by Alan Baxter
Zamna looked down on Isiah, his expression confused. ‘Why did you fight us, Isiah? Why protect Satan?’
Isiah laughed softly. ‘Surely you know better than that,’ he said. ‘I was protecting other interests.’
Zamna shrugged. ‘Whatever. The affairs of humans, mortal or otherwise, don’t concern us. But know this; if you lead Satan here again, we will destroy him and you.’
Isiah chose not to get into the argument of whether or not that was possible. With a nod of acquiescence he turned away, fatigue and pain flooding his body.
With the battle over the winds began to die away, the trees settling, the noise slowly abating. He felt the pulse of RealmShift as Zamna and Quetzalcoatl left. He walked slowly in the direction that Samuel had gone and soon came across the body of Carlos, blood soaked and broken, lying in the undergrowth like a parody of Christ. The expression on the dead mercenary’s face was a frieze of sheer terror and despair. Isiah shook his head. Samuel had grown powerful extremely quickly. The state of Carlos’ corpse was testament to that. He was glad that soon Samuel would be removed from the world.
As Samuel stumbled on, elated by the rush from his fight, he laughed out loud. Heading for the pyramid some hundred yards away, he realised that the wind and noise were disappearing. He could hear confused shouts and conversations coming from the site, beyond the trees to his right. He slowed his pace, confused. He was nowhere near the skull yet, but everything seemed to be over. He tried to use his new mind powers to feel in front of him, searching for something... but what?
A deep, rumbling chuckle came through the trees in front of him. Samuel began to tremble violently as he realised that the Devil must have got past Isiah. Looking frantically left and right, searching for an escape route, fear held him glued to the spot. The trees in front of him parted and Satan stepped through, grinning broadly, his black hooves steaming on the damp leaf litter. He was dragging something behind him. Isiah was nowhere to be seen.
‘So,’ he said in his deep, terrifying voice. ‘Finally the chase is up.’
Samuel stood motionless, struck dumb, paralysed by fear. The Devil lifted up the thing he dragged behind him. He held the leg of a man, more like a child’s in his mammoth black hand. As he raised the leg high, the man swung from his grasp like a rag doll, blood soaked and whimpering with horror and pain. It was the mercenary that Samuel had just killed. ‘I must thank you for this,’ the Devil laughed, shaking Carlos like a toy. Carlos just hung there, upside down, sobbing and moaning, completely out of his mind. ‘You and he can suffer together for eternity in my domain.’
Samuel shook his head, wishing Isiah would come.
Satan laughed again. ‘That Interferer will not come now,’ he said. ‘He is done with you. He only wanted to get you here to kill this one.’ Satan shook Carlos again. ‘You killed him and presented him to me, for before he believed in nothing and Isiah’s precious Balance doesn’t like that sort of mortal. You’ve served your purpose, it would seem.’
‘No,’ Samuel cried. ‘I’m worth more than that! I have a destiny!’ With all his conscious will Samuel gathered as much energy as he could muster and threw it at the devil, a crackling, uncontrolled wave of power. ‘Fuck you, Satan!’
The Devil swiftly raised his hand, blocking the wave of energy. He staggered back under the force of it, a roar escaping him as his hand and arm smoked and charred. His face registered his surprise. ‘You grow strong, Harrigan. The Interferer seems to have given you some tricks.’ Then the Devil leaned forward, his voice bellowing inches from Samuel. ‘But how dare you try to throw it at me! Who do you think you are, you worthless piece of shit?’ He slammed his free hand down on top of Samuel’s head, driving him to the ground with strength and burning energy.
Samuel was spent, that last psychic attack draining every last ounce of strength from him. He dropped to his knees, sobbing and mumbling, ‘No, no, no, not now. I can’t go back to you, I just need the skull, I just...’
Satan roared with laughter. ‘The skull has no power for you, fool! It never did, and Isiah knew that as well as I. You are an evil little man, falling for the same bullshit twice, worth nothing to anybody any more. You are all used up, it’s time for you to be my plaything.’
As the Devil reached one black, taloned hand towards him, Samuel’s mind snapped. He tipped his head back and let loose a wailing scream of despair, echoing through the trees above the rumbling laughter of the devil.
Sitting on a moss covered log, some metres from the body of the dead mercenary, Isiah sat slowly repairing his wounds, getting his breath back. He looked up as a piercing scream reverberated through the jungle. ‘So it ends,’ he whispered.
Gathered together again in the clearing in the middle of the archaeological site, Katherine Bailey, Thomas Drake, Pedro Sanchez and Father Paleros looked around as the winds died down and the noise drifted away.
‘Do you think it’s over?’ Katherine whispered. She had Drake’s handkerchief pressed against her throat, the shallow cut stinging.
Drake nodded. ‘I think it might be, just about.’
‘What about the soldier, the ... the death?’ she asked.
Thomas squeezed her shoulder. ‘Gone now. Don’t worry.’
Katherine looked at him, her eyes confused. ‘You are one strange old man,’ she said. She looked at his waistcoat and shirt, the hole the knife had left, but there was definitely no blood. ‘He stabbed you to the hilt, Thomas, I saw it!’
Drake smiled. ‘No, my dear, it must have just seemed that way. Really, he only got my clothes. I was lucky.’
Katherine shook her head. ‘I don’t believe you, but whatever, you’re okay. That’s what matters. The air still feels charged though, like static.’
‘The effects of the storm, perhaps,’ Pedro said quietly.
Katherine spun to look at him. ‘You think that was just a storm?’ she asked incredulously.
Pedro smiled slightly, shrugged. ‘Maybe just some bizarre electrical storm. Maybe we’ll never know.’
Before Katherine could reply there was a shrill, terrified scream from the jungle in front of them. It wailed on for a few seconds before cutting short, sudden silence. They all felt the static charge in the air slip away.
‘Now it’s over,’ Drake said. ‘You know, I think I could use a drink.’ He looked at Father Paleros. ‘Are you all right, old boy?’
Paleros nodded. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said, his voice tired, broken. ‘I thought it would help if I took myself away from you all. I froze when I saw him. I know him, I...’
Katherine put her arm around the pale priest. ‘Come on and have a drink with us,’ she said. ‘Calm down and you can tell us.’ She grinned at the others. ‘Let’s get drunk and worry about clearing this place up tomorrow. It might seem less like a nightmare in the daytime. A moment ago I was convinced I was about to die. All I can think of now is getting drunk.’
Thomas laughed as they made their way towards the dining tent. ‘You would say to leave the clearing up until tomorrow, my dear. You’re leaving in the morning!’
Katherine chuckled despite her discomfort. ‘Oh yeah! Still time for a drink though.’
Epilogue
Velvet turned slowly through jade to a bright, vibrant green as the sun crept above the treeline. The raucous sounds of the jungle continued to grow and life and activity became ever more apparent as the day commenced. Isiah sat like a statue under the cover of several large leaves. As the warmth of the morning became the relentless jungle heat Isiah’s eyelids flickered fractionally then slowly opened. As his eyes opened he began to breathe.
ARE YOU FULLY RECOVERED?
Isiah smiled as he stretched his limbs, back, neck. ‘Been waiting for me?’
IT SEEMED PRUDENT TO LET YOU REST. YOU WERE OBVIOUSLY IN NEED OF IT.
‘It’s been a pretty hectic few days.’
IT HAS.
Isiah sat in silence for a few moments, letting his body come back on line, his internal functions rest
arting from the induced stupor in which he had spent the night. He felt revived, repaired from any physical injuries, though still very tired. After a while he stood, stretching again, breathing deeply of the heavy air. ‘So is it done?’ he asked.
IT WOULD APPEAR TO BE. LOOK TO THE SITE. KATHERINE BAILEY IS PREPARING TO LEAVE.
Isiah wandered out from the depths of cover, careful to remain hidden from the eyes of anyone at the site. Several workers were milling around, busily tidying up the mess left by last night’s strange events, their eyes haunted. Isiah could see Katherine Bailey standing in the doorway of her hut, looking blearily out into the bright day. The sun seemed to be too much for her and she retreated inside again.
‘She’s the one that all this effort was for?’
YES.
Isiah made a rueful face. Never especially communicative, the Balance. ‘Why was that mercenary going to kill her?’
THE MERCENARY WANTED TO KILL THE PRIEST, PALEROS. SHE WAS USING HIS HUT AND WOULD SIMPLY HAVE BEEN AN UNFORTUNATE VICTIM OF CIRCUMSTANCE.
‘That’s why Samuel had to kill the mercenary?’
SAMUEL WAS GOING TO KILL THE MERCENARY ANYWAY, HAD HE FOLLOWED HIS ORIGINAL PLANS. WHEN HE GOT SCARED OFF BY HIS INCORRECT DIVINATION AND DECIDED NOT TO COME IT PUT KATHERINE BAILEY IN DANGER.
‘So I had to make sure that Samuel came here to get the skull so that he would accidentally run across old Carlos after all.’
PRECISELY.
‘It all seems so insignificant, so much left to chance.’
IT IS THE ORDER OF THINGS, ISIAH.
‘I know, I know. Poor old Samuel was played like a puppet by everyone he encountered since all this began, huh?’
SAMUEL HARRIGAN SET HIS OWN FATE IN MOTION WHEN HE MADE THE DEAL WITH SATAN.
‘Yet he still had work to do. He was a potentially powerful individual.’
HE WAS. IF HE HAD NOT BEEN STOPPED HE WOULD SURELY HAVE BECOME QUITE A DIFFICULT BEING TO DEAL WITH.
‘It was dangerous to keep him in the game for so long, wasn’t it? His powers were developing at an exponential rate.’
OF COURSE. WITH YOUR HELP. BUT IT WAS THOSE SAME POWERS THAT GAVE HIM THE ABILITY TO CONVINCE CARLOS VILLALOPEZ OF THE EXISTENCE OF THE DEVIL.
‘And remove him from being a dangerous entity in years to come also?’
A BONUS WHEN YOU BECAME INVOLVED. PEOPLE THAT BELIEVE IN NOTHING AT ALL CAN BE EXTREMELY VOLATILE. YOU, OF ALL PEOPLE, SHOULD KNOW THAT, ISIAH.
‘So Samuel not only saved Katherine Bailey, but tidied up Carlos Villalopez as well. Neat little package really. And that’s why I couldn’t simply come here and kill Carlos myself, I suppose.’
THERE ARE ALWAYS REASONS.
‘So now Katherine Bailey will go on to save the Amazonian tribe and prevent the loss of a deity and a large shift in the region’s balance of power?’
SHE LEAVES HERE TODAY TO TRAVEL INTO THE AMAZON BASIN. THERE SHE WILL COME ACROSS THE TRIBE. THEY ARE SICK, DYING. THEY WILL SEE IN BAILEY SOMEONE THEY CAN TRUST. THEIR LEADER WILL LISTEN TO HER AND SHE WILL CONVINCE THEM TO TAKE AN INOCULATION AGAINST THEIR SICKNESS. THEY WILL SURVIVE AND THEIR DEITY WILL SURVIVE.
‘Funny how intervention from a person like Katherine Bailey, a person without any kind of faith, will save a god.’
IF YOU SAY SO.
Isiah smiled, the Balance would never bite. He watched as the door of Katherine’s hut opened again. She stepped outside, shielding her eyes with one hand. In the other she held a travel bag and a laptop in its case. As she strolled towards the main dining tent an old man in a tweed suit came to meet her. Isiah jumped in surprise as he watched the old man. Katherine certainly saw only a distinguished old gentleman approaching her but Isiah’s trained eyes could see far more. The man was a disguise, extremely well tailored, concealing a truly powerful entity. Isiah had thought they were all gone but obviously some persevered. The creature turned its noble head, golden scales, piercing eyes. It nodded to Isiah in his concealment amongst the rich green leaves. Isiah raised a hand, returning the greeting, marvelling at the huge body, enormous wings, snakelike tail, expertly contained in the guise of an old man. Bizarrely enough Isiah sensed a holy aura surrounding it too, Christian. Must be part of its disguise. The irony wasn’t lost on him.
‘You kept that quiet,’ Isiah said. ‘With him around was there really any need for us to protect Katherine Bailey? Was this more to sort out Carlos Villalopez than anything else?’ There was no answer from the Balance. Its schemes were rarely very clear, even after the event.
‘Good morning, my dear. How are you?’ Thomas asked, smiling.
Katherine laughed despite herself. ‘To be completely honest, my friend, I feel terrible. We drank too much wine last night! But you seem to be well enough.’
Thomas’ smile broadened. ‘It’s all those years of communion wine. It must have hardened my resilience.’
Katherine shook her head. ‘Yeah, right! You are an intriguing man, Thomas Drake.’
They walked on towards the dining tent. ‘So you’ll be off directly after breakfast then?’ Thomas asked.
‘Yes. It’s a shame to be leaving, especially with things getting so interesting. But I’ll be back in a few weeks. You will still be here, won’t you?’
Thomas patted her shoulder, nodding. ‘Absolutely. This place will hold my attention for some time to come, I’m sure. And I have no other agenda now.’
As they stepped into the shade of the dining tent Pedro Sanchez stood and waved them over. Father Paleros was with him. Thomas and Katherine collected coffee and porridge from the main bench.
‘We’ll be sorry to see you go,’ Pedro said as Katherine sat down opposite him.
Katherine nodded, sipping her coffee gratefully. It was harsh, but any coffee was good for a hangover. ‘I’ll be sorry to go. But it won’t be for long. Have you had any further thoughts or discoveries relating to last night?’
Pedro nodded, his face sad. ‘The old shaman died last night, about three or four in the morning I’m told. He was lying on the altar stone in the large room beneath the pyramid. It seems his heart gave out.’
Katherine raised an eyebrow. ‘The poor man! It must have been him that caused the light in the pyramid during that madness last night. I wonder what he did? He was strange and frightening, but it’s a shame his efforts killed him.’
Father Paleros nodded along with the others. ‘I think he poured every ounce of strength he had left into some ritual during the storm last night. He was very old. One of his men told me that he was over one hundred and twenty years old, if you believe that.’
Katherine smiled. ‘I guess I am prepared to believe it. There was certainly a lot more to him than met the eye. You still think that was a freak storm last night?’ There was a glint of mischief in her eye.
Paleros smiled half-heartedly, looking away. ‘I don’t know. I really don’t know.’ He had told them who Villalopez was as they drank the night before, yet he refused to speculate on any of the other events.
‘Those of the strongest faith often find themselves lost when events don’t fit that faith,’ Thomas said enigmatically.
Paleros looked at him, his eyes thoughtful. ‘We all have our faiths, Thomas, yet none of them claim to have all the answers.’
‘Indeed, Father. Indeed.’
Pedro cleared his throat, looking uncomfortable. After a moment he said, ‘We also found two bodies in the jungle this morning. One was young Eduardo, a local boy working for us. His neck was broken. The other body was the mercenary you described. He had been brutally murdered, but not without quite a struggle it would seem.’
Katherine froze, her tin mug halfway to her lips. ‘Brutally murdered? By who?’
Pedro shrugged. ‘I have no idea, but you needn’t be afraid now. Whatever he came for, he’s dead now. The relevant authorities have been informed. It’s their problem now.’
Katherine shook her head, still staring into her coffee cup. ‘It’s probably just as well. I don’t
think I want to know.’
Thomas squeezed her shoulder. ‘All’s well that ends well, Katherine. We just have to make sure that it all does end well. We’ll probably never know exactly what happened last night, but as we’ve all survived it and nothing else seems to be amiss this morning, I would suggest that we all get on with our lives. You have an assignment to get to and we’ll be busy here until you return, and beyond.’
Katherine looked up and smiled at Thomas. ‘I guess you’re right. Ever since I got on that plane and you started talking to me things have been unusual. Why should last night be anything special. I’d better eat this porridge and get going.’
Pedro nodded. ‘I have a driver standing by to take you to Flores whenever you’re ready.’
Katherine smiled. ‘Thank you, Pedro. Thank you all for being so kind. I can’t wait to get back here. I wonder what tales I’ll have to tell you then. Or what you may have to tell me!’
From the cover of dense jungle shrubs Isiah watched Katherine Bailey climb into a waiting jeep. She looked considerably better than she had when he had first seen her. Her ancient protector was there, as was the priest that had unwittingly begun a large part of this chain of events, and another man, distinguished looking, Latin descent. Katherine Bailey hugged and kissed each of them in turn, her hug lingering longest on the old gentleman. If only she knew. After a moment more she spoke to the young driver and the jeep lurched away, bouncing off down the rough road. With a wave back over her shoulder, she disappeared around a bend. The three men stood and watched where she had been for a few moments before wandering back towards the main tent. They didn’t seem to be saying anything.
‘So off goes our Katherine Bailey to save a god,’ Isiah said.
There was no reply from the Balance.
Isiah took a deep breath, looking around himself. ‘Well, I know you can hear me even if you choose not to speak. I’d say I deserved a rest, wouldn’t you?’ He didn’t expect an answer. He slipped his hands into the pockets of his jacket, leaning back against a moss covered tree trunk. With a small noise of surprise he pulled a foil wrapped chocolate, slightly melted, from his pocket. He popped the chocolate into his mouth, thinking of the Royal Hotel. It seemed more like weeks ago than days. ‘Well, I’m off to a nice, uninhabited tropical island somewhere, where I can lay on the beach and swim in the sea and forget about all this for a while.’ As Isiah’s body began to dissipate, slowly breaking down in order to travel to that relaxing paradise, he said, ‘I won’t bother to say any more as you invariably know where to find me.’