Eighth Fire

by Curtis, Gene

  The stench of burnt fish became evident halfway down the ladder and the ever-present, oppressive feeling of foreboding began to permeate Mark’s mind. The horrid memories of past events in the labyrinth played like movies; everything from being so hungry, using every bit of his will to keep from doing what the impish voice had said he would do to realizing in the fifth room, while fighting just to stay alive, that the staff was the key to the doors in there. The labyrinth was definitely a place no one wanted to be.

  Mark asked, “Who found Ricky’s body?”

  Mr. Young said, “Slone Voif did. He and his friends had the same idea you did about exploring The Island.”

  “Were they brought in for questioning?”

  “Yes. They were released before you were brought in.”

  “Any idea who actually killed him?”

  “The preliminary examination of the body suggests suicide, but the circumstances suggest otherwise. Rolling one’s self up in a blanket and then rolling into the moat is a pretty bizarre way to commit suicide, don’t you think?”

  Mark said, “So, you’re saying we don’t know if it was murder or suicide.”

  They reached the bottom of the ladder. Mr. Diefenderfer laid the body down and said, “We will, I am sure, have a definitive answer to that very question on our return, in three days.” Three days was the consensus of everyone that had been rescued from that cursed place last year for how long it took a body to completely regenerate in there.

  When Mrs. Shadowitz joined Monsieur Fontaine in the healing ward, he pulled a signet ring out of the box containing Ricky’s belongings. The crest was a crossed scimitar and quill; the crest of the Neo-Phylum or New Order. He said, “They’re either getting careless or much bolder. Do you know if he was a full-fledged member or a recruit?”

  “I believe he’s too young to be full member. If he was a recruit that just found out what they’re capable of, what they stand for, and tried to back out, that could explain his death.”

  “Yes, but why would they try to frame Mark Young?”

  “There was a lot of animosity between those two, and you already know Mark isn’t entirely innocent in that regard.”

  “Do you think they’re trying to recruit Mark or his friends?”

  “They’d be stupid not to try, but from what I know of Mark’s group, I highly doubt they could succeed.”

  In the labyrinth, Mark opened a duffel bag and pulled out two more lanterns before taking up a position beside Ricky’s body. Both Mr. Diefenderfer and Mr. Young were kneeling on either side of the body, both with their hoods up and their heads bowed. Mark wasn’t wearing his cloak, so he just bowed his head and turned his thoughts to, Why?

  He knew full well it was possible for Ricky to come back to life, but didn’t think it likely at this point. If God were going to consent to letting it happen, it would most likely already have. Although, history has it that Abraham was able to change God’s mind—once.

  A full two hours had passed before Mark whispered to himself, “God, I wish I could honestly say take me instead of him and mean it, but I can’t. I can say I don’t wish him to be dead and plead my heart that you would return him.”

  A booming laugh filled the cavern of the first room in the labyrinth. Mark steadied himself from falling over sideways. He recognized that laugh; it was the same laugh that had filled his mind when he awoke in the labyrinth a couple of months ago. “BENRAH!” Only this time the laugh wasn’t in his head, it was in his ears.

  Instinctively he reached into Aaron’s Grasp for his sword, but it wasn’t there. He had been disarmed before being brought in for questioning and hadn’t thought to retrieve his sword in his haste to get Ricky into the labyrinth. It probably would have been useless against the apparition now towering over the group anyway.

  He couldn’t tell how big the creature was, but it was big, very big. He was too close to get a good feel for its size, but it was at least as big as a dragon. Its body was sort of an amber color and the wings stretched out of the range of the lantern’s light. A bundle of necks extended from the top of its body to a very odd shaped head. The head was like a group of heads meshed together with eyes and mouths all the way around. The laughing sound seemed to be coming from a tambourine shaped membrane in the center of its chest.

  He looked at Mr. Diefenderfer and Mr. Young. They both had scrambled to their feet and were reaching for their pockets.

  Benrah’s right wing swept down and swished Mr. Diefenderfer and Mr. Young backwards like they were nothing more than a piece of lint. Mark heard their bodies thud against the far wall, more than fifty yards away.

  Benrah boomed, “Not today...good sirs. I have...business...with your...young companion.”

  It was obvious to Mark that Benrah was mocking the way Mr. Diefenderfer had spoken for the last fifteen years as a result of his injuries. Injuries that Benrah’s own thralls had inflicted on him. Mark got his fingers around a bug bomb.

  Benrah’s heads split apart and the necks fanned out like a peacock’s feathers. Each head came to bear on Mark. Benrah’s voice thundered, “If you activate that, I will be forced to leave, but not before I can kill your friends.”

  Mark raised his arm in order to smash the bug bomb onto the floor. “Go ahead. Nobody dies for good in here. They’ll be back within three days at the most.” Mark started his arm moving down to smash the bomb.

  “Untrue.”

  The small capsule ruptured on the stone floor causing the water to mix with the other three ingredients: the dehydrated fish heart and liver, as-well-as the oxidizing agent, sodium. The fumes were almost immediate, as was Benrah’s reaction.

  In a blur, almost too quick to see, Benrah’s feet shot straight toward where Mr. Diefenderfer and Mr. Young were. This was followed by two blended screams, the disappearance of Benrah, and then silence.

  Mark’s heart sank and he cried out, “Are you alright!”

  Silence.

  He scooped up a lantern and ran to where he knew they had to be. Their bodies lay torn and broken. Blood pooled under their forms and their entrails, torn from the gaping rips in their bellies, were strewn about the floor.

  He sank to his knees and pounded the side of his fist on the cold stone floor. Tears flooded his eyes and his nose filled forcing him to breathe through his mouth. The last word Benrah had spoken echoed in his mind, untrue. What if Benrah was telling the truth? No! It can’t be! Three days...just three days, and they’ll be okay.

  Mark mustered his resolve and dragged the bodies back to where Ricky’s body lay.

  Three days passed with each hour seeing another bug bomb hit the floor, but instead of healing, the bodies were decaying. The overpowering rancor forced Mark to move his vigil back several feet. There was no doubt in his mind now that Benrah had spoken the truth. Somehow the healing powers of this place had vanished.

  Mark was halfway back up the ladder when Benrah’s voice boomed again. “You’re one pigheaded poke.”

  Mark almost lost his grip when he scrambled for one of the few remaining bug bombs.

  “Drop it if you like, but sooner or later you’re going to hear what I have to say.”

  Mark dropped the capsule and continued his climb. “I don’t care what you have to say.” A couple of seconds later Benrah was gone and Mark reached the door. He fell asleep as soon as he passed through.

  Seven days later he awoke in a hospital bed. He got up, pulled back the curtain and saw exactly what he expected. He was in the healing ward. The memories of the most recent events in the labyrinth played fresh in his mind and his eyes blurred from the tears.

  A lady wearing a white hooded cloak was just walking up. It was Mary, the same healer that had attended him last year on his return from the labyrinth.

  “I expected you would wake up this morning. I’ve already sent for a proper North Carolina breakfast, and Mrs. Shadowitz should be here any moment now.”

  No sooner had she spoken than the door to the healing ward opened
and Mrs. Shadowitz entered. She motioned for one for the guards to pull a table up to the foot of Mark’s bed.

  The guard did as she indicated and she looked at Mark. Her face was a mask of sorrow. “We need to talk before your parents get here.”

  Mark looked down, swallowed hard, sniffed and looked back up. A moment later he nodded, walked to the table and sat down.

  Mrs. Shadowitz sat down and leaned across the table reaching her hands out to him. He slid his hands into hers and felt the reassurance of her touch.

  “No one blames you for what happened. You did what you felt you had to do. No one can fault you for that.” Mark’s thoughts were the only known form of communication that could escape the labyrinth without the use of the staff. Several counselors had maintained a vigil outside the entrance to the labyrinth while Mark and the others had been in there which put them close enough to be able to read Mark’s thoughts. As a result, everyone knew exactly what had happened in there.

  Mark swallowed again and didn’t say anything. He knew she was building up to ask him something and he had a pretty good idea what it was. They couldn’t let the bodies just rot in the labyrinth. They would need a decent burial.

  Mrs. Shadowitz was about to say something else when he decided to speak. “I’ll do it.”

  “You’ll do what?”

  “I’ll go back in and recover the bodies.”

  Her hands tightened on his and shook with each syllable when she said, “You’ll do no such thing.”

  He hated correcting her but could see no way around it. “Ma’am, there’s no other option. I’m the only one the staff works for.”

  “You’ll not go back in. We just need you to hold the door open for the team that will go in.” Her hands relaxed on his. “But that’s not what I wanted to talk about.”

  The door opened. Tim and Jeremy walked through, each carrying a tray of food. They sat the trays on the table and Tim said, “I do not think you have met Jeremy. He is Shana’s top apprentice like Shana was my top apprentice.”

  Mark slid his hands from Mrs. Shadowitz’s and extended his right hand to Jeremy. Jeremy’s grasp was firm and it was quite evident there was a lot of latent power in this man. Mark had no doubt his hand would be no more than peanut shells in this man’s fingers had there been cause.

  It was obvious Jeremy’s smile was forced. “I’ve heard good things about you. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you face to face. I do wish the circumstances could have been better though.”

  “Me too. Would you and Tim care to join us?”

  They both looked to Mrs. Shadowitz. She said, “Give us a few minutes if you please.”

  They walked off and she turned back to Mark. “Benrah is awfully anxious to tell you something. Do you have any clue as to what that might be?”

  Mark’s first instinct was to say he didn’t care what Benrah wanted to say, but he saw Mrs. Shadowitz was taking this very seriously. “Ma’am, I honestly don’t know.”

  “I think it’s likely you do know, but just don’t realize it yet. I want you to keep pondering what it may be. If Benrah wants to tell you something that means he’s desperate about whatever it is. The sooner we know what it is, the sooner we can take action.”

  The door to the healing ward opened again and Mark’s family came through the door. His mother, Shirley, ran up, threw her arms around him and lifted him to his feet. “Oh honey, I’m so glad you’re alright.” She kissed his forehead and rocked him back and forth.

  Steve said, “You are all right, aren’t you?”

  Mark pried himself from his mother’s arms. “I’m okay, except two people I cared about are dead because of me.”

  Steve bowed his head and said, “Son, one of the hardest things for me to learn in the Marines was that sometimes good people die. It wasn’t your fault. Nobody could have known what would happen in there.”

  James, his older brother said, “You didn’t intend to— “

  Mark cut him off and heard himself angrily repeating Mr. Thorpe before he could stop. “Intentions have no substance. It’s action that has consequence. It was my action that led to their deaths.”

  Mrs. Shadowitz said, “Mark, they would have taken Ricky’s body in there whether you went in or not. Now, you can either stew in your own self pity or you can pull yourself together and help us do what needs to be done. Yes, their deaths hurt us all, but first things first: you need to eat.”

  Three bronze colored coffins sat on gurneys next to the entrance of the labyrinth. Mark walked up and touched the wall with his staff and the door opened. Tim walked up and tossed in several bug bombs.

  Mark said, “Tim, Jeremy, you’ve never been in there.”

  Tim said, “I was in there with you for a while through your thoughts while you were in there.”

  Jeremy said, “That’s true, but if I ever hope to understand what you’ve been through, I need to go in.”

  A hand poked out of the opening. Mark recognized Mr. Diefenderfer’s signet. Tim grabbed the arm and started to pull. The arm pulled away and went back in.

  Mark stuck his head through the opening. Mr. Diefenderfer was bald once again with the same thick scar crossing his head from front to back, and his eyes were once again black orbs. Another figure was on the ladder behind him; Ricky Barns, and another figure behind Ricky; Joseph Young. Only his hair, matted with dried blood, was stringy white, and hung to his feet as did his beard.

  Mr. Diefenderfer pointed at the coffins through the door. “We will not...I am sure...be needing those...I hope...anytime soon.” He looked back at Mark. “Ask Mrs. Shadowitz...to lean in...if you would.”

  All four leaned in through the door. Mr. Diefenderfer said, “Ricky Barns is...under arrest. Take him...into custody...and see to it...he is not told...anything about what...we know.” “You need...to call...an emergency session...of the...Council of Elders.” He pointed at Mark, Tim and Jeremy. “I need to...talk with...Mrs. Shadowitz...privately...before I step out.”

  It was just before three in the morning when Mark was awakened by a knock on the dorm door. He, his parents and brother had been assigned to the visitor’s dorm rooms pending being called into the council chamber. Mr. Diefenderfer said there was an abundance of information to deliberate and he had no idea how long this session would last. Mark and his family were to wait and would be called in at the appropriate time.

  Mark sat up and said in a rather loud voice, “I’m up. Are they ready?”

  Jeremy spoke from the other side of the door. “They have taken a brief recess and will be ready for you on their return in about twenty minutes.”

  Twenty minutes later, Jeremy led Mark and his family into the first floor level of the council chambers and to the single illuminated spot in the center of the large round room. Mark remembered how different he felt this time as opposed to last year on entering this chamber. Last year he hadn’t understood why he had been brought here and was intimidated beyond belief. This time, even with the austere setting, it wasn’t as bad.

  Jeremy looked up toward the second level. Nothing except the light was visible. “Mark Young, Steven Young, Shirley Young and James Young are presented as commanded.”

  Mrs. Shadowitz’s voice sounded from above. “Thank you Jeremy, you may leave.” No sooner had the massive door closed behind Jeremy, Mrs. Shadowitz continued. “You have all been summoned to this emergency session of The Council of Elders of The Seventh Mountain to be informed of the gravely important nature of recently acquired information, as it concerns your very lives and the course of events yet to come.

  “Mark, as you well know, Benrah was most adamant in his wish to tell you something. It is for that very purpose that Mr. Diefenderfer, Mr. Young and Mr. Barns were brought back to life and it is the decision of this council that the information is to be relayed to you and your family.

  “Benrah is of the opinion that you will acquire an artifact of significance to him sometime in the relatively near future. He says he gives you the
choice of either destroying it utterly or returning it to him. Should you decide not to do this, he says he will destroy everyone and everything you ever held dear.

  “As a sign of his will, he says he has re-inflicted Mr. Diefenderfer and Mr. Young with their old scars.”

  Mark had been looking up but turned to his left when he heard his mother sigh. He saw his dad put his arms around her to keep her from falling over. She had fainted, again.

  Mrs. Shadowitz said, “Steven, you may remove her from the chamber. Jeremy will be waiting. James, you may leave as well.”

  James clasped his hands together in front of himself and his voice sounded shaky. “Ma’am, I’d like to stay with my brother if that’s alright?”

  “Very well.”

  The large door opened. Steve scooped Shirley into his arms and walked out.

  The door closed again before Mrs. Shadowitz spoke. “Mark, we are unable to determine what this artifact is that you will allegedly recover. We say allegedly in the light that this may be the start of a multi-layered design by Benrah toward some other end. The Ummim-Thummim indicated Benrah spoke truth about his desire to destroy a specific artifact, but we have no clue what the artifact might be. When any statement involves you, the stone will still not answer, so we don’t know if he spoke truth when threatening everyone and everything you hold dear. Nor do we know if it was truth when he said your enemies will petition to become your friends when you succeed.

  “What we do know is that Benrah must control a great many artifacts to enable him to keep control of the world once he has attained it. It doesn’t make sense for him to desire an artifact be destroyed unless that artifact is likely to work against him.