Canticum Tenebris (Wrath of the Old Gods Book 2)

by John Triptych

  The next thing he knew, Orlok couldn’t move his hands. He made a slight step backwards, but then he couldn’t move his extremities anymore. A slight shriek came out of his mouth before he realized that his entire body was now paralyzed. That was when he saw a strange, silvery white mist emanating from his own skin. The staff fell from his frozen hands and clattered on the floor.

  Tara closed her eyes as the life force began to drain from the old wizard and started to seep back into her body. As the seconds passed, she began to feel more alive. After less than a minute, she felt reenergized. It was as if she had been made whole again.

  When she opened her eyes a moment later, all that was left of Kurt Orlok was a mound of grey dust on the floor along with a black robe and a metal staff that lay nearby.

  Gyle stood in front of the doors that lead to the engine room. He tried pounding it with his fists but the thick metal only incurred a few dents. He could use his claws but it would probably take hours to get through. As he looked around the metallic corridor, he could note where the rivets were bolted on and the grated floor underneath him. This whole place is like an old steamship, he thought as he remembered taking Marie and the kids to a steamboat museum in Texas once. That was when he realized that there was a massive golden tube underneath the grating.

  Using all his strength, Gyle tore through the flooring and then pulled against a patch that seemed to have been riveted on the massive piping. A squeaking sound of twisted metal followed as he ripped off the sheet of iron and exposed the exhaust as the hot mist exploded around him. Gyle’s skin had become less sensitive to pretty much anything so he ignored the slightly warmer feeling as he crawled inside and began to make his way past where the doors above him were.

  When he burst through underneath the flooring, there were still about half a dozen occultists in the engine room. They were expecting him to get through the door first so their backs were behind him as he tore his way out of the floor and stood upright. Two of the guards had set up a more powerful lightning weapon that was mounted on a tripod, but it was useless since the gun was facing the door. Gyle made short work of them and then he smashed the weapon by stomping on it with his feet. Three more had knives and lead pipes and they charged at him. Less than a minute later, there were just pieces of them on the floor as the blood and entrails began to seep down the grating.

  Gyle looked around. The massive chamber was dominated by a vertical glass tube that was surrounded by pistons, snake-like tubing, and revolving gears. Wisps of steam would periodically emanate from numerous vents and ducts, as the humming sound of the engines reverberated all around him. He noticed some sort of movement within the giant cylinder. There was something alive inside of it.

  “Please … don’t kill me. I give up,” a voice from a nearby alcove said.

  Pivoting quickly, Gyle crouched, ready to strike. The man that was hiding was Helmut Krause. He had wedged himself in between two consoles, but it was clear he would be found sooner or later, so he did the most logical thing and decided to give up. Helmut squeezed his way out from his hiding place and fell on his knees.

  Gyle stood over him as he wiped the blood from his lips. “You in charge here?”

  Helmut had wet his pants. “No. The Grand M-Magus runs everything. I-I’m just his assistant. Please don’t kill me!”

  “I’ll probably let you live if you answer my questions,” Gyle said as he looked at the vertical pipe. “Is there somebody in that glass tube?”

  “Yes. The Myrking is in there. We, I mean, the Magus t-trapped him inside the engine so his form could channel the energy needed to run the airship.”

  “Myrking? Is he with the dark elves?”

  “Y-Yes, he is their king. As long as we kept him alive as our hostage, they would not revolt.”

  “Good, get him out of there.”

  “What?”

  Gyle grabbed Helmut by the hood of his robes and held him aloft using one hand. “I said let him go!”

  “B-But if we release him then the energies keeping the ship in the air will cease to function! We will crash to the ground below us!”

  Gyle threw him down on the floor. “Do it, or I’ll rip your guts out!”

  Helmut whimpered slightly as he crawled over to a control panel and then began to push levers and buttons. Within moments, a loud siren emanated from every corridor. He hesitated a little but when he saw Gyle’s bloodshot eyes looking straight at him, Helmut bit his lip and pulled the final bar.

  A loud clanging noise erupted in the engine room as the glass cylinder began to break. Cracks formed along its opaque surface. Gyle noticed a dark hand press itself against the glass. Moments later, the glass finally caved in and the Myrking pushed his way out. The leader of the dark elves was a tall man wearing strips of black rags. His skin was jet black and his long hair and beard were of the whitest silver. But the most otherworldly thing about him were his eyes, the all-white pupils glowed with a pale hue.

  The moment that Myrking saw Helmut, he instantly ran over to him and grabbed him by the throat. “By all the hells, you and your accursed kind has kept me trapped in that infernal machine for the longest time! By all that is mine, you shall die!”

  Helmut screamed a final time as the Myrking held him, locking eyes with him. A pale, grayish mist emanated from Helmut as his life essence was torn from him and the Myrking drank his soul greedily. When the king of the dark elves finally let go, all that was left of Helmut was a dried out husk and bones.

  Gyle just stood there as he watched it happen. When the Myrking was finished, he started to speak. “He told me that you were keeping this ship afloat in the air. I think we better get out of here.”

  The Myrking stared back at him for a long time without saying anything. But then the ship began to shudder and they could feel a bit of weightlessness before the whole chamber began to tip sideways. “I thank you, changed one. Lead the way.”

  Gyle nodded before taking off like a lightning bolt. As he looked over his shoulder, he noticed that the Myrking was keeping up with him almost step for step. They both moved quickly across corridors that began to twist and sway as the ship started to break apart. Since they were near the underbelly of the airship, Gyle took another route as they made their way towards the gun ports. Sure enough, he noticed that there were gaps in the armor where the last attack on earth had damaged the airship. They both quickly tore through a weakened part of the hull and made a leaping jump before landing on top of the dry dock. Moments later, the airship collapsed in on itself as it fell backwards and tore off the mooring at the top of the tower. They watched as a once powerful weapon of war crumpled and dropped down into the valley below.

  The Myrking pointed towards the hole that was at the top of the cone. “That is where the cauldron of evil lies. The Sidhe princess is trapped inside, I felt her cries of help as the soul energies coursed through us.”

  “Wait here,” Gyle said as he jumped up, jackknifed in the air and dived into the hole that was left when the mooring gave way. The vertical drop was almost two thousand feet. It’s like falling into a volcano, Gyle thought as he plunged down head first. The great cauldron was at the bottom and was surrounded by a mountain of bones. The Pair Dadeni was once used to revive the ancient heroes of Ireland, but it had been turned into a reactor that fed on the souls of people that were sacrificed to it. Princess Charissa was chained along its side as she screamed while her powerful life essence was used to channel the mystical energies upwards. Gyle’s velocity had increased in a matter of seconds as he twisted his body and rammed feet first into the bottom of the cauldron. The resulting collision shattered the Pair Dadeni into a thousand pieces.

  There was a small crowd that stood at the edge of the portal that led back to the world of the dark elves. Tara had managed to steal some clothes from the tower and she was now wearing a pair of jeans underneath her black robes. She was crouching on top of the platform beside the makeshift stretcher that had Ilya lying on it. The boy’s breathin
g was erratic and Tara had a distinct thought that he might die.

  A pale, silvery hand placed itself on her shoulder. It was Charissa. “Do not worry, Tara. My people, the fey, we will nurse him back to health. He may be but a boy, but he is strong and clever.”

  Tara’s mouth trembled as she stood up and hugged the princess. “Please, make him well again. He’s my one true friend.”

  Charissa nodded as she signaled the four Sidhe knights that came from the faerie realms to take up the stretcher and carry it through the portal. “We shall send a messenger to you as soon as the boy is well again,” she said before waving goodbye and stepped through to the other world along with Ilya.

  The Myrking bowed before Gyle as he was being surrounded by the dark elves. “I thank you, warrior. I return now to my own realm. If you ever wish to visit us again, you and your companions will always be welcomed as honored guests.”

  Gyle nodded. “Just stay safe and keep the peace.”

  “That we shall,” the Myrking said before disappearing through the portal along with his entourage.

  The raven just sat there as it watched the numerous farewells before turning to look at Tara. “It’s going to take some time for the boy to heal. It’s because time flows much slower in the faerie lands compared to Earth.”

  Tara wiped her eyes with the sleeves of her robe as she was tearing up again. “Ilya went out of his way just to rescue me. I can’t wait till he comes back. I made a promise to him that we would find his mother.”

  Gyle turned away in shame. “It was my fault. I should have been with him first before taking out the ship. I thought they were all at the top of the tower.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Tara said softly. “At least he’s alive and will be back in once piece soon.”

  The raven looked at both of them. “So now what?”

  Tara sighed. “Has the world gotten any better while I was a prisoner?”

  Gyle shook his head. “Nope. It just seems to be getting worse.”

  Tara pulled the robes closer to her. There was a chill wind coming across the mountain pass. “Then let’s go. There is so much to do.”

  “To do what?”

  “What else? Save the world.”

  28. Coda

  Oregon

  There was a small stream less than a hundred yards from the shelter, so she always volunteered to gather some plants just so she could visit it. Although one of the more enterprising people of the group had set up a deep well with a water pump within the compound, she preferred to go out into the forest as much as she could. The shelter was basically a single passageway dug into the side of the hill that led to numerous chambers. Even though she had a room for herself and the kids, it was still quite stuffy and claustrophobic inside. The weather was getting colder by the day so she wanted to spend as much time out in the wilderness as she could, despite the possible dangers that lurked around.

  The group had been living for months now deep in the heart of the Umatilla National Forest, near the center of the state. When the Glooming began, she had her heart set on staying with the kids in Dallas but when the continuous streams of bad news kept coming, her brother Tim had driven all the way down from Oregon to pick them all up. She hadn’t wanted to go at first, thinking she ought to wait for her husband, but then the news about the debacle in the Middle East stunned her as well as everybody else. Deep in her heart, she had believed that the news her spouse had died would one day reach her and she would have to live with it. But what made it even worse was she hadn't received any news at all. The reality was that all the overseas troops were largely cut off. Even if he was alive, there was probably no chance he would make it back to America until the crisis was over.

  It had been a good thing that she decided to lock up the house and head to the Pacific Northwest with Tim. Just days later, the entire southern half of Texas had been lost to the hordes of demons coming in from the southern border. The journey to Oregon had taken a long time, and they had seen things that she thought could have only been possible in the movies. Her two daughters had cried and been scared for the first few weeks but when they had finally made it to the compound, they had adapted to a new life very quickly. She had been fortunate her brother was a hardcore survivalist; he and his friends, along with their families, had been preparing for that very day when all hell broke loose. And it had.

  Now the days were spent planting and gathering food. Hunting was reserved for special occasions. They had all learned the hard way to kill the animals of the forest only when it was necessary. One time, when Tim and his friend Richard had killed over a dozen wild turkeys in a single hunt, something came out from the darkness the next evening and took her brother’s friend. They had found Richard’s remains a few days later. That was when a shaman from the Tillamook tribe visited them and told them that they had angered the Great Spirit. From then on, they would only kill no more than two animals at a time, and they would pay their respects to it, using silent prayers and rituals. Tim had lived in fear for days when he killed a doe that still had an unborn baby in its womb. He had sat at the edge of the compound and fasted for nearly a week in order to placate the Great Spirit. After that, they all had to make sure that they would kill only the animals that were old enough to die from something else.

  She had left her daughters with the other families as she came out with Tim and headed towards the stream that day. By this time, she had taken a crash course in finding edible plants, so she picked up a few and put it into her cloth sack as she moved towards the creek. There was plenty of pickle weed near the banks of the stream and her youngest had taken a liking to them. Her boots were wearing out, but they were still serviceable.

  Tim waved at her as he stood on a nearby ridge. His Remington 700 was slung over his back. “I think I saw a grouse about a few yards that way,” he said, pointing at a nearby tree line. “I’ll be away from visual range but if you need anything, just holler.”

  “No problem,” she said. Her Mossberg 500 tactical shotgun was slung over her shoulder as well. Her husband had seen to it that she take lessons and knew how to handle herself. “Just be careful. You don’t want to have to fast for another week if you screw up again.”

  Tim shook his head before walking away. “Very funny.”

  When he walked out of sight, she bent down and looked at her reflection in the water. She was nearly forty now, but she still had her youthful looks. Wrinkles had begun to form near her eyes but she guessed it was more from stress than anything else. Just as her thoughts began to stray, she suddenly saw what looked like someone else’s reflection in the water. It had pale skin and red eyes and seemed to be standing behind her.

  She quickly turned around as she dropped her sack and readied the shotgun. She saw what looked like a blur from the corner of her eye but didn’t see anything. “Tim?”

  For what seemed like a long time, all she did was look around. The forest was strangely calm and all she could hear was the slight howl of the wind. Suddenly, cawing sounds coming from the trees above her made her jump and her index finger almost pulled the trigger on the shotgun.

  As she looked up, she saw a black raven perched up high in the pine branches above. She was tempted to shoot at it for scaring the heck out of her, but then she realized that the Indians considered those black birds to be sacred animals, and the last thing she wanted to do now was to piss off the Great Spirit. She didn’t want to waste precious ammo either so she pointed the shotgun away.

  “Marie,” a guttural but familiar voice beside her said.

  She stood completely still. Her heart was pounding with terror and her breathing was shallow. She was tempted to turn and bring the shotgun to bear, but something was telling her not to.

  “It’s alright, Marie. I’m not gonna hurt you.”

  She turned around slowly, the shotgun cradled in her arms pointing downward.

  That was when she saw him. He was completely naked. His thick leathery skin was as pale as milk. All of
his body hair was gone and it didn’t even look like he had genitals anymore. His pale red eyes were too ashamed to look at her directly.

  She let out a deep breath before the words came out. “Patrick?”

  Patrick Gyle said nothing as he just looked away and nodded.

  “Oh my God, I thought you were dead. What happened to you?”

  “I made a choice,” he said softly. “I needed to be something …more than human if I was going to fight them.”

  “Fight who?”

  “The ones who threaten this country. The ones who threaten my family. The ones who threaten you. I’m a soldier, it’s all I know.”

  Marie fought back tears. She wanted to put her arms around him, but he just looked so different. “Are you coming back to us now?”

  “Not yet. The Aztecs will be coming soon, and I have to get ready for them.”

  “What about us? What about the kids?”

  Gyle held his arm out for her to see. His stubby hand ended in black, razor sharp claws. “Just tell them that I’m alive. Please don’t tell them I look like this. I can’t face them looking like this.”

  Marie couldn’t hold it back anymore. She let out a sob. “Oh, Patrick.”

  His voice was almost a whisper. “I have to go. I’ll try to see you again. If I don’t come back, just don’t forget about me.”

  “Patrick wait—”

  And then he was gone. He moved so fast, it was like a distortion in the air. One minute he was there and the next it was as if never existed. All she could see were the trees and the flowing waters of the creek.

  By the time Tim got back to the area, he found his sister Marie just sitting by the side of the stream, crying her eyes out.

  Otherworld

  The old wizard gingerly stepped over the crushed glass amidst the wreckage of the former master’s chambers. That was when he noticed the pile of ash near the center of the room. Seth Solomon was tempted to pick up the lightning staff that was lying on the ground, but it just wasn’t his style. He preferred to let others do his fighting for him.