by Tim O'Rourke
Fandel couldn’t give a shit about the ‘busy-body teachers’ and the ‘know-it-alls’ from social services, they could ask all the questions they wanted, but not just yet. The time wasn’t right. Once Anna and the Queen were both dead, he had planned to slit his nephew’s throat anyway, and then disappear through his doorway into Endra and never return.
So until that day had arrived, he didn’t want any interference from the authorities to scupper his plans.
Sitting at the kitchen table, Fandel rubbed his temples with his pointed fingers. The thuds inside his head had already turned into bangs and he felt as if he just might puke. Then Fandel had an idea.
He would report his nephew missing to the police. Yes! He would go to the police and say that his poor little nephew, traumatized out of his tiny mind due to his parent’s sudden death and who he loved with all his heart and soul, had done a bunk and run away to London. But he would need something; a letter left by Zach in his own hand, declaring his unhappiness and desire to runaway to London.
Grinning to himself, Fandel went to his study and found himself a piece of writing paper and a pen. Turning to his many bookshelves, he ran his fingers along the spines of the books until he found the one he was looking for. Pulling it from the shelf, Fandel turned it over in his hands. The book was bound in a mauve coloured hide and the pages were yellowed and dog-eared. Smiling, Fandel looked down at the title.
The Primeval Book of Magic and Sorcery
Volume Six hundred and Sixty-Six
Fandel didn’t know who had written the book and conjured up the hundreds of spells and potion recipes within its pages, but he had a good idea. He hadn’t read or seen the other six hundred and sixty five volumes either and had often wondered what glorious and devious concoctions might be hidden within their pages.
Fandel went to his desk and sat down. Placing the large book before him, he began to thumb through the pages. His wizened eyes scanned each page in turn as he sought out an appropriate spell. There were pages of curses and magical spells for all kinds of bewitchments, but he didn’t want to turn Zach inside-out so his intestines and brains were on show for all to see and he didn’t want to replace his arms with his legs and watch him scuttle across the room like a malformed crab. He just wanted to…and then he saw it…just what he’d been looking for.
With nervous excitement, he ran his finger across the page title and said aloud:
‘The Demented Hand of Deceit.’
Scanning the page, he ran one crooked finger beneath the lines of words. He read the words over and over again until he was confident that he could remember them. Once he was ready, he closed the book, sat back in his chair and closed his eyes. Picturing his pathetic nephew in his mind’s eye, Fandel felt repulsed at the sight of him. Swallowing a mouthful of bile, he stretched out his right hand and began to say the words he had learnt from the book.
Lips flapping up and down like sails in a storm, he whispered the spell over and over again. The words and phrases circled the image of Zach that he held in his mind. Lips moving faster and his voice becoming louder, Fandel began to chant:
Hand of boy, hand of joy,
Give his fingers
For me to destroy
Take his fist, take his gift
Replace his knuckles
With thy mist
Make my hand, change my hand
Let it dissolve
Into grains of sand
Chanting the words over and over again, spittle began to fly from his lips and splatter the back of the hand that he held out before him. As the spittle touched his paper-thin skin it began to bubble and blister. Over and over Fandel repeated the words. His narrow chest began to rise and he tapped his feet in time on the wooden floor.
Then, just as he had commanded in the spell, his fingers began to breakup, shift and disintegrate into a fine shower of sand. Fandel’s hand fell apart and the sand blew about the room as if trapped in a tornado. The sand hovered in the air just above his sleeve where his gnarled old hand had once been.
Make it new, make it brew
Reform my hand
So it’s young and true!
Spitting the last of the spell from his lips like poison, the grains of sand hovered for a moment then shot up his sleeve. Shaking in his seat, Fandel gripped his arm with his left hand. He opened his eyes and stared down at the empty space. Then, as if by magic, five fingers began to ooze from the end of his shirtsleeve. These fingers were attached to a hand which in turn was attached to a wrist.
Looking down at his new hand, Fandel sighed in wonder. He placed his left hand next to it which was liver-spotted and wrinkled like a carrier-bag. The other was that of a young boy’s, smooth and unmarked. This was the hand of his nephew. Feeling very pleased with himself, Fandel plucked up the pen and paper and began to write a letter from Zach. This is what he wrote:
To my dear Uncle Fandel,
Even though your kindness shows no boundaries, and you have been a wonderful uncle to me and my sister Anna since the death of our parents, I have taken the decision that I need some time on my own.
However much I have tried, I cannot come to terms with the fact that my mum and dad have gone and as you know this has caused me great sadness. Anna is dealing with her grief in her own way and taken to her bed in a state of deep depression.
It hurts me to see you so worried about us and I am forever grateful to you for all the love and kindness you have shown Anna in your attempts to make her better. I therefore believe that if I were not around then you would be able to give her your full attention.
I want you to know that I have decided to run away to London where I hope I will be able to find the peace that I am looking for.
Please don’t look for me as I know that this will take you away from all the love and support that you are giving Anna as she tries to deal with the loss of mum and dad. I just need to deal with that loss in my own way.
With all my love dear uncle
Zach Black
Putting down the pen, Fandel admired his cunning. He read the letter over and over until tears brimmed in the corners of his eyes then spilt down his emaciated cheeks. Placing the letter in an envelope, he couldn’t hold back any longer and he sat and rocked with uncontrollable laughter.
Gripping his sides, Fandel roared and he feared that he might just pee himself as the excitement that he felt bordered on ecstasy. Even as he stood and pulled on his overcoat, his lips trembled as he tried to control himself. He couldn’t very well stroll into the local police station and report his nephew missing while he screamed with hysterical laughter. Placing the letter into his coat pocket, he rummaged through his desk drawers. He knew there were some pictures of his nephew and niece in there somewhere. His idiotic brother would send him pictures each year so he could see how much they had grown. Fandel had never put any of the pictures on show; he had thrown them into the drawer and forgotten all about them – until now. Now they would come in handy. Now those pictures of his nephew would be priceless. Spying one of Zach under a pile of notes and old correspondence, he picked it up. Holding it out before him, Fandel looked at it with disgust, as if some putrid smell were emanating from it. Placing it in his pocket with the letter, he stepped out into the cold.
Fandel was sure he had thought of everything. A letter in his nephew’s own handwriting declaring his love for his uncle and his desire to runaway, and a picture for the missing person’s poster the police would want to make.
Trying to stifle another fit of the giggles, Fandel pulled his collar up against the snow that had begun to fall and made his way into town.
Chapter 14
Within minutes of waking, Zach, William and Neanna had gathered together the supplies Warden had left them. They read the note he had attached to the slings, and looked at each other.
‘Explosives? Handle with care?’ William said aloud. ‘Use with catapult if necessary!’ Grinning, William folded the piece of paper and stuffed it into his trouser
pocket. ‘Awesome!’
Without looking back they left the clearing and made their way deep into the Howling Forests.
Racing through the trees and undergrowth, Zach sensed an urgency from his two new friends. William led the way; his strange looking spectacles helping him navigate in the darkness. Through the bulbous lenses he saw his path amongst the trees as if wearing a pair of night vision goggles.
Zach still found it hard to believe that just hours ago he had been unaware of Endra and his new friends. They hadn’t existed. Well, not to him anyway. It seemed incredible to him that while he had been living his life on Earth (or was that in Earth), William and Neanna had been racing each night across the desert in search of the doorway that he was to appear through. Another thing that puzzled him or rather troubled him if he were being honest with himself; he didn’t know if he was up to the task of saving his sister and the Queen of Endra.
He had never done anything heroic before and the quest that lay before him made his stomach churn like a cement mixer. It wasn’t that he feared for his own safety. What worried him was that his friends seemed to have placed all their hopes on him saving their Queen and he didn’t want to let them down.
Pushing his fears to the back of his mind and with his crossbows slamming against his thighs, Zach ran behind Neanna and William into the darkness that awaited them.
High up in the Splinter, Throat stood at the end of the bed and looked down upon the Queen of Endra. She seemed almost lost in the huge, oversized bed. Her perfect white hair fanned out across two velvet pillows like wings. Her perfect face looked peaceful as she slept, unaware that her kingdom was being ripped apart. She had fallen asleep a month ago and her hazel eyes hadn’t opened since. Maneuvering around the edge of the bed, Throat’s spiderpedes worked overtime as they repaired his cloak which continued to disintegrate all around him.
With his skeletal fingers, he took hold of the Queens wrist and felt for her pulse. Just beneath her delicate skin he felt the faintest of beats. He grinned in the knowledge that every day it grew weaker and slower.
Smiling beneath the hood of his cloak, he let her arm drop onto the bed.
‘Not long now my Queen. The box is almost open,’ he gasped. ‘And with its opening your reign will close.’
Shuffling away from the bed, Throat went to a large set of windows. Pushing them open, he stepped out onto a balcony that jutted from the side of the Splinter. The wind grabbed at his dark robes and the spiderpedes worked faster. Looking out across the desert, he felt a twinge of excitement gnaw away at his rancid innards. It wasn’t just the knowledge that soon the whole of Endra and Earth would be his; it was the beautiful sight of the Demonic Guardians marching in their thousands across the desert below him. Even though he stood miles above Endra, he could hear their feet thundering in unison as they began their search for the boy.
‘Zach,’ Throat hissed across the desert, ‘Zach Black!’
‘What was that?’ Zach asked his companions, running towards the edge of the forest.
‘What was what?’ William said, starting to slow.
‘I thought I heard somebody say my name.’
‘Wasn’t me,’ Neanna assured him.
‘Not me,’ William added.
Shivering, Zach looked back into the darkness. ‘I’m sure somebody whispered my name.’
‘You just got the heebie-jeebies,’ William said. ‘C’mon. I can see the trees thinning out over there.’
William and Neanna set off again and Zach followed, but not before he had glanced back into the dark again.
They reached the edge of the Howling Forests to find themselves faced with a vast area covered with slabs of black granite stone. The slabs protruded from the ground like gravestones and disappeared into the distance for as far as the eye could see. They glistened in the rain that had started to fall and the moonlight glinted off their razor-sharp edges.
Without wasting any time, William started across the barren landscape.
‘What is this place?’ Zach asked, navigating his way through the bladed rocks.
‘It’s a Grey-yard. Better known in your world as a graveyard,’ Neanna whispered.
‘You’re kidding me right?’ Zack said back.
‘Shhh!’ William hissed. ‘You don’t want to be disturbing them!’
‘Disturbing who?’ Zach persisted.
‘Them!’ William said, coming to an abrupt halt. ‘I told you to be quiet!’
Zach followed William’s stare as several apparitions spiraled up from the ground like steam from an overflowing kettle.
‘Stay still!’ Neanna said, gripping Zach’s arm. ‘If you don’t move they might not see you.’
Zach watched as the wisps of smoke floated up into the air and entwined with each other. His heart began to race so fast in his chest he was sure the spirits, or whatever they were, would hear it slamming against his rib cage.
The smoke began to separate like liquid and take on the form of several individual shapes. They twisted and contorted like tormented souls until they had taken on the silhouette of several knights dressed in classic medieval costume. Each of them wore a chain-mail uniform and carried a long, see-through shield and sword.
‘Who dare disturb the rest of the Cathedral Knights?’ one of them growled as if woken from a deep and peaceful slumber.
Zach and his friends stayed still and silent.
‘Who’s there?’ boomed another of the knights and this one had a long translucent beard that floated in the wind.
Again they remained silent, the rain lashing against them, running down their faces in icy rivulets.
Swooping through the rain, the Knights legs seemed to melt away and turn into wispy tails that floated behind them in tendrils. They hovered above the heads of Zach, William and Neanna. Zach’s fingers twitched over his crossbows without him even knowing it. William glanced at Neanna who in turn glanced at Zach. The tension was unbearable. Spiraling above them like a twister, the Knights descended with such speed that Zach wondered if they didn’t possess the power to blink.
Pressing the tips of their swords against his throat, Zach was surrounded.
‘What is your name?’ the bearded knight roared, pushing the point of his sword against Zach’s Adam’s apple.
Even though the swords were see-through, Zach could feel the blade pressing into his throat.
‘Black,’ he answered. ‘Zach Black.’
Hearing his name, the Knights reared back and their faces screwed up as if consumed by pain.
‘He’s been sent by the sorcerer!’ one of them cried.
‘He’s an agent for the evil one!’ another screamed.
‘The evil one reigns supreme!’ the bearded knight screeched.
Looking Zach in the eyes, they pulled back their ghostlike swords as they moved to strike.
‘Put your swords down!’ William commanded and all seven of the Knights whirled around in the air to find the wolf-looking creature and Neanna armed with catapults.
‘We have brave ones here!’ the bearded Knight said. ‘Do you think you can hurt us with those,’ he mocked and the rest of the Knight’s began to chuckle.
Aiming the catapult above their heads, William pulled back as far as his arm would go and released an inferno berry. It whizzed up into the rain soaked night, disappearing from view. All of them waited. Nothing happened.
Smiling at William, the bearded Knight said, ‘See, I told you…’
Then there was a hideous cracking sound as if the very fabric of the night were being ripped open. Everyone flinched, their faces a mask of surprise. The night sky lit up with a hint of vile green. This was followed by an almighty explosion. All of them spun around, just in time to see a shockwave of bright green energy whoosh through the air, slicing apart everything in its path.
‘Whoa!’ William howled, taking cover behind the huge slices of rock. Even the ghost’s who had been so confident in the knowledge that they couldn’t be harmed disappeared back
beneath the ground.
The Demonic Guardians had marched through the night in their thousands. Somewhere in the desert they had split, sending armies to the four corners of Endra. Although heading in different directions all of them had one aim, one mission; to kill the boy Zach Black. They couldn’t be bargained with. You couldn’t reason with them and pleading just dragged out the inevitable. The Demonic Guardians were heartless and soulless. They were ruthless killers, and each and every one of them wanted to be the one that took the head of Zach Black to their master.
As one of the regiments marched east around the perimeter of the Howling Forests, the sky ahead of them exploded in a haze of green light. Although they were some four miles away the earth beneath them vibrated. They came to a halt, their swordsticks thundering into the hard packed ground of the desert. The lead Guardian screwed his red bleeding eyes together and looked at the light that illuminated the sky like a flare. With the back of one iron clad hand, he wiped away the red tears that leaked from his eye sockets.
‘We have him,’ he whispered, his fleshy lips rolling back like a snarling dog.
The lead Guardian held its swordstick above its elongated skull and roared, ‘CHARGE!’
On his command the regiment raced towards the light. Their boots sounding like thunder-claps rolling across the desert floor.
The last of the debris sent flying through the air by the exploding inferno berry rocketed over their heads as they hid behind a giant slab of granite stone. The green light faded and the aftershock rippled away.
‘Your dad wasn’t kidding when he warned us about those berries,’ Neanna whispered wide-eyed.
‘He’s full of surprises,’ William said, peering over the edge of the rock. ‘Those berries seemed to have done the trick.’
Joining him, Zach looked into the distance as the rain sliced through the darkness all around them.