Canticum Tenebris (Wrath of the Old Gods Book 2)

by John Triptych

  “You do not need to apologize,” Andrei said. “If you had tried to fight her, you would have ended up dead like me. At least now you’re alive and still fighting.”

  “I hate that witch for killing you. Once I find my mother and defeat Chernobog I will kill Baba Yaga too.”

  “No need to try to gain revenge,” Andrei said softly. “After all, it was my stupid idea to go into her hut, remember? She didn’t kill you because you didn’t steal anything. She was only protecting her possessions.”

  “You are right, I just feel an emptiness inside every time I try to think of revenge. I’m sorry.”

  Andrei pointed to the hulking, pale humanoid standing by the sandy beach, less than a hundred yards away. “Who is that monster?”

  Ilya turned and looked before facing his best friend again. “Oh, he used to be an American soldier. His name is Patrick Gyle, I think.”

  “What happened to him? He looks like a cross between a crocodile and a vampire.”

  “Raven told me that Noah gave him some sort of magical plant and he ate it. He may not look human anymore, but he has the strength of a hundred men and can withstand bullets with that thick skin of his. He moves like a bolt of lightning too.”

  “He sounds like a superhero. Pity that he is very ugly.”

  Ilya laughed. “I wouldn’t say that to his face, but then again, I doubt he could do anything to you.”

  “Very funny you little bastard,” Andrei said as he shook a fist.

  “So what will happen to you now? Will you stay on this island forever?”

  Andrei shrugged. “I don’t know. I heard from Ozwiena that kids like me might be reborn again, but that would mean we lose all our memories of our previous life.”

  Ilya smiled. “That is good. I hope you do get reborn again. You deserve another chance at life. I talked to Ozwiena too.”

  “You did? When?”

  “After I escaped from Baba Yaga’s hut. I was in the middle of a forest when I chanced upon Radegast, the god of hospitality. He took me to his mead hall and there I met Ozwiena.”

  “That must have been quite an adventure. I have heard of your deeds when you and another mortal joined forces and defeated an American god. If you keep this up you might be the next Ivan Tsarevich or Ilya Muromets. But of course those two are taller, stronger, and better looking.”

  “Asshole!”

  “What? I was trying to complement you.”

  Ilya frowned. “Go ahead, make fun of me! Anyway, I was wondering if you know something about that other mortal. Her name is Tara and it seems that she was abducted by a mysterious enemy. Have you heard anything about that in the spirit world?”

  “Let me think,” Andrei said as he looked down on the ground. “Ah, I have been hearing whispers in the wind about a war between the Dokkalfar and the Sidhe. I am not sure but it may have something to do with your friend.”

  “The Dokkalfar? Who are they?”

  “They are also known as the dark elves. They supposedly live under the ground and their skin is as black as the night. They have accused the faerie nobles of abducting their kin.”

  “Dark elves? I think I must have seen movies about them before.”

  “Well the real ones are different than what we saw in those movies. They seem much shorter for one, about half your size.”

  “They are like dwarves then?”

  “I think so. They are known throughout the Spirit World as makers of weapons and experts at crafting metalwork. Be careful about them though, I heard that they can be dangerous when crossed.”

  “Thank you for the information,” Ilya said. “I wish there was something I could do for you in return.”

  Andrei smiled. “I think our meeting here has been quite beneficial for me too. For a time, I was feeling sad and alone. Now that you have gone out of your way just to meet me again I can feel a sense of peace, Ilya. I think I am ready to move on now.”

  Ilya was shocked. “Where will you be going to?”

  “I don’t know,” Andrei said softly. “But whatever happens, it was nice to see you again and now you can continue your hero’s journey. We will be best friends forever. Thank you and perhaps we shall meet again, hopefully in better times.”

  Ilya’s eyes began to tear up. “Goodbye, Andrei.”

  “At least you stopped calling me Buratino,” Andrei said as he laughed before his form shimmered and then faded away into the nearby mists.

  The raven had been perching on Gyle’s shoulders as he stood near the sandy beach like a statue. They both saw that Ilya was now walking back towards them. The boy’s cheeks were flushed as he stood in front of them a few minutes later.

  Gyle’s voice was guttural, like a moan coming from a deep, dark well. “Are you okay, kid?”

  “Yes,” Ilya said before switching his eyes to the bird. “Thank you for bringing me here. It was good to see my friend for one last time.”

  “Well you did earn it,” the raven said.

  Ilya kept staring at the bird. “What happened to your dog form? I thought gods couldn’t be killed.”

  “It was damaged. Besides, I felt it might be better to assume a more mobile animal, one that can fly,” the raven said.

  “So you can change your shape then? Into any kind of animal?”

  “That’s one way of putting it.”

  “Why don’t you just turn into something more powerful, like a dragon, so you can breathe fire on our enemies, wouldn’t that make things easier?”

  “I don’t believe in fighting.”

  Ilya pointed at Gyle. “Is that why you brought him along? So he could do the fighting for you?”

  The black bird began to adjust its wing feathers with its beak. “That’s one way of putting it, I guess.”

  Ilya placed his hands on his hips. “Can you ever just give me a simple answer?”

  “Try asking a simple question next time.”

  Ilya shook his head. “You are really trying my patience. I wish I had another god as an ally instead of a talking bird.”

  “You should be more grateful. Especially since I saved you from those commandos.”

  Ilya pointed at Gyle again. “It was him who saved me, not you.”

  “If it wasn’t for me bringing him, you would be back in the military stockade.”

  Ilya sighed. “Alright, thank you, bird god, for saving me. When I talked to my friend Andrei, he said something about a war between the faeries and the dark elves and that might have something to do with Tara’s kidnapping.”

  Gyle twisted his head to look at the bird on his shoulder. “These beings, why would they go to war over a human girl?”

  “Faeries covet mortals to help populate their realms,” the raven said. “Since they live forever, time passes quite differently there, and they get bored quite easily. A human guest in their kingdoms might amuse them for a time.”

  “I’ve heard of such stories,” Gyle said. “They would substitute a fairy when they would take a human child, the creatures they call changelings.”

  “But there was no substitution when Tara was abducted. She was in a convoy full of soldiers. One of these soldiers told me the story was that they were attacked by chorts. In Russia we call them devils and demons,” Ilya said.

  Gyle stretched out one of his long arms and the raven perched on his hand. “Do the faeries have demonic allies?”

  “Faeries have been called many names, sometimes as demons,” the black bird said. “But they prefer trickery over brute force.”

  “Then perhaps it isn’t the faeries who took her,” Ilya said. “What about these dark elves. Are they evil creatures?”

  The raven looked up into the sunny sky. “How many times must I tell you, boy. No being is inherently good or totally evil. Each have their sides, like that of a coin. The dark elves almost never involve themselves in human affairs.”

  “Then perhaps someone made them do it,” Gyle said. “Regardless, we need to travel to those places in order to find out.�
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  Ilya pulled out some bits of raskovnik from the folds of his jacket. “I still have some of this magical plant left. They will allow me to tell if the faeries and the elves are telling the truth.”

  “We ought to go to the faerie realms first,” Gyle said. “Raven, can you send us over there?”

  “As I’ve told you before,” the raven said. “You merely have to use your mind and start walking. The path to the other worlds will reveal themselves to you.”

  “Then let us get started,” Ilya said as he started to walk along the beach.

  As the three of them started moving in one direction, the path ahead soon began to shimmer and change completely. Within a matter of seconds, they were now walking along a path while gigantic trees were all around them. They could not see the night sky, but the forest was illuminated by a strange phosphorescent yellow glow. There were a number of fireflies that flew back and forth, like miniature lanterns. They could smell fragrances both wondrous and strange as the entire realm seemed to be made of flowers. Distant sounds of clanging metal and laughter could be heard but they couldn’t pinpoint the direction from where it came.

  Ilya felt his winter boots were too heavy, but he made it an effort to keep up with Gyle’s long strides. “This seems to be a much better place than Booyan. If I were to go into the afterlife as a ghost, I would prefer to stay here.”

  The raven was perched on Gyle’s shoulder once more. “Beware of the faeries and their tricks.”

  Ilya snorted. “Well, you’re a trickster god too if I remember correctly, shouldn’t I be wary of trusting you too?”

  “As you wish,” the raven said nonchalantly.

  Gyle stopped and held up a restraining hand to make sure the boy stopped too. “I sense something up ahead. Be on guard.”

  Ilya rolled his eyes. “That is pretty obvious.”

  As the armored man and the boy began to walk down the path again, it soon led into a massive clearing that looked to be the center of the forest. A huge bonfire had been started and its flames seemed to leap up into the heavens. Countless little creatures were darting to and fro, using tongs to take glowing bars of metal from the fire and carry them to over a dozen waiting anvils. A small army of blacksmiths that seemed to be the size of garden gnomes were hammering away, trying to forge weapons for war.

  “Halt,” a voice that came from their left flank said. “Who dares to venture into the faerie realms without permission?”

  As the three of them turned, they saw what seemed to be a horde of creatures in all shapes and sizes that began to surround them. Eight-foot tall ogres with clubs, glowing winged faeries the size of large crickets, pint-sized imps and dwarves- all brandishing jet-black spears. The multitude of snarling, raging supernatural beings began pointing their spears, some of them thrusting their weapon points forward, threatening to skewer both Gyle and the boy as they began to hem them in.

  Gyle crouched low as he prepared to charge them. “Raven, get ready and take on the flying creatures as soon as I get started. Boy, when I go, you follow close and then head off into the forest as soon as there’s a gap. If I’m still alive, I’ll find you,” he whispered over his shoulder.

  Ilya placed a restraining hand on Gyle’s rugged elbow. “I have a better idea,” the boy said as he used his free hand to take out the bits of raskovnik and brandished it in front of the faeries.

  Almost immediately, the front ranks of the horde began to shriek and fall back. Even the giant ogres squealed like scared pigs as they ran backwards, nearly crushing the smaller dwarves and imps that were behind them. The little winged creatures that had planned an attack from the air, instantly flew away towards the sheltering branches of the nearby trees. As Ilya began to wave the magical herbs back and forth in front of him, the once massive army of faeries began to dissolve into scared packs of critters that were running to and fro, desperate to get away from the herbal scent of the raskovnik.

  Even though he could no longer show anymore emotions on his leathery face, Gyle was impressed. “Jesus H. Christ. How did you know they have a weakness for that kind of plant?”

  Ilya couldn’t help but smile as he put the plant bits back into his coat pocket. “The raskovnik is a very powerful herb, according to the folk tales of Russia. It can do almost anything, and I heard that these faeries can be affected by special plants.”

  The raven had hardly moved from Gyle’s shoulder. “So you made a guess? And the right guess at that?” the trickster said.

  “I felt that it was worth a try,” the boy said. “Thinking your way past a problem is better than fighting your way through one.”

  Gyle nodded. “Smart kid.”

  “If you please, my name is Ilya. I prefer to be called that over boy or kid,” Ilya said tersely.

  The sound of stomping hooves was soon heard as the center of the horde parted and a troop of supernatural cavalry had arrived. Leading the front was a huge black warhorse and a man-sized being riding on an ornate saddle sitting on top of it. The knight was wearing a greenish brown colored armor that seemed to be made of tree bark. His long green beard protruded from the bottom of his ornate wooden helm. Right behind him were assorted dwarves mounted on billy goats, their spears and lances pointed downwards as if ready for an immediate charge. The faeries on foot immediately began to get emboldened by the arrival of their apparent leader, as they began to howl their war cries once more and started to advance behind the cavalry.

  The being on the horse instantly raised a gauntleted hand in the air and the horde stopped and became quiet almost instantly. “I am the Erlking, ruler of this realm! How dare you intrude upon my kingdom without permission!”

  Ilya immediately remembered the first time he had ventured into the Spirit World. The boy quickly got down to a single knee and bowed his head. “We apologize for coming into your kingdom unannounced, oh great king. We are on a quest to find our friend and companion who was kidnapped by your enemies, the dark elves. We came to you to seek your wise council and perhaps join as allies.”

  Gyle was confused for a minute, but then he understood and immediately knelt down as well. Better to let the boy do all the talking, he thought to himself.

  “Took you long enough,” the raven whispered in Gyle’s ear hole.

  The Erlking was impressed as he took off his helm and bowed slightly in return. “You may rise. I thank you for the proper introduction. It seems more and more mortals have been coming and going into my realm but very few know the ways of the fey people. You seem but a mere child, but your cleverness has impressed me, Ilya Volkhov.”

  Ilya stood up and stared at the king in surprise. “You know my name?”

  The Erlking laughed. “Word travels fast when one converses with the goddess Ozwiena! Your deeds are renowned throughout the infinite worlds,” he said before looking at Gyle and the bird on his shoulder. “You are Patrick Gyle, once a warrior and now still a warrior, but of a different kind. And of course, how could I not know about Loki!”

  “Pardon me, great Erlking, but I must remind you that Loki died in Ragnarok,” the raven said as it ignored the shocked stares coming from Gyle and Ilya.

  The Erlking put a palm up. “Ah, you are right! How could I have forgotten? You must be Veles then!”

  “Not quite, but you’re getting close,” the black bird said.

  The Erlking finally shook his head. “I give up! All of you trickster gods can change your form, just like the fey. And there are so many of you that I cannot name each and every one for that would take forever. How would you like me to address you?”

  “Since I have taken the form of a raven here, then that would be sufficient,” the black bird said.

  “Very well, Raven it is,” the Erlking said. “Now onto the business at hand. I must tell you that we fey folk are normally beings of merriment and glad tidings, but we are now preparing for war!”

  With those words, the entire horde of faeries immediately began to bang their weapons on their shields while let
ting out their war cries in unison. This went on for a full minute before the Erlking raised his hand and the fey instantly fell silent once more.

  “We’ve heard that you are at war with the dark elves,” Gyle said. “Is there a reason for this?”

  The Erlking leaped from his horse and landed on the ground beside them. “Yes, my beloved daughter, the faerie princess Charissa, was kidnapped by the foul race of dark elves, the Dokkalfar. My kingdom now prepares to invade their accursed lands to bring her safely home.”

  Ilya looked up at the Erlking. “How do you know that it was the dark elves that took your daughter?”

  The Erlking took out a black stone from beneath his armor and held it in front of them. “This dark ore was found in her chambers, the type of rock that is unique and can only be found beneath the mountains of the Dokkalfar kingdom. Her chambers were in disarray, it was clear that she was forcefully abducted by them for they had lusted over her for thousands of years. We shall fight to bring her back and then the fey shall have justice!”

  As their king said those words, the horde of faeries began shouting and howling once again before falling silent as Ilya raised his hand, and the Erlking gestured at them to keep quiet.

  “We are also looking for one of our companions,” Ilya said. “She’s a girl named Tara and she was my friend. Someone has also kidnapped her and we are searching for clues as to who might have taken her. Do you know if the dark elves have other prisoners in their kingdom?”

  The Erlking thought about it for a minute. “The only other mortal that I have met in the past hundred years was another boy like you, not a girl. He too was searching for a way to rescue his sister from a wizard but he was from another part of your world.”

  Ilya furrowed his eyebrows. “Another boy was here? And he was going up against a wizard? Was this wizard human or was it some sort of other being?”

  “These magicians are human mortals like yourself, boy,” the Erlking said. “But they seem to be quite malevolent because they crave power in all its forms. There is a whole group of them that are active in your world, and they are causing a lot of strife there.”

  “Then it’s possible that these wizards might know about Tara too,” Ilya said. “Can you tell us everything you know about them? What are they called?”