by Kevin Ashman
The two men walked along the main street, poking their heads into any buildings showing promise. Every one stank of the sea and echoed with the sound of hundreds of crabs scurrying out of their way. Anything of interest was picked up and put into the large shoulder bags Pelosus had provided for exactly this purpose. Suddenly, the soldier’s voice boomed out from another doorway.
‘Doctor,’ he called, ‘quick, come here, I have something.’
Pelosus ran across the street and into a house where he heard the soldier cursing at something in the gloom.
‘What is it?’ he shouted.
‘Hang on, I’ve got it,’ answered Braille and backed out of an inner room dragging something with him.
Pelosus stared in fascination until Braille pulled his prize into the light and turned around with a triumphant smile on his face. Pelosus stared in disbelief.
‘What in heaven?’ he started.
‘It’s a Narwl!’ proclaimed Braille, stating the obvious, ‘a young’un admittedly, but still a Narwl. Got itself caught in a lower room out the back.’
Pelosus looked at the soldier in astonishment.
‘I don’t believe, you,’ he gasped, ‘we are looking for a way to save the lives of an entire city and you come back with a fish! What is wrong with you?’ he shouted, ‘are you stupid?’
Braille pulled his knife from his waistband, causing Pelosus’s face to drop.
‘Not as stupid as you may think, doctor,’ said Braille, ‘I may be a bit slow, but even I know something is going on and soon it could be every man for himself. Now I am what you call, one of life’s survivors and if I am going to stand a chance of surviving this little crisis, then I am going to need money and plenty of it.’
Pelosus gulped and took a step backward.
‘I don’t have any money,’ he stammered, his eyes never leaving the knife, ‘not here anyway, but back in the city…’
‘Don’t you worry yourself, doctor,’ said Braille, ‘I am about to get all the money I will ever need,’ and without another word, plunged his knife into the belly of the flapping Narwl.
Pelosus stared in disgust as the giant fish thrashed in pain and watched in horror as the soldier ripped open its belly to expose its second stomach. Soon the thrashing stopped and Braille’s head and shoulders disappeared into the body of the fish. After a few moments, he re-emerged gasping for air clutching something in his bloody hands. He wiped it furiously on his leggings and held it up to the light.
‘Told you doc,’ he said, ‘richer than a councillor’s tart.’
Pelosus stared at the Star-stone in the soldier’s hands. It was worth a fortune and no doubt would make this buffoon’s life much easier in the last few months of his life.
‘What do you think, Doc, after this is over, how about me and you take a trip to the Pleasure-tower and blow this little lot.’
‘That’s very kind, Braille,’ he said slowly, ‘but let’s concentrate on the task in hand, shall we?’
‘Suit yourself,’ said Braille and walked out of the building to continue the search. After several more false hopes, Braille’s voice boomed out again, echoing down the empty streets.
‘Doc, over here, I think I’ve got something.’
‘Oh for heaven’s sake,’ mumbled Pelosus under his breath, ‘what this time, a dead crab, a broken cup, a shiny bloody stone?’ He turned the corner and almost walked into Braille, stood in the middle of the street.
‘What do you think, Doc?’ he asked. ‘Is this, the sort of thing you are looking for?’
Pelosus followed Braille’s gaze upward and his mouth fell open in amazement. In front of them was the most ornate stone façade he had ever seen and though it was almost entirely covered with seaweed, he could see it was engraved with all sorts of detailed carvings from cherubs to flying angels. The whole façade was carved into the very walls of the Citadel itself and stretched over twenty foot high. The entrance was located half way up its face and accessed by a sweeping set of curved steps leading from the street.
It was obviously a place of worship and was the grandest building Pelosus had ever seen, either down here or in the Citadel. However, more than this, there was one thing that made Pelosus’s heart race in excitement. It was no ornate statue or glistening jewel that caught his breath, but four words carved into the stone above the doorway. Brotherhood of the Sark!
----
Pelosus and Braille made their way up the curved steps to the entrance and stood before the gaping hole that formed the doorway. Drapes of red and green seaweed fell in swathes covering most of the entrance, but beyond they could see a passageway disappearing into the darkness. After a moment’s pause, Pelosus retrieved a plankton lamp from his bag and pushed past the stinking growth to walk into the darkness beyond.
Though it was very dark, the plankton lamp gave off enough of a glow to light their way and they walked for a long time in silence. After about ten minutes, they finally emerged into an enormous cavern carved out of the natural rock, careful not to slip on the weed-covered floor.
‘What is this place?’ asked Braille in awe, his voice echoing around the massive chamber.
‘Don’t know,’ said Pelosus. ‘Any fixtures that may have been here have long ago rotted away. It seems like it is some sort of gathering place to me.’
‘Why do you say that?’ asked Braille.
Pelosus indicated the many rows of tiered steps at the base of the walls surrounding the entire room.
‘Those seem to be some sort of viewing arrangement,’ said Pelosus, ‘each row of people would be higher than the row in front, so they could see over their heads to whatever ceremony was happening down here in the centre.’
‘What sort of ceremony?’ asked Braille.
‘I’m not sure,’ said Pelosus, ‘it’s so dark in here, it’s hard to make sense of the layout. If there was more light, it may be easier.’
Braille retrieved a candle from his own pouch and lit it from his tinderbox before holding it up in the air. The room was now lighter but apart from more seaweed, there was not much more to see. Pelosus walked toward the centre of the room where the pile of weed seemed to be much thicker and pulled fruitlessly at the entangled mass.
‘What is it, doc?’ asked Braille.
‘Don’t know,’ said Pelosus, ‘but there seems to be something under here, give me a hand.’
‘Nah, it stinks,’ said Braille in disgust.
By now, Pelosus was beginning to realise what made Braille tick so he tried a different path.
‘Might be worth something,’ he said at Braille’s departing back.
The soldier stopped, and looked over his shoulder.
‘What do you mean?’ he asked.
‘This is obviously some kind of public meeting place,’ answered Pelosus, ‘whatever is under this stuff may be valuable to the council. I am sure they would be very grateful if we returned with some information that shed some light on this whole mad situation.’
‘How grateful?’ asked Braille.
‘Free ale for a month,’ suggested Pelosus.
‘Two months would be more grateful,’ said Braille, always on the lookout for a better deal.
‘Two months,’ agreed Pelosus, and within a few minutes the two men had uncovered a round stone approximately four feet high and twelve feet in diameter. They stared at the slab before Braille spoke again.
‘Waste of bloody time, that was,’ he said, ‘there’s nothing there but a bit of rock.’
‘Hmm,’ said Pelosus, ‘it would seem this pedestal is the focal point. Whatever this room was for, everybody’s attention would be on this piece of stone. Help me up; I’ll see if I can get a different perspective.’
Pelosus climbed up on to the centre of the circular plinth and turned slowly, taking in the room from the higher angle.
‘See anything, doc?’ asked Braille.
‘Not really,’ said Pelosus, ‘though I would imagine that some sort of ritual may have been carried out up he
re.’
‘Sexual rituals?’ suggested Braille, more in hope than expectation.
‘Possibly,’ said Pelosus, ‘but I’m not sure. It all seems a bit sparse to be honest and the viewing platforms a bit organised. Ritualistic rape or murder would normally be in more intimate circumstances. The arrangement of the viewing platforms suggest that as many people as possible would cram into this room to see something special. Look over there; there are four entrances in all, each leading from opposite sides of the city. I can imagine hundreds of people streaming in from each tunnel to take their place on the viewing tiers to watch whatever it was that went on in here.’
‘Doc,’ said Braille looking up at him.
‘What?’ replied Pelosus, and glanced down at the soldier only to see that Braille was staring up past him at the ceiling above.
‘Look up there,’ said Braille.
Pelosus looked upwards and at first, couldn’t see anything in the darker recesses of the domed roof, but after a few seconds, made out a much darker circle in the apex of the ceiling.
‘What is it?’ asked Braille.
‘Looks like a hole,’ said Pelosus, ‘disappearing up into the belly of the Citadel.’
‘Like a chimney perhaps?’ asked Braille.
‘Too big,’ said Pelosus, ‘it’s about the same size of this slab, in fact, I would say exactly the same size. Anyway, time is getting on, perhaps we should be getting back.’
They walked back through the tunnel, eventually emerging back out into the open air. As they exited the tunnel mouth, Pelosus hit his head on something solid hanging down from the top of the entrance hidden in the weed.
‘Shit!’ he cursed, nursing the bleeding wound, ‘what was that?’
Braille reached up and pulled away the sheets of weed revealing two pointed stones sticking down into the entrance.
‘Must have slid down,’ he said.
Pelosus stepped back toward the top of the entrance steps and stared at the opening.
‘No,’ he said quietly, ‘I don’t think they did. Pull away the rest of the weed.’
Braille reached up and tore away swathes of growth from above the tunnel mouth, finally stepping over the pile on the floor to re-join Pelosus a few yards away.
‘By the Saints,’ whispered Pelosus.
Braille turned around and stared up at the focus of the Stargazer’s attention. The removal of the weed had revealed a carved face in the granite wall staring out over the city below.
It was longer than a normal human’s head was, and seemed to be either the representation of a skull or a head with very thin skin covering the bone. The eyes were small alcoves carved into the rock and were obviously intended to hold large candles for further effect. The nose was thin and slightly hooked, but the scariest part by far, was the mouth. The tunnel naturally mimicked a set of gaping jaws and hanging from the top edge was an uneven row of sharp, predatory teeth.
The overall image was horrifying and Pelosus realised that when seen from the streets below, the effect must have been terrifying. His mind strayed to the thoughts of the populace who must have climbed these stairs to enter through the gaping jaws of this monster to take part in whatever horrors must have taken place in the cavern. A shudder rippled down his spine and realising it was getting dark, he turned to address Braille.
‘Come on,’ he said, ‘let’s get out of here.’
----
Chapter 21
Amber stared dismally into the darkness, the floor of the room just visible in the green light of the orb. Kenzo sat beside her, his head back and eyes shut as they waited for something to happen. They had been there for hours and had given up shouting ages ago.
To pass the time, Amber had watched intrigued as tiny insects waded into the strange white substance, seemingly attracted by its luminescence and she was quite surprised at how many must have been hidden in the shadows.
Even more fascinating was the fate of the insects and at first she was appalled, but soon become accustomed to their writhes of agony as the acidic fluid ate into the softer parts of their bodies. Soon, even the shells were dissolved and within minutes there was nothing left of the ill-fated creatures. The silence was absolute so when she heard a tiny sound from above, she nudged Kenzo nervously.
‘What is it?’ he asked.
‘I heard something,’ she said, ‘up there.’
Kenzo peered upwards, holding the orb as high as he could but could see nothing due to the high ceilings.
‘Do you have a candle in that pack?’ he asked.
‘I think Leona packed the whole kitchen,’ said Amber, rummaging through the pack. She lit a candle and passed it to Kenzo.
He held it up and peered into the darkness again, struggling to see anything in the gloom.
‘It’s too dark,’ he said, ‘I can’t see anything.’
‘Kenzo look,’ whispered Amber suddenly, her voice filled with fear, ‘over there in the corner.’
High in the darker part of the void, a pair of piercing white eyes peered out of the blackness, reflecting the candle light.
‘What the Saint is that?’ gasped Kenzo.
‘I don’t know,’ said Amber, ‘and I don’t want to find out.’ She ran to the door and started banging again, screaming for help through the locked door.
‘Amber, stop it!’ shouted Kenzo, ‘you’re not helping.’
She stopped and returned to his side, staring up into the darkness.
High above, the Sark watched the humans closely. He had slept well and hungered for meat. White venom dripped from his mouth, the glands full to bursting with the juices necessary to soften its prey before he could tear living flesh from bone. He wasn’t sure why he had waited so long, but would delay no longer. He needed to feed and his prey lay below him.
‘It’s moving!’ screamed Amber and they watched in horror as the dark shape crawled slowly down the wall. ‘Oh my God, Kenzo, do something.’
They both retreated and Amber hammered as hard as she could against the ancient door, screaming for help. Kenzo could just about make out the shape in the candle light and at first thought it was a giant spider, but though the body shape was indistinct, soon made out it had two legs and two arms just like them, though how it managed to cling so securely to the vertical stone wall, he had no idea. The creature dropped the last few feet, landing nimbly on all fours and his head shot up to stare at its prey with its glowing white eyes. Slowly it stood up straight and scanned the room from this new angle, checking for any unseen threats.
The soldier stared in horror. The creature was definitely human shaped, though much taller and thinner than anybody he had ever seen.
‘Stay back,’ shouted Kenzo holding up the candle and withdrew his knife from his belt to defend himself. The creature instantly recognised the weapon and snarled as it crouched lower, one clawed hand resting lightly on the floor, baring two rows of pointed teeth in challenge to this puny human.
Kenzo was terrified and he knew that his knife would be useless against this predator. The beast’s eyes suddenly changed colour, burning a fiery red as he recoiled his muscular body to power the launch that would carry him to his prey, but a second before he leapt, a calming voice sounded across the room, causing it to hesitate.
‘Crispin,’ whispered Amber, her voice shaking, ‘is that you?’
The creature’s head spun to face her, his eyes burning like coals from hell.
‘Crispin,’ she whispered again, ‘I know it’s you. It’s me, Amber. You remember me don’t you? I helped you escape from those men a long time ago.’ She stepped a pace forward, toward the beast. ‘You wouldn’t hurt me would you?’ she asked, tears flowing down her face, ‘I helped you, once.’
‘Amber what are you doing?’ hissed Kenzo.
She held up her hand to shut him up.
‘Remember, Crispin?’ she continued, ‘we were friends.’
The Sark’s instincts were in turmoil, the feeding urge was strong but there was somet
hing else, a memory struggling to reach the surface. Something was telling him not to attack but the need to feed was intense.
Amber took another step closer.
‘Oh, Crispin,’ she said gently, ‘what has happened to you?’
A silence fell in the room except for the raspy breathing of the Sark. Indistinct whispers seemed to echo off the walls as if they could hear his thoughts, though never making out any recognisable words. For an age, nothing happened and the Sark settled down onto its haunches, struggling with the internal turmoil. Suddenly a strange voice called out from the corridor outside.
‘Hello,’ it said, ‘is there anyone in there?’
‘Open the door!’ screamed Kenzo suddenly, making Amber jump, ‘for Saint’s sake open the door!’ He heard the sound of the bolt shooting back and pushed the door open into the corridor. ‘Come on!’ he screamed and dragged Amber through the doorway.
The Sark’s eyes flamed crimson red once more and he launched across the room, its clawed feet and hands held forward in a predatory grasp, ready to tear its prey apart. He slammed into the door, forcing it partway into the corridor before the combined weight of three bodies pushed it back.
‘Lock it!’ shouted Kenzo and with a bit of effort, Amber forced the bolt into its receiver.
An unearthly howl echoed through the tunnels as the Sark vented its rage on the door and Amber turned around to identify their rescuer.
‘Flip,’ she gasped, ‘I don’t know why you are here, but I have never been so glad to see anyone in my whole life.’
‘I knew you were up to something,’ said Flip, ‘and followed you into the lane. It took ages to find your tunnel and when I did, I got lost for a while but then found your string. After that, it was simple.’
‘Just as well you did,’ said Amber, ‘god knows what that thing would have done to us otherwise.’
‘What is it?’ asked Flip.
‘I don’t know,’ said Amber, ‘but I think it used to be someone called Crispin.’
‘The boy you were looking for?’ asked Flip in astonishment.
‘It seems so,’ interjected Kenzo. ‘Come on, we have to get out of here quickly. I don’t think that door will hold him for long. We have to let Pelosus know what is happening here.’