The 9th Fortress

by John Paul Jackson

  "Kat!"

  No answer — no body — no sign — only a jagged hole and the rope hanging taught from its centre.

  "Who's there?" I yelled up, feeling a tug on my rope. "What the fuck!"

  That tug became a pull, one great heave after another, raising me upward and into the smoking gap.

  ***

  "Kat? Where are you? Kat?"

  I could see nothing, but heard the dripping of melting ice. I expected Kat's weight to be on the end of my rope, but when I pulled on it, only the slack collected over my lap.

  "What's going on?"

  I felt the cold against my hands and shins, and sensed a chilly breath escape my mouth. The wait felt like forever, a wait that ended with a fantastic ray of sunshine blasting through me and out of the hole. I covered my face from this painful life force, a force that took time to settle. When it did, and when my eyes finally adjusted, I noticed a small blue orb floating before me. I had seen an orb like this one before. It was the soul stripped of its skin, still in time and no larger than a pea.

  "Have no fear, Daniel," said a strong, feminine voice emanating from the orb.

  "How do you know my name? What is this place? Where is my friend?"

  "He is not your friend," she replied, her straightforward manner like an old headmistress. "Your relationship with the samurai warrior is one of convenience — not friendship — so let's not pretend otherwise."

  The star remained flickering in its place with a swirling vortex in the centre, razor sharp icicles making up its edges. "What do you want?" I said, trying to compose myself. "What have you done with him?"

  "The samurai is safe," she answered. "His mind and body have been placed in suspended animation for the time being."

  "Suspended what?" I exclaimed. "Let me go!"

  "Settle down Daniel. You have come a long way, I simply wanted to make your acquaintance."

  "And this is how you go about it? Why?"

  "I see things," she answered, floating eerily close to my face. "I see who you were in the past. I see where you are going in the future."

  "And why," I stammered, "would you be interested?"

  "I am naked before you Daniel, a witch cast here by a wizard."

  "Scarfell!" I hissed, and her blue light blazed. I shielded my eyes as that light discharged a furious red heat.

  "As my fire burns at your flesh!" she wailed, like a banshee. "So his name scorches my soul!"

  "Sorry!" I cried, the sensation now excruciating. "I won't say it again!"

  Immediately, the intense heat was replaced by the returning cold, and the sad voice inside it.

  "You're the witch!" I said, shocked. "I saw your broken broom in Bludgeon's cave, hung on his wall. It's dear to him…"

  Her light shun a pleasing orange for the centaur. "My name is Eternal," she said. "There are not many left who remember me. The poor beast Bludgeon, only Suppuku for company. If he knew of my dire situation he would surely come for me."

  "I could… tell him?"

  "You will not," she replied, curtly. "You will continue on with your journey. Bludgeon believes me dead, for his protection, it shall remain that way. Risk to him is great indeed."

  "What happened to you? Why did Scar — I mean — the wizard cast you here? Why does a man like Bludgeon need protecting?"

  "Because he is endangered. A very long time ago Daniel, this Distinct Earth was for everyone to see out their purgatory in peace. Bludgeon and I protected those individuals from the many alien creatures and monsters who wished them harm. King and Queen some called us." I could hear a faint laugh inside the orb, then her longing sigh before continuing. "One day, one grave day, there came a wizard — and everything changed."

  Still she would not utter his name, but her light flashed briefly black at the thought. "It is said Daniel, that the wizard wandered all the circles of Hellfire as Kat seeks an audience with God, the wizard sought the attention of his fallen son — Mephistopheles. They found each other in the bowels of that under-realm, and there the demon taught the wizard his blackest magic."

  "In return for?" I asked, intrigued.

  "That the wizard would expand the demon's kingdom throughout our Distinct Earth, wreak his havoc and bring about the darkness. In Hell, the wizard was a mere apostle — in the Distinct Earth, he is a God."

  "The wizard escaped Hell?" I muttered, assuming Kat was the only man to do so.

  "The samurai escaped the fire with endurance and timing," she returned; "the wizard did so with magic tricks, and he can return at will — to and fro whenever it pleases him. He is smart Daniel, a cunning trickster like his master. What the wizard cannot kill, he deals or disposes with some other way — like he did me…"

  "How?"

  "I am one of the few immortals," she answered.

  Eternal was not mentioned in any book I had read in Bludgeon's mountain, perhaps it was too difficult a subject for the centaur to put on paper.

  "The wizard," she added, "could only curse me here and spread untimely rumours of my end. Unfortunately these rumours exaggerated his legend, causing more to fear him."

  "That's why Bludgeon hides," I said. "Why the wizard wants him dead. Bludgeon's the fly in the ointment, the last thorn to absolute power."

  Eternal paused. Her light did not flicker, but remained serene and still, as if lost in profound thought.

  "Are you alright?" I asked her.

  "I am fine," she said, liveliness resuming. "There are many thorns in the wizard's side Daniel, yours I predict, will dig deepest."

  More than surprised by that remark, I was nothing but a blotch on Scarfell's boot the last time we met. Why would the old wizard fear me?

  "He underestimates you," she said. "It is the only reason you are still alive. I brought you here to hear my warning, and to heed it. The wizard has eyes everywhere, and can find you anywhere. You cannot trust anyone on your quest… not a single soul."

  Gut feeling told me she was holding something back, and pressing her, Eternal gave up more than I wanted to hear. "I brought you here Daniel to inform you of your true goal. You must kill the wizard. You must destroy him."

  Gob-smacked, I tittered. "I… can't do that! Not even Kat, a master samurai would go against him. What chance would I have?"

  "The samurai is a dinosaur!” she said. “That thug is not remotely interested in your quest — or you. His soul is in the sword… not the heart. He may indeed lead you to the 9thFortress Daniel, but only until a better option is put under his nose. Trust him at your peril."

  "Sir Isaac Newton has faith in him," I argued. "Kat will be there when I need him. I know it!"

  We both fell silent a few moments, and I could swear I felt her disapproving head shaking in the aqua light. "For your own sake," she said eventually; "I hope you're right; for it is only you who can bring an end to wizard rule and return peace to this realm. You have the training, the tool, and the spirit to do so."

  "I'm not going to kill anyone!" I snapped. "Newton asked me to do one thing: rescue prisoner 2020 of the 9thFortress. Do that and I get what was promised! I'm sorry you're trapped here, I really am, but I have a baby girl to stay alive for, and what you are asking is too much. Way too fucking much!"

  "And what of the women who remain in that village?" she returned coldly. "The hopeless you turned your back on so speedily? An alphabet growing his army and not the only ones under his thumb I assure you… open your eyes, Daniel! No one trains with Bludgeon for a rescue mission! There are larger things at work here, something you are not seeing. You went to Bludgeon to learn how to kill a wizard, and now you must do it!"

  Bludgeon expressed similar feelings, and as I considered my time with him, the pieces fell into place. Sir Isaac Newton did mean me to do more than the 9thFortress. I did have the training, the spirit and the tool: a dull dagger pressing against my thigh.

  "You see things?" I asked her, trying to lower my heart rate. "What do you see… for me?"

  Her light stalled again, ling
ering liquid blue.

  "Well?" I repeated, agitated. "What do you see?"

  "I foresee… loss, Daniel. I am sorry. One of your friends will not reach the Waiting Plain alive. One will perish — the second death in hellfire."

  "I've had enough loss!" I spat, nostrils flaring. "And I don't have any friends, remember?"

  "Friends will come when the battle is fought," she replied, "and there will be loss."

  I slouched, exhausted by her sobering words. What was the point in pretending I had a choice when other people had already decided my path? "I will do…" I muttered; "what I have to do."

  Turning from Eternal's light, I made my way for the exit with a mind only on ending this encounter.

  "Beware!" she exclaimed, behind me. "Beware Daniel!"

  “Leave me alone!”

  I carried on for the crack until the woman screamed painfully loud, causing ice and snow to rain down on top of me. I stopped before the jagged exit, feeling the witch’s fleshy hand rub down my back. Startled, I flashed around to see no hand near me, but the unmoved star where I last left it.

  "What is it?" I asked her. "What do you want?"

  "Beware!” she said. “The wizard has come across Mephistopheles, on the journey you will too! Be ready for him Daniel, be prepared — do not believe his lies!"

  "Fox!!"

  That explosive sound almost burst my eardrums, and I opened my eyes to find I was standing on a frozen mountain ledge.

  "Wake up!" stormed Kat, pulling at our rope. "Do you intend to kill us both?"

  "A dream?" I said, confused. There was no crack in the wall before Kat, no alien arms around his neck, and no trace of the Eternal witch.

  Barely upright and floundering in my thoughts, Kat gave a final yank on the rope.

  "You! Concentrate!"

  ***

  The wind was barely noticeable and the sky was clear on this, the sixth and final day. Kat and I lay side by side on our bellies, eyes fixed ahead. In patient silence, we held this position for over an hour, observing a hollowed out shelter of grey stone some twenty feet away — a picturesque inlet free from snow. There I squinted for Atlas, the Weather-Maker, but there was only the bare insides and untouched snow before it.

  My body felt like a block of meat, and as I drifted in and out of sleep, Kat's elbow would nudge my head sideways whenever he caught me dozing. I was later aggravated when, without cause, he again clattered my temple with that bone of his.

  "I wasn't sleeping! What's wrong with you?"

  Kat's lips stretched into a smirk. "There," he said, glinting ahead.

  "I don't see a thing. What you looking at?"

  "Shush!" he hissed. Then, with diligence, he took my hand and guided it. My eye followed his finger, and I smiled when I saw the thing for myself. Indents were being formed over that perfect snow, tiny little dimple dots. The more I stared at these footprints, the more the Weather-Maker became clear.

  Camouflaged, its skin reflected the scenery and it moved like a smudge of snow. As soon as Atlas settled into the inlet however, the several seconds it took for her coat to adjust to the rocky backdrop, was just enough to reveal its appearance. It was a horse with two substantial wings tucked in at its sides, and a compact satchel around her neck.

  "Amazing." I said, watching its body camouflaging into the grey stone. "A flying horse."

  "A Weather-Maker," said Kat, sharing awe as the mammal lowered its head to sleep.

  "Take this," he said, suddenly pressing the flute to my face.

  "I can't play that thing," I whispered, manoeuvring it away. "Besides, Bludgeon gave it to you. He wanted you to play it."

  "You do not play this instrument," he informed; "you blow — the flute does the rest."

  Still hesitant, I passed Kat the "why not you?" expression. The samurai replied immediately, and most sincerely. "I play only instruments of death."

  Snow blew like a sneeze from my mouth as I giggled. I couldn't help it. The comment was so ridiculous, so silly, and yet so like Kat. Relinquishing, I snatched the flute from his hand and held it like a cheap bread-stick. I'd never played an instrument before, not even the tambourine, but if it was only a matter of blowing down the end then there shouldn't be a problem. I put it to my lips but stalled as the grin returned to my face.

  "What?" asked Kat, vexed.

  I shook my head, "Instruments of death? Who says that?"

  I did not think Kat's frown could melt any lower. I was wrong. "Blow!" he ordered. "Do not waste time."

  Rolling my eyes, I wet my lips and placed the flute to my mouth. My expression lightened as sound escaped the end with my first exhale — a pleasant whistle that soon became something remarkable. The flute came alive, playing an idyllic poem, a soulful song that swooned out from this simple piece of wood. The music appeared to hit Atlas like a hunter's spear, waking her with a starting grunt. This tune didn't just touch the animal's heart, but Kat's too. Throughout his long life his ears had never heard the like, and laying on his side, he permitted the sound of peace to flow into his warrior system; he even removed his focus from Atlas to watch me play. Somehow, it was important for his spirit to hear this choir over the mountaintops, the cosmic chemistry of God curving the very air before us.

  Aching from a position held too long, I crouched up on wobbly knees then blew harder down the flute. Gesticulating, I attempted to catch Kat's attention, but the man appeared to be lost in hypnosis. I stumbled forward, and when the instrument left my lips, that mystical sound was stubbed out like the screech of an old record player.

  "Play!" Kat demanded, angrily. "Play!"

  "Can't." I mumbled. "Don't you see?"

  Frowning again, Kat regained himself, only to realize he had lost the Weather-Maker's position. "Kat," I whispered, stiff as a board. "It's… in… front… of… my…"

  There came a deep snort, followed by a long tongue smearing up my face. Kat recoiled and I shut my eyes tight, allowing the horse to slurp over me as long as it wanted. "What… do… I… do?" I squirmed.

  "Seize her!" Kat bellowed, startling me and the shy horse. The Weather-Maker, bashing the powder from her hoofs, ducked her snout between my legs then threw me onto her back. Kat lunged for the horse but not fast enough. The animal kicked off from the surface with her passenger on top, out of reach and into the sky.

  "Fox!" cried Kat, as the horse stretched out her wings. Atlas soared, and my voice broke as I screamed and flapped my arms for grip. Then, without any warning, the horse returned in a dive toward Kat, before swooping up then darting in and out of clouds. The flute felt frozen in the skin of my palm, but still I managed to wrap my arms and legs around the horse’s ribs.

  "Kaaaaaaaaat!"

  The samurai fell to his back and discovered something else inside him: long dormant laugher, and once his chuckle was out, there was no holding back — a giggle turned to a howl, and a howl to an uncontrollable fit of hysterics.

  "Do something Kaaaaaaat!"

  My cries for help only tickled his funny bone further. His hand pointed and mocked me, and his scarred face turned a ripe red. Swirling land below bought the vomit to my throat. Atlas seemed to have the wind locked in her immense wings, and her skin changed pigment from sky blue to cloudy grey, to sky blue again at the flick of a background switch.

  It was not until Atlas came to a steady halt in-flight when I could at last get my bearings. I fixed my position on her back and grabbed two steady clumps of her hair.

  "Whoa girl, steady! Steady now!" Not scared of heights, I was simply amazed to see how high I was — the last six days and nights were spread underneath me. "I think I've got control!" I yelled to a samurai I could no longer see. "I think I — WHOA!"

  Atlas kicked herself into top-gear and took me for another white-knuckled whirlwind over the Macros. Faster than before, she was a galloping soar up, followed by a butterfly-inducing drop down. She made a hair-raising loop and I held on tighter as she returned horizontal. My heels dug in however, stomach chu
rning, but I would not budge. I got the impression that the horse didn't want me tossed from her back, but that maybe she was testing me. Was I worthy of such a gift?

  Atlas' ear twitched and I gave it a good scratch. The horse grunted satisfied and the flight took on a sudden change. I was no longer being flown — but flying. Atlas put me behind her wheel, and this Weather-Maker was all mine. I aimed her head up and she hurriedly galloped like a star toward the sun. I aimed down again and she obeyed. I let out jubilant cries, childlike wows and watch me Kat, watch me!

  Unfortunately — things in the Distinct Earth are never this good for long, and that happy time came to a shattering end. A surge of heat hit me full in the chest, like a boiling heart attack. Spasms followed — body shutting down — darkness.

  I woke… face down on one of the Macro peaks, a floppy arm hanging off a sheer edge to nowhere. On my other side was a descending slope littered with green Christmas trees. Kat was at the bottom of this frosty slope, barely a silhouette, but I could still make out his two swords catching the sunlight.

  Dazed, I squeezed the bridge of my nose to clear the headache. I then groaned in pain as a hand pulled on my hair, forcing me to my knees. The Wizard looked no different from that day in the woods — old face with the flesh stretched over skeleton, his two grey beards growing out from the chin. "Where is my head?" he asked, his craggy voice somehow amplified over the peaks. "Where is my head samurai? I have waited… and waited… and waited!"

  I shrieked as Scarfell tore out a clump of my hair. Staunchly on his spot and hip deep in snow, Kat showed the wizard, not the head of a centaur as instructed, as agreed — but the blades of his swords.

  "Is that all you have for me?" said Scarfell. "Is that all?"

  Kat started after us while I dabbed at the bald patch in my hair. "He's no head for you wizard," I said, bravely or stupidly. "He's not an assassin!"

  Scarfell lowered his wrinkled face to meet mine. "Are you still here?" he said, suddenly placing his open palm full over my face. No magical ray of light came from his hand, only that same burning sensation I experienced on the back of Atlas, this time located entirely inside my skull. My body convulsed against it, my sight blackened but I did not pass out — I was fully aware of my surroundings, and of this slow and excruciating death.