Doing so would leave the young man he currently resided in completely on his own, and out of his realm of influence. All things considered, it wasn’t a risk worth taking. The most obvious problem it could cause would be devastating to his plans. The Black Knight would surely notice the difference. As much as he hated to admit it, things would be much simpler if he stayed put. He despised being depicted as the demon’s lapdog, but it was something he had to do for now. There should be ample opportunities for him to reverse his situation in the near future.
Since the Black Knight’s voice no longer boomed from within his three-headed steed, George assumed he was preoccupied with matters concerning his army. He hoped he wasn’t wrong because, if so, things could get ugly real quick. Pulling back on the lever at the base of his mount’s center neck, he urged the machine into the sky. Once he was above the canopy, what was left of it, he maneuvered the metallic beast in tight circles, trying to avoid detection. At the same time, he used the opportunity to keep track of the army’s descent and the process of them being loaded upon the ships. It gave him something to occupy his mind while he also searched the night sky for any indications that a dragon was near. If the Black Knight hadn’t interrupted him earlier, he would have been able to maintain visual contact with the creature instead of worrying about the possibility of a surprise attack.
Thankfully, George didn’t have too much time t
o dwell on the what ifs. Within fifteen minutes, the last remnant of the machines comprising the Black Knight’s army had reached the sandy shore below, and shortly thereafter were efficiently loaded upon the waiting vessels. Once the last of the mechanical monsters were aboard, the two ships swiftly departed, becoming mere dots on the watery horizon in a matter of minutes.
To further ease his mind, George waited until he couldn’t even detect a speck on the sea. Once he was sure there was no possibility of the Black Knight spotting him—lest he employed the use of the surveillance camera, hidden somewhere in one of his mount’s metallic skulls—he urged his three-headed steed higher, climbing through the night sky until the air started to feel thin. Hopefully, by ascending to this height, he would be able to avoid potential encounters with dragons. Surely, they would not carry their human passengers to such an altitude. As George urged the mechanical beast forward, and the cold wind began to assault his face, he contemplated the next phase of his plan.
***
After Skarr’s proclamation that it could be a considerable amount of time before she would be ready to fly again, Edward had urged everyone to the relative shelter of a nearby stand of palm trees. The flight to reach the southern lands had been long, though not as lengthy as he imagined it would be, and he knew his friends needed to rest, especially Katie. Her appearance might have been a result of the rapid aging process she was undergoing, but it could also be explained away as stress. To Edward, she looked as haggard as Jonas—the last living elder of Elysia, who had perished in the battle to save the greatest city on Desolace—though, with considerably less gray hair ... for now at least. Who knew how long that situation would remain true? At the rate Katie was aging, it was completely within the realm of possibility for her to succumb to death from old age within the next couple of days.
The mere thought of Katie’s impending demise made Edward second guess his decision to rest. Time was of the utmost importance. If they didn’t reach the Throne of the Gods in time, she would pay the ultimate price. As much as she grated on his nerves lately, it was unacceptable for her to die like that. He wasn’t sure why he felt so strongly about the young woman, other than the fact he’d spent so much time with her and grown to be close. Part of him cared for Katie as if she were a friend or sibling, and another part insisted that he actually loved her. What he did know was that if Katie died because he couldn’t get help for her in time, a significant part of him would die right along with her. In the case that such a thing were to happen before the group reached the Throne of the Gods, it could spell disaster. Supposing that he wasn’t fit to lead the party, it would likely mean that darkness consuming the world was inevitable. The gods would surely fall, and life—provided it could be consider such—wouldn’t be worth living. He would rather die than see Desolace a barren wasteland, defiled and destroyed by an evil that all but promised to corrupt every living thing.
Chapter 19
Shortly after taking flight, George soared past the ships bearing the Black Knight’s army. The vessels were barely visible from his current altitude, tiny twinkles of light that might have gone unnoticed if he hadn’t known where to look. Once they were behind him, he focused his attention on the pitch black curtain of night in front of him, hoping that the illumination provided by the moons and stars would give him sufficient warning if he was flying too close to the dragon. He recalled the Black Knight’s mention of a land mass beyond the sea, but since he was unfamiliar with the geography of Desolace, George had no clue how long the flight would take. It could be minutes, hours, or even days, for all he knew.
Unsure of how much time had passed, but feeling as if it had been at least a couple of hours, a cloud scuttled across the sky and briefly obscured the moons. With only the foreign constellations to guide him, George felt as if he were flying through a void in space. During the almost eclipse-like shroud of darkness, a faint glimmer below caught his eye. It was almost like gazing on a star from the heavens, the effect of which disoriented him and made him feel as if he no longer could judge what was up and what was down. He did the only thing he could think of to combat his confusion: he nudged the control lever of his mount forward. The air around him warmed slightly as he descended, and after a few minutes the shimmering glow began to solidify, becoming a distinct shape George immediately recognized as the meddlesome spirit that seemed attached at the hip with one or more of the humans he was following.
Not wishing to draw attention to himself, he jerked the lever back. Once he felt like he’d obtained a safer altitude, one that virtually eliminated the possibility of being spotted, George allowed the control to snap into its original, upright position, thus causing the flight of his steed to level off. So far, so good. If the spirit knew he was nearby, it gave no indication of such. It continued to glide in a straight line, presumably in the direction the humans had fled to.
When the first of the moons crept from behind the cloud cover, George had trouble distinguishing the ghost from the white orb’s reflection on the water. He was relatively certain that the spirit hadn’t suddenly changed course, and he found himself wishing his three-headed steed had an autopilot feature, or perhaps even the ability to be set to follow a specific target. The thought of this brought a smile to his otherwise emotionless face, reminiscing for a moment about the world of computers he’d left behind, and the MMO’s he used to enjoy playing in his spare time … provided that he didn’t have a new toy chained up in the basement to play with. Nothing was more fun than that!
Since stepping through that portal and finding himself in a foreign place, George frequently became bored. Not that there weren’t things to feed his need for chaos and death, but it was frustrating when he looked back at his time on Desolace and realized his opportunities to be his true self had been basically muted. Hunting for new victims was half of the fun, and he rarely got to do that here. Sure, on rare occasions, the Black Knight indulged him, but it was far from the same as torturing someone in the intimacy of his own farmhouse. He’d spent so long constructing the secret chamber in the basement, and it seemed a shame to have the dust and cobwebs of his absence building on its concrete walls as if it were an ancient artifact.
Lost in his thoughts, he considered whether or not his continued residence in the body of his younger self was what he truly wanted. When he’d first infiltrated the fleshy shell, it was really his only option. It had been essential to mask his presence from the Black Knight, lest his spectral form be obliterated by the demon, making it impossible to exact revenge for his death. Timing was everything, and he couldn’t help but feel that the hour of his salvation was close. As much as George had initially relished the idea of using his former self to carry out his plans, he now grappled with the restrictiveness of his situation. Once it had seemed like the ultimate way to subvert the demon’s authority, but lately it only felt like a flesh covered prison. More than anything, George yearned for the freedom he’d gotten a taste of; the ability to accomplish things no mortal could dream of doing.
As desirable as it sounded, he knew he must pick and choose his battles. Surely the opportunity to step outside of his younger body would arise soon. If he acted prematurely, there was a good chance—hell, better than good, it was almost a guarantee—young George would run back to the Black Knight to tattle on him, or his disorientation would be sufficient to warn the demon of the deception he’d fallen for. Either way, the Black Knight’s fury would know no boundaries. Therefore, no matter how much George hated to admit it, he needed more time to formulate the plan for his vengeance.
Before he knew it, the first light of dawn crept above the horizon. His daydream abruptly interrupted by the encroaching daylight, George glanced down and realized he could no longer see the ghostly form below. Silently, he berated himself for getting so lost in his mind that he’d been oblivious to everything else. For a brief moment, confusion and panic clouded his judgment. By sheer force of will, he pushed these feelings away. Gathering his thoughts, he turned his
eyes to the front and was surprised to find a glimmer of hope. Knowing that as the sun rose he would be exposed and vulnerable, he aimed his steed toward the forested area below, which was rapidly growing larger with each passing second and made him feel like a fighter pilot zooming through the sky. He wasn’t exactly sure what he’d expected to see when he finally encountered land, but the sight of palm trees was the last thing he had considered. It almost seemed as if he was about to crash in on someone’s exotic vacation, which was nothing like his true purpose.
During his final approach, George could just barely make out a reddish mass near the beach. He wasn’t positive, but he deemed it a near certainty that it was the dragon he’d seen last night. If he was right, it meant the group of adventurers was likely hidden in the foliage close by. He turned his mount to the left and searched for a place to land, hoping that the enormous mythical creature had not noticed his presence. The last thing he needed right now was to get blasted from the sky by a monstrous fireball.
***
The Black Knight’s rage boiled like a volcanic inferno, ready to burn the world to ashes at a moment’s notice. Although his anger should have been directed inward—it was his fault for the miscalculation—he lashed out at anyone dumb enough to cross his path, which in this case resulted in the deaths of several of his impish minions.
An hour after his army was loaded onto the two ships, he programmed Morgana to head toward the southern lands. What he had failed to take into consideration was that his computerized vessel only had two speeds, blazing fast and stop. The galley carrying his remaining forces was manned by dead sailors, and its movement was induced by a multitude of oars, dipped into the sea and manipulated by the skeletal crew. When the Black Knight realized how quickly he was leaving them behind, he cursed under his breath that he hadn’t commissioned another ship like his own to be built.
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