by Chris Mawbey
The troupe went past and Mickey turned his attention to the children at play. He smiled sadly. They had their whole lives ahead of them while his had already ended; and his entire existence would soon be extinguished. Let them be happy, he thought. Let them live long lives.
Another dance troupe was making its way along the concourse. It was a large group of dancers, with accompanying musicians, prancing and cavorting across the floor. They looked like Morris Men from May Day celebrations, but these dancers had more colours in their costumes and included women. The dancers congregated around the open space at the foot of the stairwell to put on more of a display. They cavorted around the sofas and the play area, weaving around the columns that held up the stairs.
The two mums were deep in conversation and completely ignored the dancers. Then Mickey noticed that the children weren’t showing the slightest bit of interest in the performance either. He thought that they should either be watching with rapt curiosity and trying to join in or crying for their mothers to remove them from the cacophony. Then Mickey spotted something else.
“Pester,” he shouted. “The dancers have got no shadows. Where’s Elena?”
Pester had been studying more of the arcane decorations and now turned in alarm. A group of dancers suddenly blocked Pester from Mickey’s view. Mickey tried to rise but was driven back down by a blow to the chest from one of the musicians and a trio of dancers crowded around in front of him, preventing him from gaining his feet and raining blows on him. He thought he heard a cry for help but a sudden blare of music drowned out all others sounds.
The dancers and musicians began to move away. Mickey finally managed to stand up. He saw Pester sitting on the ground but Elena was missing.
Chapter 29
Both men set off after the dance troupe. The band had split up into smaller groups but there was so sign of Elena amongst them. Even as Mickey watched, the small groups dissolved and disappeared into the general crowd.
“Come on,” said Mickey.
“No,” said Pester. “Not that way. Even if we could find them again, they’ll be acting as decoys. She’s probably been taken the other way.”
Mickey looked in the opposite direction but could see nothing that gave him hope or encouragement.
Seeing the look of despair on Mickey’s face, Pester said, “Don’t worry, we’ll find her.”
“Is this Mr. Jolly’s work?”
“Aye,” Pester replied. “He still wants you, remember. He won’t hurt her, too much; but he’ll use her to draw you to him.”
“We need to get to her before he does then,” said Mickey. “You go back upstairs, I’ll stay down here.”
The two men set off, Pester quickly disappearing back up the stairs they had all come down a few minutes earlier. Mickey set off towards the centre of the mall as quickly as he could. His progress was too slow through the milling crowds and panic soon began to take hold of him. Whoever had Elena was getting further away all the time. Mickey knew what Pester had told him but he didn’t completely believe what his guide had said. He suspected that Mr. Jolly would have no compunction about harming Elena if he thought that he wasn’t going to be successful in bending Mickey to his will.
The centre of the mall opened out into a huge rotunda. Another of the skeletal pyramid structures dominated the area. This was easily twice the size of the one that Mickey had seen earlier. He paid no attention to it but focused on skirting round the centre piece as quickly as he could. Another wing of the mall ran off to Mickey’s right but he decided to forge straight ahead; he could return to the side wing later if need be. Bright light was shining in at the far end of the main concourse and Mickey took it that this was where the main entrance to the mall would be found. He worried that Elena had been taken outside. If she was still inside he had a chance of finding her. If she’d gone beyond the walls of the place he may never see her again.
The shopping area opened out into a large atrium. The glass front of the building gave uninterrupted views over the countryside and the coast in the distance. Mickey walked around the periphery of the curtain walling, looking for signs of Elena, or the group that had taken her. There was nothing. The land beyond the mall was deserted. Mickey moved to the exit doors.
“Mickey. Wait.”
Mickey turned. Pester was standing on the first floor gallery overlooking the atrium.
“Remember, you can’t retrace your steps. If you go outside you’ll go onto the next stage of the journey. You won’t be able to get back in.”
Mickey had forgotten this. If he had stepped outside he would have abandoned Elena to Mr. Jolly’s anger. Though he was relieved that Pester had stopped him in time, Mickey still shuddered at the thought of what would have happened to Elena.
“Have you seen any sign of her?” Mickey called up to Pester.
“No,” came the reply. “I haven’t checked the other wing yet though.”
“Same here,” said Mickey. “I’ll meet you back at the rotunda.”
He began to head back the way he had come. The plague doctors, or another group like them, had reached the main entrance. As Mickey walked towards them, they broke rank and, drawing realistic looking swords from beneath their cloaks, formed a circle around him.
Odd, thought Mickey, he never associated quacks with being swordsmen. He was in no mood for audience participation though and tried to push his way through the cordon. When two sword points were pressed against his chest, Mickey began to think that this wasn’t a performance. His fears were confirmed when he glanced at the floor. None of the eight plague doctors had a shadow or reflection.
Mickey raised his hands and took a couple of steps backwards.
“Pester,” he called tentatively. “We’ve got trouble.”
Pester re-appeared at the balcony and viewed Mickey’s predicament.
“What do they want?”
“They haven’t said anything yet,” Mickey replied. “But I don’t think they want me going anywhere without them.”
Keeping their blades pointing at Mickey’s chest the quacks opened up a channel towards the escalator. A jab in his back gave Mickey all the hint he needed to start walking. Four blades preceded him on the moving stair and four followed.
At the top of the escalator the swordsmen formed a guard around Mickey and escorted him back towards the rotunda. They fell into an easy, slow march to match the speed the Mickey limped along at.
Pester, completely ignored, flanked the procession.
As the central rotunda came into view Mickey could see that the dance troupe that had snatched Elena was spread out around the balcony railings. Another group of plague doctors was spaced out behind them.
The whole of the rotunda was dominated by the arcane structure that Mickey had barely registered as he had passed it on the ground floor. The peak of the creation was only a few feet below the apex of the mall’s glass roof. The pyramid was decorated with more of the large banners, ropes and effigies. Again, the ropes were wrapped with the red eyed bladed serpents and the effigies were life sized, serpent draped, skeletons.
As Mickey drew closer he could see that the skeletons were hanging by their necks. Most were partially clothed and some still wore scraps of flesh on their bones. On a platform, just below railing height, was another of the bladed serpents, coiled around the feet of a Wight. Rods and ropes ran from the body of the serpent up to a set of pulleys suspended above the Wights head.
Above railing height another platform was obscured by one of the grotesque banners, paraded by two of the dancers in a parody of magician’s assistants.
All eyes from the musical troupe turned on Mickey. Pester joined him.
After a pause, while the musicians on the balcony blared out a fanfare the banner was dropped. The revelation of Mr. Jolly and Elena brought cheers of approval from the assembled crowd. Elena was bound just below her knees and her hands were tied in front of her and her mouth was gagged. Like the Wight below, she was standing in the centre of the
coils of another of the vicious serpent devices and was guarded by two of the dance troupe. Mr. Jolly had dispensed with his Afghan coat and was wearing a red and white striped dress coat and a bright red top hat. He still wore his round lensed sunglasses and his dirty blonde hair poked from beneath the top hat, spoiling the illusion of a ringmaster.
“Mickey Raymond. Pester. Welcome to you both,” cried Mr. Jolly in his plumy voice. “Bienvenido a La Salvacion de Los Inocentes. Welcome to the Saving of the Innocents.” He spread his arms and the crowd erupted in applause. Mr. Jolly doffed his top hat and took an extravagant bow.
Mickey looked around him to see what his options were. He quickly decided that they were limited. Two swords were pointed at his back, with four more close by. Pester was now under guard as well. Mickey would never be able to fight his way free and even if he attempted it Mr. Jolly would have plenty of time to dispose of Elena before Mickey could get anywhere near him.
“Acts of heroism would be quite futile,” called Mr. Jolly, as if he had guessed what Mickey had been thinking about.
Mickey felt that he had no choice but to play along with Mr. Jolly, at least for now.
“What do you want, Jolly?”
Mr. Jolly laughed raucously and his audience joined in. “Do you really have to ask? I want you. I want to carry out the instructions of my masters and take you to The Underworld.”
“Why? What’s so important about me?” Mickey asked.
“To me, nothing at all,” Mr. Jolly replied. “You’re just another task, a soul on its journey to wherever. But important people want you removed – permanently. I do not ask questions, or even wonder why. I just do as I am instructed.”
He spread his arms again and beamed. The crowd broke into a round of applause.
Mickey tried a different tack. He wasn’t sure what he was trying to do but he hoped it would buy him some time.
“If I’m just another job for you, why do you care? Why don’t you just let me get on with my journey? There’ll be others who you’ll be able to persuade easily enough.”
“You were not listening, Mickey,” Mr. Jolly’s voice took on a cold edge. “A higher power wants you removed and they are not to be denied. They will have their way. You have seen the sad piles of bones along your route. That is what happens to those who fail. That fate is not for me. Oh, no.” Mr. Jolly’s smile returned and he wagged a playful finger at Mickey.
“So what do want Elena for?” Mickey asked.
“For the ceremony, of course,” said Mr. Jolly. “La Salvacion de Los Inocentes. A rather fine example of twisted logic. I borrowed it from some obscure culture out of the middle ages. The idea is bizarrely simple, and so hilariously misguided. To save innocent people from temptation, instead of removing the temptation you remove the person. To protect them from evil, the innocents were fed to the Serpent.” Mr Jolly indicated the platform below.
“I took the liberty of arranging a little dress rehearsal. After all, we do not want the main event to be a damp squib, do we?
“Innocents are a little hard to come by so one of my helpers had to suffice. As you can see, piety is not a prerequisite to success.”
Another of the dancers appeared on the lower platform. She began to haul on one of the pulley ropes. The serpent’s head began to rise and Mickey could see that the device had a segmented tubular body. Lethal looking blades sprouted from each segment along the body of the serpent.
The dancer continued pulling on the rope and more of the serpent’s body rose into the air, wrapping itself around the Wight’s body. The serpent’s coils tightened and the blades began to slice into flesh, tracing a series of deep helical lacerations. The sacrificial creature didn’t scream or cry out - and it didn’t bleed. It was just an empty husk that shed long strips of its flesh as the hellish mechanism wound its way higher and tighter. The persistent action of a succession of blades finally worked their way through bone and one of the Wight’s lower arms was severed. The ascent of the serpent only stopped when it had constricted and shredded the Wight’s entire body.
Mr. Jolly looked quite satisfied.
“Sadly, or perhaps not, my helpers lack any blood or feelings, rather diminishing the drama and entertainment value of the Serpent’s journey.
“No matter. This was one of those who failed to guard Elena and then set the fire in the forest. They can be so inattentive at times and easily misunderstand their instructions. I am rather glad you escaped that little faux pas though. It would have been such a disappointment if you had fallen.”
“You sick fucker,” growled Mickey.
Mr. Jolly ignored the jibe. He signalled for one of the dancers to take hold of the pulley ropes connected to the serpent that was wrapped around Elena’s feet.
Mickey darted forward and climbed onto the railing.
“Let her go or I’ll jump.”
Mr. Jolly roared with laughter, his audience joining in.
“Please, go ahead,” he said between laughs. “If you are able to render your body unserviceable I will be able to have what is left of you carried to the Underworld.”
Mickey glanced over his shoulder at Pester who nodded affirmation of Mr. Jolly’s claim. He wasn’t sure if he would have carried out his threat, but with Mr. Jolly approving of the threat Mickey’s ploy was defeated.
He climbed down and two of the plague doctors closed in to dissuade Mickey from trying anything else.
“Shall we proceed?” said Mr. Jolly, indicating Elena and the vicious serpent device. The pulley rope tightened and the serpent raised its ruby eyed head, which waved from side to side on the end of the rope that supported it.
“Wait,” shouted Mickey. An embryonic idea was growing. Whether it would work depended on whether rules and laws were the same on this side of the death divide and whether Mr. Jolly was bound by them.
“Where is this place you want to take me?”
Mr. Jolly grinned and made a great show of pointing downwards. The audience appreciated this.
“No,” said Mickey. “I know that much. Where is the entrance? Tell me more about it”
Mr. Jolly shrugged, as if the question was irrelevant.
“There is a cave entrance. From here everyone passes it on their way to the beach. Well, most people do.” Mr. Jolly laughed as he said this.
“So the entrance is on the way to the beach?” said Mickey, restating the fact.
Mr. Jolly nodded in affirmation.
“Does this entrance have a name?”
“It is called Finem Omnium,” Mr. Jolly replied.
“The end of all,” Mickey muttered under his breath. He allowed himself a wry smile. The small amount of Latin he had learnt as part of his law degree had finally come in useful. He thought for a moment.
“Release Elena unharmed,” Mickey said slowly. “Hand her to Pester and allow both of them to go safely on their way.”
Mr. Jolly liked that. He roared with laughter and was joined by his crowd of followers. “Why would I ever do that?”
Mickey paused. He had to get this right.
“Do what I’ve just said and I will walk with you to the Finem Omnium.” He had to shout to make himself heard – but heard he was. Mr. Jolly stopped laughing and the crowd, likewise, fell silent.
Chapter 30
“What are you doing?” hissed Pester.
Mickey turned to his guide and winked. “Let me do the talking,” he said.
“A deal. A deal. We have a deal,” cried Mr. Jolly before Mickey could think about changing his mind. Once a decision was made though there was no retracting, everyone knew that. Mickey was committed.
Mr. Jolly barked his orders and the serpent reluctantly lowered its head. Elena’s bonds were removed and her gag loosened. She stepped out of the coils of the serpent device, careful to avoid the blade edges that would easily slice through her flesh. Once free of the torture device Elena spat at Mr. Jolly.
Mr. Jolly wiped the spittle from his face and raised his hand to Elen
a.
“Jolly,” roared Mickey. “She is to be completely unharmed. That was our deal.”
Mr. Jolly snarled in anger but lowered his hand. He ordered Elena’s gag to be replaced.
“Elena,” Mickey called. “Go with Pester. Everything will be ok.”
Mickey could see the anger is Elena face. This was probably the last he would see of her and he hoped that Elena’s fury was aimed purely at her captor and not him. Mickey’s eyes filled and he had to swallow deeply a couple of times before he could speak again; this time to Pester.
“Look after Elena. Help her reach the end of her journey.”
“I can’t,” Pester replied. “I can only guide you.”
“Walk along with me then, but make sure Elena comes with you.”
Pester moved away. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”
“So do I,” Mickey replied.
If I’ve got this wrong, he thought, I am so fucked.
As Pester took the escalator to the ground floor and Elena climbed down the series of ladders, Mickey and Mr. Jolly stood staring at one another, neither willing to break their stare.
Mr. Jolly’s smile broadened. “Shall we go?”
“I’ll meet you downstairs,” Mickey replied through gritted teeth.
Mickey was already on the ground floor when Elena climbed off final ladder. She moved towards Mickey.
“No contact,” snapped Mr. Jolly.
“You came for me again,” Elena said to Mickey.
“Yes,” Mickey replied, wishing that he could say more. He realised that it could work against him if he did.
Elena thought that the regret she detected in his voice was aimed at her. The anger that had begun to wane flared up again. She opened her mouth to say something but Pester took her arm.
“Come on Lassie,” he said. “Let’s go.”
Mickey turned away; his nerve was beginning to fail. There was so much he had wanted to say to Elena and he wanted them to part on better terms than this. He only took a small amount of comfort in the fact that Elena would get to complete her journey. Mickey began to limp towards the exit.