by Amy Cross
“I found it,” she stammers, as if she can't quite believe her luck. “I think so, anyway. I found something about Abberoth. Maybe we can use it.”
“But this Attaroth guy is -”
“Abberoth! Not Attaroth! I think that's someone else entirely.”
“Okay, but I'm still not clear on the whole Abberoth thing,” Anna says. “I know I haven't been paying the maximum amount of attention lately, but I don't think I've heard that name mentioned before. Could you -”
“Got to go!” Sam says, turning and hurrying to the door with the book clutched in her hands.
“Should I come with you?” Anna calls after her, but Sam's already gone.
Wandering to the open doorway, Anna stops and watches as Sam races out of the cemetery and disappears into the distance. Scrunching her nose a little, Anna looks at the plume of black smoke, and for a moment she wonders what might have happened. She's been so busy dealing with all the drama of Scott and that Donna Anglesy girl, she's not spent much time at the cottage and – as a result – she feels as if she's out of the loop when it comes to all the strange happenings in Rippon. She's accustomed to Sam being intense, of course, and she's also accustomed to Sam muttering about odd things, but now she's starting to think that she should have paid more attention. She's even -
Suddenly she hears a whooshing sound from above, and she looks up just in time to see a large shape come plummeting down from the clear blue sky. Startled, she takes a step back just as the shape slams into the ground just a few feet away, and then she stares as a cloud of dust and smoke rises from the object and begins to clear.
“What the...”
The cloud clears a little more, revealing a pair of large, burned stone wings protruding from the top of the crumpled shape that just fell from the sky.
Feeling a shudder pass through her (non-existent) chest, Anna takes a step forward and peers more closely at whatever just landed in front of her. Slowly, she realizes that she's seen this thing before, and the stone wings twitch slightly.
“Sparky?” she says cautiously, as a few residual flames ripples across the charred lump. “Um... Is that you?”
***
“I got it!” Sam yells breathlessly, racing down the street and then finally – once again – clattering into the railing. “I found a reference to Abberoth! I think we can use Faraday's notes to -”
Stopping suddenly, she looks around and realizes that there's no sign of the devil.
“It's okay,” she calls out, “I'm alone. I don't think anyone followed me. I don't know where Abberoth and his buddies are right now, but we've got time. We just have to hurry. I don't understand everything in this book, but maybe you do. It's safe, just come out from wherever you're hiding.”
She waits.
Silence.
“Hello?” she says cautiously, as she begins to feel the first slow, rippling sense of concern starting to rise into her thoughts. “Where are you? I'm just me, it's Sam, I -”
And then she sees the burn marks on the other side of the river.
There's a drifting layer of fine ash floating on the water's surface, forming a rough line that runs all the way to the far shore. Then, at the edge of the shore, there are several charred clumps on the grass, running up the side of the shallow hill that runs away from the edge of town and off toward the fields that stretch for miles and miles beyond Rippon. Squinting slightly, Sam sees that the little burn marks head off away from town, and now the concern in her mind has solidified and turned to full shock.
And disappointment.
“No,” she whispers, hurrying down the stone steps and making her way to the edge of the river, “please, you can't have...”
But he has.
The burn marks, she realizes now, are footprints. The first time the Devil tried to cross the river, he began to burst into flames as soon as he tried to cross the boundary and leave the town. Now it's clear to Sam that – after she ran back to the cemetery – he must have tried again and again, and this time he looks to have forced his way across the boundary and beyond the town's perimeter. Whatever state he was in by the time he reached the river's other side, he must have been burning as he stumbled away, and now he's...
“You left?” she whispers, filled with fear as she stands clutching the book. “You ran away? Seriously?”
She waits, just in case by some miracle she's wrong, but all hope has already left her.
“You promised you'd stay,” she continues, and now there are tears of anger in her eyes. “You promised you'd stay and help me.”
“It's just my nature,” she remembers him saying a little while earlier. “I'm no hero. I always take the easy way out. I can't fight who and what I really am. As you're so fond of reminding me, I'm literally the Devil.”
“You coward,” she whispers. “You goddamn filthy fu-”
“And you must be the gardener,” another, scratchier voice says suddenly.
Spinning around, Sam looks up toward the railing and sees that one of the wraith-like figures from the carriage is watching her. Hunched and with a withered, skull-like face, the figure tilts its head slightly as it stares at Sam.
“I am the Vassal of His Lordship Abberoth,” the creature continues. “He would very much appreciate an audience with you, Ms. Marker. Just between you and me, I'd strongly suggest that you give him what he wants. If you don't, he might become rather forceful. And when he gets forceful, whole worlds tend to end up burning.”
Chapter Eight
“Gah!” Anna yells as she continues to wave her hands through the smoke that's still rising from Sparky's crumpled body. “This isn't achieving anything!”
She knows full well that she's having no impact on the smoke – seeing as she has no physical body – but she still feels like she should do something. Waving her hands around futilely, she moves around the crash-site and tries to think of some way she can actually help. Then again, she's been doing exactly the same thing for several minutes now, with no success.
And then, suddenly, a faint groan emerges from the crumpled form.
“Sparky?” Anna gasps, taking a step back. “Are you... It is you, isn't it?”
Slowly, and with obvious pain, the stone angel begins to sit up. His body, once white and mottled with cracks and a few patches of moss, is now charred almost beyond recognition, and there are thick cracks running through his chest and up onto his right shoulder. He lets out another groan, and his damaged wings twitch slightly as chunks of stone fall from damaged sections of his muscular physique.
“Where have you been, Sparky?” Anna asks, kneeling in front of him. “We were so worried! You said you were going away to get yourself together, but it's been years!”
She waits, and slowly Sparky turns and looks at her.
“We were worried,” she continues. “A lot's happened while you've been away.”
“There's a barrier,” he replies, his voice sounding much harsher and more pained than before. “It took everything I have and more, just to break through and get back to Rippon. I don't even know how I managed.”
“A barrier?” Anna replies, furrowing her brow. “What kind of barrier?”
As if to answer that question, a sparrow plummets from the sky and lands dead on the ground just a few feet away. With its legs sticking up into the air, the sparrow begins to smolder.
“I sensed something dark stirring in another land,” Sparky says, “so I went to investigate. I'm sorry it took so long, but I couldn't exactly send a postcard. I followed this threat from one world to the next, from Caramazor to the Great Library to the ruins of Sangreth to the crater at Lakehurst, on and on for what seemed like forever. And then last night I realized the threat had moved again, and that it was coming this way. I would have been back a few hours ago, but that barrier...”
He looks up at the blue sky.
“At first I thought I wouldn't be able to get through at all,” he explains. “Something very, very powerful is intent on isolating th
is town so that it can complete its plans. I'm worried that the name of that powerful entity is... Abberoth.”
“Oh yeah,” Anna replies, “I heard Sam mention that name just now.”
“She did?” He turns to her. “Are you sure?”
“Well, pretty sure. She came back and was acting all weird, going through the books Faraday left behind, and then she muttered something about Abberoth and then she ran off again. To be honest, she seemed kinda distracted. I don't think she heard a word I was saying to her, but... I suppose most of what I say is just nonsense, anyway.”
“Where is she now?”
Gasping, Sparky starts to get up, only to let out a grunt of pain as one of his legs begins to crumble. Slumping back down, he hesitates for a moment before trying again, but this time he doesn't even get as far. He pauses, as if he's trying to come up with another plan, and then he turns to Anna again with a trace of fear in his eyes.
“I can't go to her,” he explains. “Anna, please, it's important. You have to get Sam and bring her to me. There's not much time and I need to tell her everything I've discovered, before it's too late.”
“Well, that doesn't sound too good,” she replies.
“Hurry!”
“I don't know where she's gone!”
“Then find -”
Before he can get another word out, Sparky slumps forward, landing hard on his elbows. His broken wings twitch, with one of them almost completely severed from his back.
“What do I do?” Anna stammers. “I'm not good in a crisis!”
“Find Sam!” Sparky groans, slowly raising his head and looking at her. This time, there's a large crack running all the way down his left cheek, and stone dust falls from the wound. “You have to... find Sam... I...”
“I'll track her down,” Anna says, getting to her feet. “Even if it takes me all day, I'll track her down and tell her you need her!”
She turns to run, but suddenly Sparky reaches out and grabs her ankle, holding her in place.
“Wait,” he whispers, his eyes widening with shock. “Help me up.”
“But -”
“There's no time. Help me up.”
Anna opens her mouth to argue with him, but something about his shattered form makes her realize that she has to do what she's told. As soon as Sparky releases his grip on her ankle, she steps around him and reaches down, supporting him as he finally starts lifting himself slowly and painfully from the ground.
She struggles, but somehow she manages to support Sparky and raise him up from the crater he caused when he slammed into the ground.
“Inside!” he gasps. “Take me inside!”
“Sam isn't there.”
“There's no time for that now.”
“But you said -”
“There's no time!”
Not really knowing what he means, Anna starts helping him toward the doorway. Their progress is painfully slow, and Sparky lets out a series of gasps and groans as he almost trips and falls several times. Finally, however, they get to the doorway and Sparky limps into the cottage, and then he sits on the chair next to the dining room table. As he does so, the remains of his right wing break away and fall to the floor.
“You're hurt,” Anna says, helping him down. “I mean you're really, really hurt, aren't you?”
“There's no time to fetch Sam,” he replies, wincing slightly. “When I said it took a lot out of me to break through that barrier, I wasn't quite honest with you. It did more than take a lot out of me, Anna. I don't have much longer left.”
“What do you mean?” she asks cautiously, standing in front of him. “You'll be alright, Sparky. Nothing bad can happen to you.”
“I was going to help Sam,” he replies breathlessly, “but now you'll have to do it.”
“I'm not sure I'd be very good at that,” she says. “I'm more of a sidekick. Maybe I can help you get better, though. What do you need? Aspirin? Some bandages?”
“I've always wondered what death would feel like,” he continues. “For something like me, I mean. I wasn't even sure that it would ever come, but now it's approaching. I can hear its footsteps getting closer.”
“No, Sparky, you can't be -”
“Kneel down.”
“What?”
“Kneel down. It's important.”
She hesitates, before kneeling in front of him and staring up into his damaged, cracked stone face.
“You'll be okay,” she says, with fear in her eyes. “I know you will. You have to be.”
“There's no time to tell you everything,” he replies, wincing again as he slowly reaches up toward her face. “Not verbally. This would be difficult even if you had a body. If you're a ghost, I don't even know that the process will work properly, but I have to try. It's the only option.” He puts his hand against her cheek. “Do you feel that?”
“Um... No. Not really.”
“Neither do I.”
“I don't really exist anymore,” she points out. “I'm sorry, but I died. Again. As a zombie, I mean. It was during this stuff that happened while you were away. I was rotting and -”
“Stop talking.”
“But it's not my fault! I just started rotting and then -”
“Be quiet!” he snaps.
She falls silent.
“It'll work,” he continues, staring deep into her eyes. “It has to. Sam needs to know these things.”
“What things?” Anna asks. “You're starting to really scare me, Sparky. What things does Sam need to know?”
“These things,” he says, his voice trembling with pain. “The things I think I'm transferring into your mind right now. Not that you really have a mind, anyway. Not a physical one. I can only pray that somehow the process still work, even if you can't feel it happening.”
“I don't feel anything,” she tells him. “Nothing at all.”
“Have a little faith that it'll work,” he replies. “I can feel it leaving me. I just hope it's reaching you. Sam's smart, but she's woefully ill-prepared for anything Abberoth might have planned. If she's going to have even the slightest hope of getting the world out of this mess, she needs to know the things I'm telling you. And I've given you a little extra, too. Just in case it works. It's all I can do, Anna. I can only give you this and hope for the best.”
“You're going to save us, Sparky, aren't you?” she asks, with his hand still on her cheek. “Please, Sparky, tell me you'll put everything right. Tell me you've come to make everything okay again.”
She waits, and slowly she sees more and more dust starting to crumble away from his face.
“No no no!” she gasps. “Don't go! You can't leave us again!”
“I had any forms before this one,” he replies. “Tell Sam she needs to find the book that -”
Whatever he tries to say next, the words are lost as his jaw turns to dust and falls away. He tilts his head slightly, keeping his gaze fixed on Anna for a few more seconds until finally his eyes too crumble to nothing, and then what's left of his head falls down and smashes against the floor.
“No!” she shouts, just as his hand turns to dust and falls from her cheek, and then she watches in horror as his entire body crumbles to nothing. “Sparky!” she screams. “Nothing happened! I didn't feel anything, it didn't work! Sparky, come back!”
Chapter Nine
“I'm glad you made the smart choice,” the Vassal says as he leads Sam across the town square. “So many people in your position would have panicked and done something stupid. You must be smarter than you look.”
“There has to be something in here,” she mutters under her breath, desperately turning to another page in Faraday's old book as she reads and walks at the same time. “Why does it all have to be so vague and cryptic?”
“That knife embedded in your head is a rather arresting sight,” the Vassal continues, turning to look at the hilt that's poking out from the top of her skull. “Without the state of grace that exists in this town, I imagine you would be in co
nsiderable pain. Indeed, from what I know of human physiology, I find it hard to believe that you would still be alive.”
“Come on, come on,” she whispers, reading another paragraph. “It's in here somewhere, I know it. I just need to read better! Just -”
Suddenly she bumps against something, and she looks up to see that she's walked straight into one of the knee-high posts designed for chained bicycles. Before she can look back down at the book, however, she spots the large carriage still parked outside the cafe, and the tall, imposing figure of Abberoth watching her with those same smoldering eyes.
“Just focus, Sam,” she says under her breath, looking back down at the book. “You can do this! You're not -”
Suddenly a girl smashes through the cafe's front window and slams against the cobbles, rolling several meters before coming to a halt.
A moment later, a tall, robed figure steps out through the broken window and walks toward the groaning, bloodied girl. Reaching down, the figure lifts the girl up and smiles as he sees the blood pouring from her wounds.
“Stop!” Sam yells, rushing forward, although she slows as she sees that the figure's face is scarred and damaged.
“Leave me,” the tall figure sneers. “I'm busy torturing Samantha Marker for information.”
“I'm Sam Marker!” Sam shouts. “That's just a girl who works in the local library!”
“It is?” the figure asks, furrowing his brow as he stares at the dying girl's bloodied face. “Then I shall waste no more time on her.”
With that, he puts his hands around her head and squeezes tight. Barely even conscious, the girl lets out a series of pained groans as her skull breaks, and then Abberoth pushes his hands together until blood and brain matter are forced out between his fingers. Finally the girl's corpse slumps to the ground, landing in a dead, crumpled heap.
“Why did you do that?” Sam asks, her eyes filled with horror. “That was Victoria, the librarian's assistant!”
“You know why I'm here, Ms. Marker,” Abberoth replies, stepping over the girl's body and approaching Sam. “The Devil has many tricks, but now he finds himself cornered. I will root him out and bring him to his knees before me, but this might take quite some time. I would prefer to dispense with any unpleasantness and get down to business, so tell me... Where is he?”