The Last Refuge

by L. A. Blackburn

  “You idiot, if you value your life don’t ever wake me up like that again,” she exclaimed as she pulled her knives away from his throat.

  “Then how should I wake you?” he cracked. “I can’t do anything around you without fearing you’ll kill me for some reason.”

  “Just call my name. I’m a light sleeper. What do you want?” she asked.

  “Do you know of this place,” Nathan asked pointing to a picture.

  “It’s hard to say?” said Isha. “There are many places like that in Akeldema. The location we left is only one of many.”

  “Why is this the only mural that seems peaceful,” said Nathan.

  “I’m more curious to know how it is that you can read this script…” Isha suddenly halted and made a sign for him to be silent. She moved soundlessly to the door and made her way to the outer entrance. A faint scraping came from the wall outside the entrance to the outpost as though an animal digging at the earth. Isha slowly put her ear to the wall, listened for movement outside, quickly she snatched herself away from the wall as the muzzle of a large black jackal burst through the wood, barely missing her face with its massive jaws. In one deft motion, Isha threw two blades into snarling face that sank home in the eyes of the jackal, causing the head to drop motionless, hanging by its neck from the hole in the wall.

  “What is that?” Nathan snapped as he backed up against the far wall wide-eyed with terror.

  “They’ve come for me,” she said while she blocked the door with furniture.

  “What are you talking about?” Nathan insisted.

  “Later, right now you need to block the door with whatever you can find. The jackals come in numbers and they’ll kill us both if they can,” she snapped. “It’s your fault anyway.”

  “What!” Nathan reacted.

  “If you hadn’t exorcised me when we first met, they wouldn’t be back to kill us,” she said, looking for something else to block the door with.

  Nathan thought back to their first encounter and remembered the presence he had seen and felt.

  “That’s impossible. I’m not an exorcist. I’m not even a priest,” said Nathan uncertainly.

  “All I know is, you touched me, and it left. Now, it is back with others to kill me, and anyone with me. Malakim demons join for the life of the host. If the demon ever leaves, then the ex-host is doomed to death,” she said.

  “Why does it want to kill me?” Nathan asked.

  “For me it’s just business, but with you, it’s personal,” she grimaced. “They truly resent exorcism.”

  Was that fear he saw in her eyes? Suddenly, Nathan had a sick feeling at the pit of his stomach.

  “Can we dig our way out?” He asked. Isha put an ear to the door of the chamber. Judging by the scraping and panting, other creatures were digging holes in the outer wall and making their way to the door.

  “We are many feet below the upper surface of the upper plateau. We don’t have that much time,” said Isha with sideways glances toward the door. Sounds of crumbling rock and dirt came from the outer entrance, clawed feet echoed in the entryway beyond and the reverberation of claws tearing at the wood of the inner door. She huddled against the wall near the pool, pulling her cloak and hood into place, retreating into herself to keep the panic in her soul at bay.

  “Is there any other way out of here?” he asked but no reply came. Nathan placed a gentle hand on her shoulder but she lashed out, knocking him against the wall, glaring at him with terror-stricken eyes. Nathan backed away and, instead, tried to keep himself from panic by looking again at the murals. Perhaps a hidden entrance lay somewhere in the room, he thought.

  He ran his hands over each wall top to bottom, pushing and prodding every nook and crevice for some clue but finding none. The rending of wood at the door grew louder and small holes were forming where the claws pulled scattered splinters from their place. As fear swelled in Nathan’s mind, he looked at the murals themselves hoping by chance a clue may show itself. Immediately, it came to him as the door to the room burst into a hail of shards. Nathan ran to Isha and pulled her toward the drinking pool. She sensed his intention as they took a deep breath before diving headlong into the water. The shock of its cold wetness brought Isha back to her senses, but she did not know which way to go. Nathan was not moving and a thin stream of blood came from a wound on his forehead where he struck the poolside as they dove into the depths. Snarling faces above were magnified by the pools surface showing a display of snapping death at the surface above. Nathan was drowning with each passing moment, but why should she care? She could swim much faster without his weight slowing her down, and for such a skinny boy he was surprisingly heavy. She tightened her grip on his cloak, following the pool wall as it sank into the depths growing colder with each passing moment. Suddenly, an underground current found them and quickly pushed them sideways, making them change direction several times. The water forced them upward with incredible speed, smashing them against the rocky walls at they went and sending them to the surface like a geyser. Bruised and beaten, they emerged from the depth into the center of a small pool on the plateau above. Crawling from the pool with Nathan in tow, she put her ear near his face and listened for breathing.

  Nothing.

  Turning him on his side, Isha pounded his back trying to get the water out of his airways. After a moment, Nathan convulsed and then coughed up water onto the fertile green grass that surrounded them. They escaped, but for how long?

  Six

  “Saw the Back…”

  Wiping his mouth, Nathan scanned his surroundings. In the distance, he could see the fluffy vapors of the Misty Cliffs behind him. They emerged from a small pond that sat to one side of a small glade encircled by pine and cedar trees that rippled from a northward autumn breeze. The glade connected to a tree line that stretched far to the North. To the South lay a large open plain of tall grasses and meadows reaching far into the distance to end at a forest of Cedar that stretched as far as the eye could see to the east and west. Golden rays of dawn glanced over the distant mountains in the West brushing their sparkling fingers on the distant treetops like ribbons in the wind.

  “Where are we?” said Nathan in a quivering voice.

  “It’s the Morah Highland. Somehow, the water of the upper pool is connected with the pool in the outpost. It saved our lives even though it almost drowned us in the process, but this will be for nothing if we don’t make it to Bero Refuge before sunset. The demon that hunts us will not give up so easy,” said Isha as she stood to her feet, wringing water from her cloak and turned her gaze to the northern forest.

  “What was that creature?” said Nathan.

  “A jackal. The demons possess any creature that allows them, but the jackals have been a favorite for some time. They are quick, vicious and hunt in groups,” she said.

  “Is there any way of escaping them,” he asked.

  “Usually, no. However, if we make it to a Refuge City, we will be safe for a time,” she said. “That is not the main problem. We must make it to the Avone Forest before the jackals make it to the plateau. If they catch us out in the open plains, its over. The forest is a dangerous place, but they will not follow us if we get there before nightfall.”

  They hiked at a rapid pace that belied Isha’s waif-like build. She kept the forest on their right stealing quick glances over their shoulders as they moved. Cool breezes from the coast blew in to cool the sweat beading from their faces, necks and arms. Nathan pushed himself hard to keep pace, as the pines grew larger in their sight and they neared the Avone Forest. However, something gave Nathan a cold feeling at the base of his neck. In the distance, he saw flocks of quail scatter into the air from their hiding places, flitting as though panic itself threw them from their homes. Suddenly, the plain filled with a disturbing silence with only the occasional chirping bird or brushing grass to break the uncanny quiet.

  “They are trailing us,” whispered Isha. “Run!”

  She broke into a full sp
rint across the plain with Nathan close on her heels. He gulped air in great heaves as the stems of the tall grasses whipped and tore at his face, pulling at his cloak and grabbing at his feet. Stems and stalks parted, leaving trails behind them in the grass. Yet they knew their pursuers had no need of any other trail but the scent of their prey. Pine-trees loomed ahead like sentries, towering overhead with their tops swaying in the breeze and beckoning the runners to the deceptive safety of their shadows. The Avone Forest loomed ancient and dark before them with many threatening secrets of its own. Only the most skilled woodsman ever dare enter its recesses and only for as short a time as possible. The ancient trees harbored many mysteries beneath their archaic branches and since time beyond record, concealed things that shun the light and thrive in the black recesses of the woods. It was a primeval partnership of mutual protection since the dawn of the earth. Even knowing this, she had little choice when weighing a certain death on the plain against a possible death in the forest. She knows darkness, and understands its ways, but she isn’t foolish to think she is immune from its dangers.

  Even though Nathan had trouble keeping pace, the thought of their jagged fangs ripping into his flesh gave him all the motivation he needed to keep moving. He hated being this dependent on someone else and especially someone he did not know well. However, he was also wise enough to know when he was in over his head. And here, in this strange place, he felt lost, confused and alone. The journal rested somewhere in this forsaken place and Nathan swore to himself he would get it back. Isha moved with speed and precision, darting through the tall grass with the ease of a jungle cat. Nathan felt himself giving in to the burning in his muscles and lungs. He panted in great gasps, sweat ran down his face soaking his cloak, sticking it to him as the sun beat down from the sky searing his exposed flesh while the pursuing jackals came ever nearer. In the distance, the edge of The Avone finally appeared like a tempting oasis, summoning them to rest beneath its deadly branches. The grasses of the plain thinned as the edge of the forest grew closer, tall bundles of overgrowth gave way to smaller patches of grass bundled together every few feet or so. Pines needles sailed through the air, seed cones the size of melons littered the forest floor beyond the forest edge as the smell of their brisk musky odor filled the air.

  “Into the trees,” Isha called to Nathan over her shoulder.

  Nathan made the mistake of looking back to check their pursuers. His heart froze for a moment as twelve gruesome hounds erupted from the plain’s grass, each as large as Nathan himself. They drew up into a tight circle around the two and parted ranks as a monstrously large jackal emerged displaying an angry, jagged scar over the remains of a blank soulless left eye. This creature made straight for Isha while the others turned toward Nathan, maw gaping, ready to tear quivering flesh from his body. Isha barely dodged the leaders attack but managed to snag the back of Nathan’s shirt, pulling him backward off his feet, dragging him to the nearest tree bodily hoisted him into its branches.

  But this time, speed didn’t aid her as a jackal snapped its jaws shut on the edge of Nathan’s cloak, wrenching and twisting as it ripped at it in bloodlust. The section of Nathan’s cloak gave way and fell to the ground with the animal ripping at the fabric. Clawing and jumping, they attempted to launch themselves at the trapped pair in hopes of clasping a foot to drag down their prey. Isha rained dagger upon dagger with deadly accuracy, sinking each missile to the hilt in the heart or brain, but her arsenal quickly depleted and the brood quickly learned to stay out of range.

  Then it became a waiting game, and they all knew it.

  “Fulfill your agreement,” gurgled a bestial voice from below.

  The sound came from the leader of the pack who leaned against the tree with paws outstretched.

  “In the devil’s hell, Anub,” jeered Isha.

  “We can wait,” said Anub as he took his paws from the tree, moving away from the tree to sit patiently nearby.

  As the Sun peered over the darkening horizon of the west, sunbeams clawed at the earth like long fingers of light only to disappear in the encroaching darkness. Nighttime brought a cool wind that brushed through the trees of Avone Forest, chilling Isha and Nathan who looked down at their hunters from their lofty perch. With mouths open and tongues dripping through grinning teeth, the jackals watched from below always quick to examine any movement from within the tree.

  “How long are they going to stay?” Nathan asked.

  “Till we’re dead,” Isha answered.

  Nathan checked the waiting hounds once again but noticed something odd.

  “How many were chasing us?”

  “I counted twelve including the leader.”

  “I count ten,” he said.

  Isha didn’t understand what he meant until a slender finger of shadow slid across the ground from the forest, moved silently across the earth in the direction of the nearest jackal. The beasts couldn’t see it from their angle but from where she sat it was clear. The first hound watched Isha with hateful glee. It flinched with surprise as black tendrils wrapped around its neck, stifling any cry and wrapping it in ebony death as it noiselessly pulled its victim into the forest. This process went unnoticed by the rest of the pack who continued to focus their attention on the treed couple.

  “We have to get out of this tree,” she insisted.

  “It’s death to go down there,” he said.

  “It’s death up here, the jackals aren’t the problem anymore,” she said in an uneasy tone as her eyes scanned the base of the tree.

  Then, another jackal disappeared into the forest but managed to yip a warning before it fell silent. The others turned in time to see dark shadows whip around them from the forest and drag them to their doom. Clawing and yelping, one-by-one the jackals disappeared into the bleak calmness of Avone Forest. Their three-legged leader managed to pull free and ran into the night bleeding and whining as it ran.

  “Get ready to jump and run. As you descend, don’t touch any of the lower branches,” said Isha.

  The sinister shadow began creeping its way up the cedar tree that held them, stopping only at the thin rays of sunlight that remained from the quickly vanishing sunset.

  “Now,” she yelled.

  They slid down the tree, dropping from limb-to-limb as quickly as possible, avoiding the lower branches until able to jump free. Landing with a thump, they fell on their backs and attempted to stand. They looked to discover their feet were covered in the creeping blackness. It gripped them like iron shackles and dragged them toward the bleakness of the forest floor. Nathan desperately beat at the darkness with a nearby tree-limb but without success. The darkness swarmed his arm, legs and chest as the sensation of drowning came to him with only moments till death. Thankfully, small explosions erupted around him with each concussion turning the night to mid-day for an instant. The grip on Nathan abruptly released, enabling him to sit upright and glimpse the retreating enemy. He saw thousands of ants seething and surging as if they were one flowing creature. Nearby, a small but bright light came forth followed by the warm glow of a torch and the sound of footsteps.

  “What madness makes a person attempt the Avone at dusk? There are far quicker, and may I add – more painless, ways of killing yourself than this,” said a short, chubby man carrying scraps of paper in his hand that gave off light so intense that Nathan shielded his eyes.

  The plump traveler was an ebony-skinned man, dressed in thick blue silken tunic gathered under his bulbous belly by a wide ornate leather belt, a white scarf with four tassels wrapped around his neck and thin black pants stretched over muscular legs. His tan leather boots rose to his knees and told of someone who traveled much, yet his tan skullcap hinted of the scholar. On the left side of his belt, he wore a large satchel stuffed with folded papers and on the other a rather rugged looking mace. His muscular arms were covered with bulging veins. And by the way he rested his gloved hand on the hilt of the weapon, he was no stranger to combat.

  “What think you, E
lhan? Seems we’ve cheated the forest of a late night snack,” said the chunky man as he scratched his black curly beard.

  Behind the portly man, stood a tall battle-hardened man holding a torch. His fierce hazel eyes flashed like lightening in the torchlight underneath his hood. Long locks of thick sun-blond hair hung about his battle-scarred cheekbone. In his left hand, he held the torch high in the air while in his right he gripped a large single-edged war-axe with the ease of a knife. Under his heavy woolen over-coat, Nathan glimpsed a vest of animal-hide, covering the tight-corded chest muscles and expansive shoulders of an experienced warrior. His deerskin pants stayed tucked into the tops of his leather soft-sole boots. He made little sound as he approached and moved with the dangerous grace of a hunting lion.

  “I’m District Warden Elhan Sungenes and this is Master Tractwright Dodie of the Tomewright Society,” said the warrior. As he approached, he dropped the head of the one-eyed jackal leader on the ground next to Nathan. “Tell me what you, and these abominations, are doing in my district.”

  “They were chasing me,” Nathan said as he distanced himself from the lifeless head.

  “That I know,” said Elhan. “Where’s your partner?”

  Nathan suddenly remembered that he hadn’t seen Isha since he was released. In a panic, he jumped too his feet and began looking around.