The Book from Baden Dark

by James Moloney

  ‘The same way the Book of Lies came from in there. It was made with the same magic. Alwyn was the intruder Long Beard couldn’t identify.’

  While they coped with the shock of this revelation, Marcel pressed his hands against the rock, forcing a breach almost instantly.

  ‘Stay here,’ he said. ‘I’ll go through and leave this book in the dust for those ghosts to read,’ and as soon as the opening was wide enough to let him through, he began to move.

  Fergus obeyed, taking his cousin at his word, but Bea wasn’t so sure. There was something in the way Marcel had greeted them earlier. You’ll have to go back, he’d snapped as soon as he saw them. Why would he have said that if he was only going this far himself? They would all be heading back together soon enough, wouldn’t they? No, something was driving Marcel. It was there in his face as they’d stood arguing. As soon as he turned away to slip through the breach, Bea grasped Fergus’s hand once more and pulled him towards the opening.

  This would be tricky. If it was just her, she could stay in the abundant shadows untouched by the light Marcel was conjuring from the rocky walls of Baden Dark, but with a human to hide as well … She poked her head through and found Marcel preoccupied with searching the vast space. She had time to tug Fergus through and bundle him silently and unseen into the darker spaces further away before Marcel suspected anything. From here they could both watch.

  Sure enough, after his quick surveillance of the cavern, Marcel dropped the book back into his pack and turned his will upon the open breach. The grinding of rock against rock echoed through the enormous space until a dull thud announced the job was done and Baden Dark was sealed once more.

  Marcel celebrated his feat by increasing the light around him. The first things he saw in this stronger glow were Bea and Fergus. Bea couldn’t see her own face, of course, but she imagined it was a match for Fergus’s, which was scowling in accusation.

  ‘That old book of Alwyn’s isn’t the only thing full of lies,’ said Fergus.

  ‘I couldn’t let you come with me. It’s too dangerous.’

  ‘We survived before. Why will this time be any different?’

  ‘Because this place is more dangerous than anything we’ve faced before. It’s evil, Fergus. More than you can possibly know. It’s not like Damon or Eleanor or Starkey, who were eaten up by their greed and hatred. This place is where that evil comes from.’

  ‘What are you talking about?’ said Bea. ‘That kind of evil came from inside their own hearts; it doesn’t come from a place like this.’

  ‘Doesn’t it? When I was in Noam, I heard the great sages speak. Many believe there is such a place and all the misery, the chaos, the death and damage of war, the hard-hearted cruelty one person can do to another, it all comes from there. Baden Dark could be that place. This may be where the evil comes from that robs the Mortal Kingdoms of justice, joy, lives without the misery of war.’

  What could either of them say? It sounded like madness, but at the same time, what if he was right?

  ‘How can you tell what this place is really like?’ Fergus demanded.

  ‘I can’t, not until I explore it more. That’s why I’ve come back, to find out. Do you see now why you can’t come with me? If Baden Dark is the place I think it is, the journey will be too dangerous.’

  ‘What are you going to do?’ Fergus asked in a deep, compelling voice.

  ‘I’ve told you. I’m going to explore deeper than Dominie Suskin ever could, deeper than Long Beard or Ebert would ever want to. I’m going to —’

  ‘That’s not what I mean,’ said Fergus, interrupting before he built up another rush of words. ‘What are you going to do if you find Baden Dark really is the place you think it is?’

  Marcel stared at his cousin, weighing words and rejecting them in his mind.

  ‘I’m going to destroy it.’ He let the words hang ominously in the air until they understood. ‘There, you know now. It will be the most dangerous thing I’ve ever done. I’m not even sure I can do it. So will you go back to Long Beard and Kertigan and leave me to my task.’

  ‘Your task!’ said Bea. ‘Why is it up to you? Sounds like you should have a whole army of wizards, all those sages you talked about.’

  ‘Bea’s right. The more dangerous it is, the more help you’ll need,’ Fergus added. ‘You need us with you at the very least.’

  ‘No! You don’t understand. This is no ordinary place; it’s not the mountain passes into Lenoth Crag, it’s not the ocean in a storm. I don’t know what I’m going to find. How can I protect you when I might not be able to protect myself? Please, you must go back.’

  ‘Not until we know more,’ said Fergus. ‘One minute you’ve decided this place is evil, you might even destroy it; the next minute you haven’t got a clue. You’re not thinking straight, Marcel. All the more reason for us to come with you.’

  ‘Baden Dark isn’t like any place we can imagine.’

  ‘You’ve said that, but how can you tell? There’s air to breathe and ground to walk on. Doesn’t seem so different to me.’

  ‘The Book of Lies came from here.’

  ‘The Book of Lies did a lot of good things at first,’ said Bea, agreeing with Fergus. ‘Its evil came from all the lies on its pages, human lies, spoken in the Mortal Kingdoms, not down here under the mountain. This place could be both good and evil, like the rest of the world.’

  Listening to their doubts, Marcel looked ready to burst.

  Bea went to him and took his arm, speaking more softly. ‘If you’re right about this place, if all the evil things that happen in the Mortal Kingdoms start here in Baden Dark, then this will be the greatest discovery since … forever!’ she said when she couldn’t think of anything to compare. ‘And if you can cut off that dark influence before it begins, you won’t be saving just one kingdom from misery, you’ll change the life of everyone.’

  Bea had been leading up to what she really wanted to say, that such an important mission couldn’t be left to one person, but before she could make her point, Marcel jumped in.

  ‘Yes, yes, at last you understand,’ he cried, and suddenly his agitation turned into a frenzy of glee. For a moment, Bea thought he would dance a jig around her like some happy miller’s boy at the spring fair. ‘You see how important it is now, how I can’t be distracted by having you with me,’ he said.

  ‘Distracted!’ snorted Fergus.

  Bea didn’t like the word either and, despite his odd change of mood, she could feel herself getting annoyed with him. ‘What do you mean, Marcel? The three of us have been on dangerous journeys before. We weren’t distractions for one another then; we fought together, for each other. I don’t care what you say about protecting us with your magic. Three of us are stronger than one alone. We’re coming with you.’

  ‘No, I’ll send you back if I have to.’

  ‘How are you going to do that?’ Fergus challenged him.

  ‘My magic can open that barrier again.’ Marcel raised his hand as though he was about to begin the spell.

  ‘Open the breach if you want,’ said Fergus, unimpressed, ‘but we’re staying here with you.’ And to show his determination, he folded his arms just like Bea who had come back to stand beside him.

  Bea watched as Marcel glowered at them. She’d seen him angry before but she was surprised at how different his face looked when that anger was aimed at her. She expected him to lower his hand because there was nothing he could do. They weren’t about to change their minds and he must surely see that.

  Marcel’s hand hovered close to his ear, making Bea uneasy. He should have lowered it by now, unless he was planning a different spell.

  ‘You wouldn’t dare,’ said Fergus, who had seen the same calculation in his eyes.

  Surely Marcel would never use magic against his cousin, Bea thought, and especially not against her. Yet even as she clung to this certainty, it dissolved amid the memory of Fergus’s warning. He’s different. He does things simply because he can.<
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  Bea couldn’t move. Had the spell begun already? Magic had been put to work on her body only once, when Lord Alwyn healed the terrible wound in her shoulder, but she had been delirious at the time and felt nothing. What sensations would overcome her now if Marcel turned his powers on them both? Would she lose control of her muscles? Would her entire body be lifted from the dusty ground and dumped on the other side of the barrier like a sack of flour?

  ‘Marcel!’ she shouted, more loudly than an elf had ever been heard. Her voice echoed around the enormous cavern, returning again and again as though she had multiplied into a dozen Beas, all as angry as the first one.

  Marcel lowered his hand. After watching them from the corner of his eye for a few moments, he slipped the green book into his pack.

  ‘It’s settled then,’ said Fergus, clearly relieved, but neither he nor Bea had shifted a muscle yet.

  The confrontation might have ended, and in victory for them, but it had come at a cost the three of them didn’t want to face. Marcel’s expression showed so many emotions: anger, shame, humiliation, but especially the agitation of before, which had returned with double the force. Bea’s own anger had hardly receded either. He’d been only a breath away from using his powers against them, against her!

  ‘What’s this all about, Marcel?’ she found herself saying. ‘There’s something you haven’t told us yet, some other reason you don’t want us with you. Come on, Fergus is right, the argument is settled and we’re coming with you, so you’d better tell us so we know what to expect.’

  ‘I can’t tell you anything ’cause I don’t even know myself,’ he said, and with the book safely stowed he strode off into the darkness without checking to see whether they followed.

  ‘What’s got into him?’ Bea said to Fergus as they set out after him.

  ‘Magic,’ came the reply.

  There was something more though, Bea was sure.

  ‘He might not know what we’re going to find, but there’s some plan he’s not telling us about, something he doesn’t even want to tell himself,’ she whispered. After that, she was too busy keeping up to say any more.

  CHAPTER 19

  Mortregis Reborn

  WITH THE WALLS OF rock on either side glowing at his command, Marcel kept up his long strides until he guessed he must be thirty or forty paces ahead of his companions. He needed that space to think about what he’d just done, or threatened to do at least. He’d held his hand ready to cast a spell over two of the people he cared about most. He wouldn’t have done it, of course. He’d simply wanted them to go back through the barrier where they would be safe, then Fergus had called his bluff and made his threats seem even more foolish. The humiliation made him angry, but he was more annoyed with himself for the look he’d brought to Bea’s face. For a few moments she hadn’t been sure of him. What a fool. What sort of a friend was he?

  Where were those ghosts? They held no fear for him, but he could do with something to vent his emotions upon, something he could use his magic against — the magic that had seemed strangely powerless, even pointless, when Bea’s eyes looked into his.

  ‘She shouldn’t be here in Baden Dark, that’s the problem,’ he muttered into the lifeless air. Silently, he told himself why. He cared about her, didn’t want her hurt. He didn’t want any of them to be harmed, not even himself, but there was the heart of his dilemma. Sometimes sacrifices had to be made, danger had to be faced by those who were born to meet it. He was ready.

  They had entered a second large cavern by now. Marcel moved ahead more cautiously, increasing the light where he had to and keeping his head tilted down towards the dust.

  ‘What are you looking at?’ Fergus asked.

  ‘Suskin’s tracks,’ he said, pointing. ‘He made it this far before his nerve gave out.’

  A little further on, though, the dominie’s footsteps had a parallel path beside them, heading back the way they had come, and after another ten paces they found the place where he had turned around.

  Marcel lingered, making the others wait for him.

  ‘What are you looking for this time?’ Fergus asked.

  ‘I’m not looking for anything. I’m listening.’

  Fergus and Bea did the same, though there was nothing to hear, not even the occasional scream from the ghosts who hadn’t returned to trouble them as Marcel had hoped.

  ‘The silence of a tomb,’ said Bea with a shudder. ‘What are we listening for anyway?’

  ‘A dragon.’

  The other two were still gaping at him when a low rumble echoed through the cavern, more a vibration they could feel through their feet than the air around them.

  ‘How close is it?’ said Fergus, his hand already on the hilt of his sword.

  What good will that do, thought Marcel. Suskin had described the dragon as so large its wings couldn’t expand in its underground lair. He felt the first tinge of fear since leaving the ledge where even now Long Beard, Kertigan and Suskin would still be sleeping. His mind latched onto Suskin, a frightened fool. He’d only seen the beast’s shadow cast against the wall. In a fevered brain like his, any foe would be five times the size, ten times, a hundred, and a shadow was never the same size as the body that cast it.

  But did it matter whether the dragon was enormous or simply the size of a man’s nightmares? The flames of its breath would be as hot, the evil in its eyes as deadly.

  ‘I can’t tell how far,’ he said, answering Fergus at last. ‘Sound travels a long way down here. It won’t come searching for us though.’

  Relief showed in his companions’ faces until he added, ‘We’ll have to go searching for it.’

  ‘Searching for it?’ said Fergus. ‘Marcel, are you mad! We have to stay out of its way.’

  ‘No, I haven’t come here to sneak past it.’ He didn’t want to explain why. These two shouldn’t even be here. ‘If you’re afraid, then go back the way we’ve come,’ he said sourly.

  He regretted the words as soon as he’d said them and marched off to hide his mistake and the confusion it brought him, heading towards the noise that grew louder with each step nearer the towering archway ahead.

  With a hundred paces still to go, a light suddenly filled the opening, then died as quickly as it had appeared. Orange, red, yellow — its source could only be a flame of some kind. In case there was any doubt, the wall of the cavern ahead darkened with the shadow of what lay waiting for them. Marcel saw only the black lines of a silhouette and only for a second, but it was all he needed. That shape was etched onto the surface of his eyeballs. A name escaped his lips.

  ‘Mortregis.’

  ‘Stop, don’t go any further,’ Fergus called.

  ‘But I have to see it, to know it’s Mortregis. The dragon Suskin described sounded different.’

  ‘No, don’t show yourself. It will come after us.’

  ‘It already knows we’re here, Fergus. It’s come to challenge and frighten us, like the ghosts, to make us back away. If it wanted to kill, it would have finished off poor Suskin when it sensed his presence.’

  This didn’t seem to reassure Fergus and he hung back with Bea, ready to flee and not afraid to show it.

  They don’t understand, Marcel reminded himself. He kept going towards the massive archway into the next cavern. Not that he intended to stand there inviting a quick and fiery death. He crept to the edge and, with his hands against the rock, steeled himself for what he would see. Drawing a long breath, he pushed his head higher, leaning to the side until nothing blocked his view.

  There it was, ignoring him, it seemed, although he was suspicious of the beast’s posture. It stood turned mostly away from him, wings outstretched as though showing them off to an observer. To him? They weren’t as large as Suskin had claimed, at least. The head swivelled first to the right, then the left, admiring those wings, then down at the scales that interlocked over its belly, protecting it from spears and arrows better than the finest armour. And what a hideous head it was, long snout ext
ending beyond the shoulder as it paused in perfect profile. The more he watched, the more Marcel was certain the dragon knew it was being watched. Yet still it pretended that no intruders stood at the edge of its lair. What game was it playing, Marcel wondered.

  He sensed first one body at his side, then a second; heard the desperate intake of breath.

  ‘It’s the same dragon, the one you drove down into the Book of Lies. How can it be here, alive again?’ whispered Bea.

  ‘Because dragons cannot die. Kill one and its spirit simply slips away to where it can be reborn,’ Marcel told them. ‘Evil is spawned here. I told you, this is where it comes from. All it needs is an invitation into the world we know and it takes form there.’

  ‘Like Mortregis did through Starkey.’

  ‘Starkey was filled with greed and hatred. When he found out Zadenwolf was going to take the kingdom for himself, he was eaten up by rage. He’d become evil down to the core of his bones and, with the Book of Lies reading his heart’s desire, Mortregis emerged, ready for war.’

  ‘Do you remember the magic you used to destroy it?’ asked Bea.

  ‘No, I barely remember anything from that night, except how frightened I was.’ And how Bea had distracted Mortregis with her reckless flight on Gadfly’s back, round and round the beast’s head until it aimed its fire at them instead. He didn’t tell her, either, the relief that had rushed into his veins when he saw she’d survived. ‘That was three years ago. I’m a sorcerer now, with more power in my magic.’

  He stepped away from the shelter given by the sweeping curve of rock and into the open where Mortregis could no longer ignore him.

  The beast turned its massive body. From the gleam in its eye as it brought its face round to inspect its foe, Marcel knew the outstretched wings and the measured way it had presented itself had been an act meant to impress and terrify. To drive home the truth of this, the dragon tilted back its head and roared so loudly rocks broke loose from the darkened dome above and thudded into the dust between them. Marcel slapped his hands to his ears and took a step backwards as he watched Mortregis flex the talons of its forelegs and test its sword-sized teeth with the tip of an enormous green tongue.