Legs still aching from descending the lighthouse, she caught her second wind when faced with death and she ran.
Although Leo instigated their flight, Verity found herself taking the lead, pulling him in her wake. When he began to labour, she slowed her pace, but the imp-like creatures were gaining, their clawed hands and feet scoring the ground.
She knew Leo wouldn't be able to go on much longer, but she couldn't leave him; she couldn't let the monsters have him to play with.
The buildings towered over them, dark abodes that offered the promise of numerous hiding places, but they looked too scary to enter.
Something moved and a figure jumped out of the doorway of a building, startling her. She stopped running and stared at the large man dressed in a tattered black suit. He stood shaking, his brown, oval face speckled with blood, and his black moustache as down turned as his mouth. He levelled a shotgun in her direction.
Verity took an involuntary step back.
“Duck,” the man screamed, and Verity hit the deck, pulling Leo down with her as a series of loud bangs reverberated through the air.
She heard the pitter-patter of lead pellets striking buildings, followed by screams and mewling sounds. Slowly, she lifted her head and looked back to see the imps peppered with buckshot. Those that had taken the brunt of the pellets lay on the ground, surrounded by pools of noxious smelling blood. The ones further back nursed their wounds. Some limped; others crawled. They looked pitiful.
Footsteps approached, and Verity jumped to her feet. Leo stood up beside her and dusted himself down.
“Are you all right, Leo?” the man with the gun asked.
“It's been a long time, Barrabas.”
Barrabas laughed. “You’re the last person I expected to see here.”
“I didn't have much choice.” Leo shook his head. “You were stupid to follow Melantha into this place.”
“I know that now.” He levelled the gun, pumped it and fired off another couple of shots at the imps. “Have you seen Melantha?”
“No.”
“I see you've found Verity Crowe, though,” he said, the words looking like they stung his mouth.
“You know me?” Verity asked, her ears ringing from the guns report.
Barrabas nodded, his expression hardening.
Verity frowned.
“Yes, you're one of the Crowe descendants.” He looked at Verity with spiteful brown eyes.
Leo lifted the tip of his sword to Barrabas's throat. “If you hurt her in any way, I'll kill you.”
Barrabas pushed the blade aside. “There's more things for me to be afraid of in this place than your stick, Leo.”
“Yes, my curse for one.”
Barrabas chewed his lip but didn't reply.
Leo lowered his sword. He looked at Verity. “Shall we take him with us?”
Verity stared at Barrabas, could feel the hate emanating back. “At least if he's with us, I won't have to keep looking over my shoulder.” She indicated Barrabas should walk in front, then she followed.
CHAPTER 32
The albino man swept towards Zen like a vicious tornado, the swish of displaced air as he employed the blades sounding like a weird flute, its tune death.
“Hold on,” Zen said, finding his voice at the last moment.
The albino man hesitated, seemingly frozen in mid stride, the blades unnaturally twirling around his fingers, scything the air in readiness.
“Well?”
“I'll do it.”
“You said that before.”
“This time I mean it.”
“You meant it last time.”
“No, this time I really mean it. A bet's a bet, right?”
The albino man pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes, his red eyes flaming like burning coals. “Lie to me again, and ...”
Zen risked a glance along the street. Melantha had her back to him, too caught up in her search to notice events unfolding behind her. “I understand.”
The albino man disappeared back into the shadows, but Zen could still hear the sound of scything blades, like a helicopter hovering in the wings. He shivered. What was he going to do now?
The tip of the knife in his waistband pricked his leg and he grabbed the handle and bit his lip, deliberating.
“Do it,” the albino man hissed.
Zen withdrew the knife and walked towards Melantha. Each step felt harder than the last. His legs were like lead. He gripped the handle of the knife, his sweaty palm making it hard to hold securely.
His temples throbbed, the skin on either side pulsing like a taut drum skin.
Whatever happened, there would be no happy ever after for any of them, of that he was certain.
Melantha turned around and looked at him. She smiled until she saw the knife in his hand. Then she frowned, her scowl a steely mask radiating anger, made all the more hideous by the scars.
“Son?”
Zen gritted his teeth. “Have you found him yet?” Sweat beaded on his forehead and trickled down his back.
Melantha looked pensive, unsure. “Him?”
Zen licked his lips. “The albino man.” He carried on walking towards her, trying to remain calm and appear sincere. His throat felt dry. He needed a cigarette. More than nicotine, he needed drugs. Copious drugs. Something to numb the senses. Something to take the edge off. Something to alter a reality more bizarre than any drug induced world.
Melantha narrowed her eyes, as though trying to look right into his soul. He could feel her studying him and he tightened his grip on the knife, hoping she couldn't see through him.
His heart pounded.
Another step; eight feet away.
He felt dizzy with fear.
“Son ...”
Did he have terror written all over his face? Could she see it in the nervous twitch that affected his right eye, his faltering steps, or his defeated posture?
Another step; six feet.
Whatever Melantha saw, he felt certain she saw through him.
Another step; four feet, close enough to slash out or lunge, close enough to smell her on the air, orange and jasmine.
One more step; two feet away, close enough to reach out and stab her through the ribs, puncturing her heart and finishing her campaign of revenge.
Zen gripped the knife. Heart thumping.
Time seemed to stop.
She had just saved his life. Was this how he planned to repay her?
Unused to using his left hand, he wouldn't be able to drive the knife home as hard or as accurately as he would have liked, but he wanted to make it as quick and as painless as possible. He didn't want her to suffer.
Pain erupted in his side and he looked down to see that Melantha had pre-empted him. She pushed her knife home, ramming it into his side, twisting and turning, her lips curled back and her teeth bared. Zen couldn't believe it. He opened his mouth to speak, but only managed a garbled groan.
The pain felt unbearable. Zen dropped his knife, letting it clatter to the ground so he could grab the one in Melantha's hand.
“I'm sorry, son. I know you didn't want to do it. But don't worry, I'll make them pay.” She pushed harder. A tear trickled from her eye.
Zen gritted his teeth and summoned all his strength to push her hand away. The knife slid out of his side. Seeing his own blood dripping from the blade made him feel queasy. He staggered back, his good hand clutched at the wound to stem the flow of blood.
“Shit ...” he muttered.
CHAPTER 33
Verity's head spun, her thoughts like dodgem cars in a carnival of horror.
Leo walked beside her, his sword still drawn, pointing accusingly at Barrabas.
The street narrowed, the shadows impenetrable black holes. If she looked at them for long enough, they moved, becoming a whirl of motion that implied something was hiding in them.
Amplified in the Stygian gloom, their own footfalls sounded like something sinister trailing them. Hunting them. Relentless.
“We have to be careful,” Leo said.
Verity expected to find herself confronted by the inhabitants at every corner and when she wasn't, it only intensified her fear.
Then she saw Melantha. Zen staggered in front of her as though drunk.
At the sight of the woman that caused her father’s death, all Verity’s thoughts of helping Zen dissolved. Her palms went sweaty and her pulse increased. She wanted to run and hug Melantha.
Barrabas shouted something unintelligible.
Melantha and Zen looked across. Zen attempted to stem the flow of blood from a wound in his side. Face scrunched up in pain, he staggered back.
Melantha smiled, and Verity’s heart melted.
Barrabas ran towards Melantha and Verity followed him, wanting nothing more than to embrace the object of her affections.
After a few steps, she heard a low rumble and she looked up, alarmed to see a flock of the winged creatures descending from the lighthouse eaves. They flew at Verity like a coven of cackling witches, wings fluttering. She ducked, her heart hammering.
As the first creatures attacked, Leo parried and thrust with his sword, skewering them to elicit wailing notes like a mad conductor.
“We've got to get to Melantha and stop her,” he said, ducking as a creature stole the hat from his head.
Through the whirlwind of wings, Verity saw Barrabas reach Melantha, who nodded her head as he gesticulated, telling her some tale.
Zen crouched on the ground, head bowed so that his nest of serpent hair dangled over his face.
Verity summoned all her strength and resolve and ran towards Melantha, batting the creatures away. She had to reach Melantha. Had to help her.
Leo ran alongside, trying to help her ward off the winged monsters, but it was no good.
She watched as Melantha handed Barrabas a book, which he slipped inside his coat before running in the opposite direction.
With Barrabas gone, Melantha turned to Zen. He looked pale; she looked angry.
At Verity’s side, the bird creatures hampered Leo, causing him to fall back.
Melantha and Verity were all that existed. As though sucked into a vacuum, they lived in a little world of their own; and Verity knew she couldn't harm Melantha. She was beautiful. A dark angel.
Melantha smiled. “Verity. Nice of you to join me.”
She saw Zen staggering towards Melantha, the knife shaking in his hand.
“Nooo,” Verity screamed, lunging towards Zen as she realised his plan.
Melantha frowned; spun around.
Zen slashed out, but Melantha stepped aside, avoiding his attack. Committed to the movement, Zen lost his balance and crashed to the ground. He squealed in pain.
Verity rushed forward, eager to be close to the object of her desire. She felt euphoric; had never felt so much unadulterated love for anyone before. It made her feel giddy. She would do anything for Melantha, anything at all.
Before she could warn Melantha, she saw Zen pull his arm back, then sweep it forward, releasing the knife when his arm reached full extension. The sharp blade spun through the air, and either by luck or skill, it caught Melantha on the side of her leg, parting the skin like a watermelon.
Melantha screamed, the sound almost inhuman. She stumbled back, shaking her head. “No, you fool. What have you done?”
Verity couldn't believe her eyes as she watched Melantha transform into a hideous harridan covered in scars. It seemed as if the sun vanished, leaving darkness in its wake.
She clutched at her chest, her mouth open as she shook her head. She couldn't believe that only moments before she yearned for Melantha to embrace her.
How could she have ever believed Melantha was beautiful? Looking at the vicious scars on her face, she felt sick. But she also felt hurt, knowing she had been deceived.
Bottom lip pushed out, teeth clenched, she charged at Melantha and grabbed the hand with the knife in it. Melantha struggled, spittle flying from her lips.
“You bitch,” Verity screamed. “You stole our money and killed my father.”
Distracted by the noise, the flying creatures stopped attacking Leo and winged towards Melantha and Verity.
“I'll kill you,” Melantha wheezed, wrestling Verity for the knife.
The first of the flying creatures arrived, vicious teeth snapping at the air. Melantha tried to duck, but one of the creatures landed on her shoulder and started nibbling on her ear. She tried to grab the creature with her free hand, but it sank its teeth into her finger, severing the tip and chewing on the grisly morsel as it flew away.
With her attention diverted by the winged creatures, Verity snaked her foot around Melantha’s leg and then pushed. Caught off guard, Melantha let go of the knife and flailed her arms as she tried to keep her balance but it was no good. She landed on her back, teeth bared like a vicious animal. Verity dived on top of her, using her momentum to drive the knife into Melantha's stomach.
Melantha gagged. Her expression turned to surprise.
“No ...” She looked down at the knife. “It wasn't meant to be like this. Son ...” she looked at Zen as he gained his feet, holding his side to stem the flow of blood.
Zen coughed and spat on the ground.
Verity forced the knife deeper, pressing the point home. Although she should have felt sad, guilty and shocked, she didn't. She killed with impunity.
When Melantha stopped moving, Verity stood up, averting her eyes from the monster at her feet.
Zen hobbled across. “Are you okay?” he asked.
Verity nodded. “What happened to Melantha? How did she change like that?”
“I guessed that her skin contained the spell, and that cutting it would break it. Looks like I was right.”
Verity stepped forward and reached out to assist Zen when she heard a sound behind her. She turned, horrified to see Melantha lurch to her feet.
“You may have broken the charm, but you can’t kill me that easily,” Melantha snarled, sliding the knife from her stomach.
“It’s over,” Zen said. “Your people, they’re all dead.”
Melantha grimaced, mutating her scarred visage into something even more grotesque. “But our legacy lives on forever.”
Then she charged towards Verity and Zen, lips curled back, teeth bared. Verity instinctively pushed Zen aside, then threw herself in the opposite direction. She hit the ground hard, aggravating the wounds across her torso. She closed her eyes, sucked a breath to quell the pain.
When she opened her eyes, she saw Melantha hovering above her like a vulture, the knife a talon extending from her fist.
Verity wanted to close her eyes again, to shield her from the horror, but she couldn’t look away, felt as transfixed as when Melantha bore the Glamour.
“When I said it’s over, I meant it,” Zen said, lurching into view behind his mother, the knife he’d thrown at her to break the spell raised above his head.
Melantha turned, blood dripping from the wound in her stomach. Before she could react, Zen rammed the blade into her chest, once, twice, three times, his face a rictus of anger and pain.
Melantha stumbled back, and despite the agony she must have felt, she looked sad.
A furious sound of beating wings filled the air, and the black wave of flying creatures swept in like a tsunami, smothering Melantha.
Next second, the world started to spin, blurring at the edges, getting faster and faster, and as if waking from a dream, the Shadowland vanished.
Feeling dizzy, Verity closed her eyes. When she opened them, she found herself lying in the high street in Trinity. Leo stood close by, sheathing his sword. Zen sat in the road. He looked across with tears streaming down his cheeks.
In the distance, she heard the sound of a horse’s hooves and she turned to see Melantha’s caravan trundling away with Barrabas at the reins.
“We've got to stop him,” Verity said, gritting her teeth
. “He’s got the book.”
“Then take this.” Zen threw the bloodstained white knife across the road and Verity picked it up.
“Aren’t you coming?” she asked.
Zen indicated his injuries. “I won’t be able to keep up.”
“Wait, I'll come with you,” Leo said, unsheathing his sword.
Glad of the support, Verity nodded. “We’ll be back,” she said to Zen.
Then without another word, she ran after the caravan.
CHAPTER 34
Dark clouds blanketed the sky, adding to the pervasive atmosphere.
At the corner of the road, Verity saw the back of the caravan in the distance and she increased her speed. Leo kept pace at her side. The mysterious faces hiding in the caravan’s design seemed to scowl at her. Ignoring them, she ran to the front of the caravan and looked up, strengthening her grip on the knife as she prepared herself to face Barrabas ... but he wasn't there.
The grey horse whinnied; it sounded almost like a laugh.
Confused, Verity looked around, across the windswept fields and back along the road, but she couldn't see Barrabas anywhere.
The horse trotted along, unconcerned there was no one at the reins. She looked at Leo and he pointed at the caravan.
She clambered up to the driver's seat and peered through a small window; spotted movement within the shadows.
She grabbed the latch to open the door and heard an audible click emanate from inside the caravan.
The noise sounded familiar. She had heard it in the Shadowland, just before Barrabas shot at the winged creatures.
Verity dropped down to lie on the floor between the driver's seat and the horse, and she heard a roaring explosion and splinters of wood showered down around her as Barrabas opened fire with the shotgun.
Startled, the horse started to gallop along the road, jostling Verity around like a rag doll. She grabbed the edge of the seat, afraid she would fall.
Another shot rang out, the pellets punching a fist-sized hole in the front of the caravan.
Despite her ears ringing from the gun’s report, she thought she heard screaming that seemed to come from the very walls of the caravan – or it might have been the wind whistling in her ears as the caravan sped along the road.
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