Bound to the Abyss

by James R. Vernon

  Wrapping his own wound with a bandage, he looked at Bran. “Are you cut up badly or bruise—” Ean wasn’t sure what it was about Bran’s expression that made him stop. The normally jovial guy was staring at him with an expression that Ean had never seen before. Was that anger?

  “Nothing too serious, thankfully.” He was grinning now. Had Ean imagined it? No, Ean had definitely noticed something strange in his expression. Bran continued. “It seems like you received the worst of it. That was pretty brave, coming to Jaslen’s rescue with just a lit stick.” There it was again! Only a brief flash of an emotion that Ean couldn’t make out, but it was there.

  “Uh… well…I had to do something, I guess.” Ean dropped his eyes. Why did he feel so uncomfortable all of the sudden?

  Bran barked a laugh. “Do something? You certainly did something.” He gestured over towards the Hound. It had eaten most of the meat off one arm and moved on to the other one. “If you had done that in the beginning, none of us would have even gotten a scratch.”

  “I only summoned the Hound once before,” Ean said, still not looking at Bran. “And the last time didn’t exactly go that well.” He rubbed at his left arm.

  “If you say so.”

  A hand on his shoulder made him jump. What was wrong with him today? Jaslen was looking at him again. “If we’re all bandaged up now, could you please send the Hound away? I can’t stand the sounds it’s making while it eats.”

  “Yes, yes, of course.” Rising, he walked over to where the summoning rune was still glowing with a faint light on the ground. Kneeling next to it, he placed his right hand on the edge. The rune had activated before without actually saying the words, maybe it would close the same way. He pictured the rune activating in his mind and instantly it flared to life. A portal back to the Abyss opened up in front of him, its purple mist swirling around below him.

  The Hound’s body jerked away from its meal as if pulled by an invisible leash. Its body began to slide backwards as it struggled against the invisible force. Its large claws dug into the stone, raking long scars into the ground. Realizing that wasn’t working, it whipped its head around, a low growl escaping its throat as it looked directly at Ean.

  Ean blinked a few times as a spike of fear ran up his spine. The Hound would be next to him soon. His left arm itched as the memory of what the Hound could do when it was annoyed leapt into his mind. And that had been when it was a young pup! While his attention wavered, the opening started to close.

  With the pressure released, the Hound started to move towards Ean with a more determined pace. Its head was low, but its eyes burned. Ean tried to focus and the portal grew. The Hound jerked again as the magic took hold, and it slowed as it tried to dig its claws into the ground.

  “Maybe you should let it finish its meal,” Zin yelled from somewhere off to Ean’s side.

  The Hound was moving again, slowly, but it seemed to be the one in control. Maybe Zin was right. He could release it and let it go back to eating the troll. Or the Hound could hold a grudge for the interruption and turn Ean into its next meal. Either way it was clear that the Hound was not going back without a fight. Ean decided to let it go and hope for the best.

  Taking his hand off the rune, he raised both into the air and pointed back towards the troll. Stumbling as it was released, the Hound recovered and bounded the last few steps to Ean. Expecting to be a meal, Ean closed his eyes and cringed. When a few moments went by and he didn’t feel the creature’s teeth sink into his neck, he opened his eyes. The Hound was standing in front of him, its dark purple eyes staring into his own. It continued staring at him for a moment, then not so gently nuzzled the side of his face.

  Ean blinked in surprise. The Hound sniffed at him one more time, snorted, then sauntered back to the troll. Surprised he was still alive, Ean sat in shock as the Hound sat and resumed its meal. A burning sensation on his neck knocked him out of his stupor, as he realized a drop of saliva had gotten on his neck. He brushed it away with a gloved hand.

  "Never a good idea to come between a Hound and its meal," Zin chuckled. The little imp walked over to Ean while he continued to wipe at his neck. "And I would have thought that you had learnt your lesson last time about a Hound's saliva."

  Ean’s neck felt hot and irritated, but the pain was gone. He was about to let out a string of curses at Zin but Jaslen spoke first. “You’re really just going to let it roam about free? What if it decides that we look as appetizing as the troll?”

  “I’m sure he won’t turn on us,” Ean said, trying to reassure her. “He isn’t completely under my control, but I believe that he is somewhat loyal to me. We’ll just wait, and when it’s done eating, I’ll try to send him back again. At the very least he’ll keep any other trolls away.”

  His little speech didn’t seem to alleviate Jaslen’s fears. Her hands were rolled up together in nervous balls, and she flinched every time the Hound’s teeth crunched on the troll’s bones.

  “If Ean says it will be alright, I’m sure he believes it. After all, it looked like it was about to make a meal of him too and didn’t.” Bran’s expression changed to one of concern. “I have never heard of a troll attacking anyone so viciously before.”

  Forgetting the Hound for a moment, Jaslen nodded slowly against Bran’s chest. “I’ve scared a few off our farmland myself, and it’s never taken anything more than shouting at it.” Her body shudders slightly. “But I’ve never seen a troll that looked that way before either. He seemed…sick. And his body was so deformed.” She shuddered again, one hand reaching over to grasp at Bran’s shirt. “It was horrible.”

  Ean nodded along with them. He had never seen a troll before, but it looked like what he had expected. Big and ugly. How was this one any different?

  “Well, regardless, it’s dead now,” Ean said, trying to sound relaxed. “Who cares if it was sick or rabid or whatever?”

  He got up slowly and carried his medicine bag back to the rest of his belongings. He could hear Jaslen and Bran still whispering to each other behind him, but he ignored it. What he couldn’t ignore was the feeling of Zin walking up behind him. It was strange. Sometimes he could put the new feeling of the imp out of his mind and other times, it pulsed like a drumbeat that was impossible to ignore.

  “So, how much are we telling them? I just want to know now so that I don’t say anything that will get me kicked later.” Zin said the last part with a smirk. Ean couldn’t remember a time he had actually been able to catch the imp, and Zin knew it.

  “We won’t be telling them anything.” Ean let the medicine bag drop to the ground. He regarded his other companions with disapproval. “Those two already think I have a special connection to Ze’an. The last thing I need is you adding to their delusions, so keep your trap shut and let me do any explaining. Got it?”

  “Oh?” Zin said. “I thought you would say anything to impress the girl.” That did earn Zin a kick, but the imp easily dodged to the side then continued on as if nothing had happened. “Just think, if you had told her you were a prophet of Ze’an, she would probably do anything you wanted. ANYTHING.”

  Ean grabbed a rock and threw it as hard as he could at the now chuckling imp. It missed, of course, and the effort earned Ean a flash of pain from the wounds on his stomach. “You will NOT talk to them about me or the Abyss. I swear, if I even think you’ve told them anything, I’ll send you back. Then we’ll see if you’re still laughing after a few days down in the Abyss.”

  Zin threw his hands up, his cocky expression replaced with frustration. “Fine, fine. I didn’t know you were going to get this worked up about it. I won’t say a single word. I promise. No need to threaten me.”

  Ean stared at the imp until he was certain that Zin wasn’t lying, then nodded and got back to his feet. “Good, I’m glad that’s settled. Now, I have a question for you. Since I tattooed this rune on my hand, I’ve been--” he paused a moment, trying to figure out how to put into words what he had been feeling. “I’ve been abl
e to, I guess the best word would be ‘sense,’ when you are near. And that’s not all. I think I could sense that troll as well. And the Hound. At the moment, the Hound is like a burning beacon in my mind. I think I could find him if he were a day’s journey away. Are my tattoo and the feelings connected?”

  Zin’s head tilted to the side as he regarded Ean. A slight frown touched the corners of his mouth, and when he spoke his tone was guarded. “Yes, the two are connected.”

  Ean stared at him until he realized the imp wasn’t going to say more. “That’s it? No explanation? Not even a—”

  He was cut off by a scream. Spinning around, he found Bran on his feet, sword in hand, standing in front of Jaslen. He followed both of their gazes and found the Hound. It had already finished its meal, a pile of gnawed bones and discarded limbs marking where the troll had been. The Hound was now walking towards them, its head low and teeth bared.

  Ean moved to place himself in between the beast and his companions. Raising both hands, palms out in front of the beast, he started to move towards it. The Hound stopped, raising its head.

  "Time to go home now." Ean spoke slowly, doubting the Hound understood a single word. To help emphasize what he was saying, he gestured towards the still glowing summoning rune. The beast looked at the rune, then at him, and back at the rune. It seemed to think for a moment, and then to Ean’s surprise, made its way over to the rune.

  Feeling more confident, Ean moved so close to the Hound that he could smell the rotten stink of troll guts on its breath. Suppressing a gag, he picked up the rune. When he locked eyes with the Hound, it was as if he were sinking into its watery purple eyes. Images of a dim gray cavern floated in his mind. The floor was made of a polished sheet of black granite. There were stalagmites everywhere, reaching high into the air and disappearing into the darkness.

  There was movement as well. The slither of scales came from in front of him, the whisper of padded feet brushed behind him, the flap of wings on either side buffeted him with air. The crackle of their camp fire faded away as his body went numb. As the two worlds seemed to mix in his mind, the darker world became everything as his consciousness faded away.

  EAN TRIED TO YELL, call out, but nothing escaped his lips. He had no control over his arms, legs or body. Even his eyes wouldn’t travel to where he wanted them. His body moved of its own accord. At first he thought he was crawling around on his hands and knees, as his head swiveled about. There was movement in the darkness, movement away from him. He suddenly felt an excitement that was not his own. His eyes, no, the eyes he was seeing through, seemed to lock on something in the darkness.

  He took off, sprinting along the ground and into the darkness. The strange, dim glow that lit the small area around him seemed to follow along as he moved. Onward he plunged while dark shapes skittered away in the darkness. He ignored those shapes, or to be more accurate, whatever eyes he was seeing through ignored them. His attention remained fixed on something in the darkness, something that dodged around stalagmites and leapt over dark holes in the ground.

  Ean was starting to feel the excitement as if it was his own now. He caught sight of a clawed foot or paw as he ran, but ignored them. The flap of wings above him sounded as if flocks of birds were flying just out of sight. The cries and whimpers of the creatures dodging to get out of the way just seemed to drive him on even more. Most pronounced of all was the scrape of claws on stone.

  Was he seeing things through the eyes of his Hound? That brought up an even more worrisome question: Had something gone so wrong that he had become part of the Hound? The thought rocked Ean to the core, but the Hound bounded on. His own fear began to mix into that feeling of excitement that rolled around in his mind. There was so much he didn't know about the magic he used. Had he caused this? Was this going to be the rest of his life, trapped in the mind of a beast?

  The excitement he felt changed to exultation, and the Hound put on a burst of speed. Time seemed to slow. In front of him, a form started to take shape in the darkness. It was small, the head of the creature not even reaching as high as the Hound's head. A moment later, and the form took on an actual shape. It was humanoid, with thin arms and legs, its skin a muddy brown color.

  The Hound was only a few steps away now from the unlucky creature. Ean could feel a rumble in his stomach, no, the Hound’s stomach. It seemed that the longer he was a part of the Hound, the more their sensations merged…which caused Ean to panic more.

  Taking a few bounds, the Hound leapt into the air. Ean's terror was washed away with an overwhelming sense of triumph. The Hound's prey let out a scream and spun around, giving Ean a clear view of the potential meal. Its face had a look of horror, mouth wide open showing tiny pointed teeth, beady black eyes squeezed shut behind its long, pointed nose.

  Zin! Ean screamed in his mind as the Hound’s jaws snapped shut.

  “ZIN!”

  “What?” Ean heard the imp’s voice behind him. “I’m not doing anything!”

  Ean blinked. In front of him sat the Hound, its dark eyes still staring back at him. He looked down to find his hand hovering above the rune, its faint glow a contrast to the stronger light coming from the fire. He looked up and found the stars still in the sky, the three moons now visible this late at night floating along high above him. Behind him, he could feel Zin approaching.

  “Are you alright?” The imp’s voice was hesitant, almost worried.

  “Yes…uh, I’m fine. Completely fine.”

  “Alright, if you say so.”

  Ean took a better look at everyone. Zin stood in a tense pose as if he was expecting to be kicked. Bran and Jaslen were still huddled together, both looking at him with calculating eyes. Great, now they probably think I’m crazy. Returning his attention to the Hound, he tried not to think about the three pairs of eyes he could feel drilling into his back.

  “Alright, boy, time to go home.”

  The rune tripled in brightness, bathing the area in a dark blue glow. It disappeared, replaced by a gaping hole in the ground that seemed to drop off into nothingness. Ean stared into the hole, trying to look past the purplish-blue light but couldn’t make out anything past the haze that swirled around just inside.

  “Go ahead, boy,” Ean said to the Hound.

  He used his head to motion towards the portal. The Hound complied and placed its front paws into the hole. Instead of dropping straight down, it sank like a cart sinking into a bog. When the entire Hound sank from view, the portal closed and was replaced again by the rune. The rune flashed one last time, then faded away into nothing.

  Ean got back onto his feet. His mind continued to swim from the experience of seeing through a Hound’s eyes and feeling its hunger. Had he imagined it all or had it been real? Had he been looking through his Hound’s eyes or had it been the eyes of something else? A mountain of questions piled up in his mind. He really had to get Zin alone at some point so that they could talk about everything he had experienced since painting that rune onto his hand.

  The rustle of clothes brought his attention back to the here and now. He found Bran and Jaslen rising to their feet as well. Bran steadied Jaslen as she found her footing and went over to Zin.

  “You are much less intimidating than that other creature…Zin, is it? Can you speak?” Jaslen’s voice had taken on a friendly tone, but she kept some distance between herself and the imp. “My name is Jaslen.”

  “Yeah, I know who you are. I’ve been around Ean long enough to know all about yo…uh the people of your village.”

  “Oh really? Then how come we have never seen you around? Does Ean keep you locked away?”

  In answer, Zin vanished from sight. Jaslen fell back, a small squeak escaped her mouth. “Where did he go?”

  Zin reappeared, exactly where he had been before. Jaslen stared at him for a moment then began to clap her hands and laugh. Her joyful laughter made him smile.

  “That was wonderful! Can you do it whenever you want?”

  “Yes. It’s h
elpful in your world, but most things in the Abyss can hunt by smell, so it’s not as useful there.”

  Knowing that Zin tended to shift a lot whenever he felt uncomfortable, Ean knew the imp must be a complete wreck. All of Jaslen’s questions, and her unwavering attention, had Zin fading in and out like candle light in a breeze. If the cuts on Ean’s stomach didn’t burn so much, he’d be splitting a gut at the poor imp’s plight. For now, he kept a stiff back and snorted out a barely controlled snicker.

  "Well, you won't have to worry about hiding with us around now," Jaslen said, giving the imp a friendly smile, "at least not while we're traveling outside of villages and towns. I can't wait for a better opportunity to sit down and ask you all about your home."

  "Yes, that sounds like it would be oh so much fun." The sarcasm was clear in Zin's voice, but Jaslen's expression never changed. She either missed it, or chose to ignore it. Zin continued to shuffle his feet, his hands clasped together behind his back.

  Jaslen opened her mouth to say more but Bran interrupted. “The horse is dead,” he said glumly. “We’ll have to fashion some kind of splint to carry our things into Rensen. It will probably be slow going. It might even take us two or three more days to reach the village.”

  Jaslen’s expression dropped for a moment but then brightened as a thought seemed to strike her. “Is there anything you can do, Ean? With your magic? Maybe make our things lighter somehow? Or how about summoning something that could drag or carry our things at least through the mountain? Something that isn’t as scary as the beast you just sent back.”

  “Well, I guess there is one thing I could do.”

  Ean knelt down and began to draw a rune with his finger. He had to draw it a lot bigger than usual, but it was the attention to detail that mattered, not the size. The lines and symbols flared to life as he drew them along the ground, casting that now familiar blue light on the surrounding area again. As soon as he finished the complex design, the rune disappeared, replaced by another gaping dark hole in the ground.