No, a voice within her said. Berries. We were looking for berries. Berries…That’s why Pearl had gone with Mrs. Graham and the others into the forest. But they had gone too far…
“Pearl!”
Pearl opened her eyes after what felt like a prolonged blink, and scanned her surroundings. The forest, existing as vast singular entity like an ocean, threatened to consume all intruders. In New Bethlehem, it always seemed ready to wash over their homes and erase all trace of the colony. This far from the town, it felt like Pearl and her small group had drawn the forest’s full attention. The trees, armored in gray bark, towered over them and reached out with limbs coated with thick layers of dark green leaves. Each was an exact replica of some primordial monolithic tree, though distinct by the scars the demons had left behind.
The foliage’s hungering shade marked the hunting grounds of the demons, which had preyed on the creatures of the woods long enough to drive them to near oblivion. The overlooked smaller animals survived as timid beasts, hiding whenever they heard or saw something larger than a deer moving through the trees. The natural predators, wolves, wildcats, and bears, had long since left the area around the town, so one could walk through the forest during the day without fear of running into one.
Not that anyone ever felt safe in the forest, regardless of the time of day, and these thoughts didn’t ease Pearl’s mind as she realized how far the village they had gone. Something didn’t feel right, an odd sort of memory permeating her thoughts. Had she been here before? Her hand squeezed the hilt of her sword, but once conscious of this, she let go, though her hand continued to hover over it. Stay calm, she thought to herself. Don’t show that you’re nervous. Stay calm for them.
“Is everything alright, dear?” Mrs. Graham asked. A soft woman, every part of her body cushioned by flesh, Abigail Graham retained some of the beauty the loss of her husband had drained from her. She never spoke ill of Pearl and would greet her with a smile when they crossed paths in town. Her own misery had taught her to see the misery in others, and she had no reason to add to their pain. It only made sense that Pearl enjoyed the woman’s company.
“Yes, Mrs. Graham. Just thinking about how deep in the forest we are,” Pearl reassured, her voice steady while her hands shook. But the others could sense her anxieties.
“Coward. I should be the leader,” Duncan mumbled loud enough for everyone to hear. He swung his sword, a long, wide blade he had chosen based on the impractical notion that bigger equaled better and without insight of his own physical limits, at a low branch without regard for those around him. Pat the Rat had distanced himself from Duncan a while ago after one of Duncan’s backswings missed him by an inch, but stood close enough to provide verbal support.
“You should.” Pat glared at Pearl with his beady eyes. The other boy and girl remained silent at the edge of the group, trying hard to make the others forget them.
“Crowley put me in charge because you two are idiots,” Pearl reminded them without looking back. She turned towards Mrs. Graham. “Why do we have to go this deep into the forest for berries?”
Mrs. Graham chuckled. “When you were younger, you children ate all of the good berries near town. All that grows on those bushes now are tiny, bitter berries, so I have to travel far from town to find any good ones.”
Mrs. Graham hadn’t picked a single berry so far and they continued going deeper into the forest. Pearl kept an eye on the sunlight coming through the leaves. Close to midday, it should have brought her comfort, but didn’t. Only her sword comforted her, but the others would notice if she kept fidgeting with it. Duncan and Pat needed little to undermine their assignment, so she refused to give them a reason. Still, she couldn’t move her hand far from her blade. Something out of sight watched them, moving beyond her field of vision every time she turned her head.
For the past few months, people in the town had been walking off into the woods, never to be seen again. Prior to disappearing, each of the missing individuals had mentioned hearing whispers in a strange language, and complained of sudden head pains and occasional memory loss. Despite the concern this had stirred in the townsfolk, nothing was done about it, until the number of disappearances jumped to twelve people gone in as many days.
In order to keep control of the situation, the Lamplighters had announced a town-wide lockdown and curfew. No one could leave the town without permission from the Lamplighter council. Even then, a Lamplighter escort had to accompany them. This morning, when the Lamplighters gathered in the town square for their assignment, Michael Crowley had assigned Pearl to Mrs. Graham. ”Despite what my brother and the rest of them might think, you have the potential to be a great Lamplighter. But first you need to learn how to lead.” He had stolen a glance at Duncan and Pat, and added, “And no lesson should be without its challenges.”
“Stupid chore,” Duncan complained as he waddled to keep pace behind Pearl. No doubt“Of course they’d make you the leader, witch-bitch.”
“Heh ‘witch-bitch,’” Pat chuckled, ever looking to remain on Duncan’s good side. On the cusp of manhood, his voice squeaked and body oil gave his face a dirty sheen. Both them smelled, neither having bathed in weeks.
“Shut up, Duncan.” Pearl rolled her eyes at his new name for her. Not only did it insult her, it rhymed too, meaning Duncan and Pat would use it for at least the next week or so. Unless they came up with a new, even wittier one, which Pearl doubted since it had taken them years to discover that ‘witch’ and ‘bitch’ rhymed. Years spent torturing Pearl with other cruel names and bullying away any child Pearl tried to befriend. It had hurt Pearl when she was younger, but it had lost its sting with time. That hadn’t dissuaded Duncan the Glutton and Pat the Rat, nor had Pearl ceased using the insulting titles she had given them.
She knew Crowley had assigned her this specific task for a reason. Frederick had united those who distrusted Pearl into a cult of hate and threatened to take retribution into their own hands. Crowley, and no doubt her father, probably wanted to get Pearl as far from the town as possible until they could pacify Frederick and his followers. Though knowing Frederick, his hate would persist beyond all others.
Mrs. Graham ignored several bushes dotted with berries and they journeyed deeper into the woods than any before them, at least in Pearl’s mind. While she relished the excitement of an adventure, a palpable dread darkened the world. The leaves above suffocated the sunlight and an ominous dim settled around them. The scars on the tree grew more abundant, some low to the ground, some marking the highest branches, all left by fang and claw. Fallen trees, their roots still clutching dirt, marked the paths of the largest demons. For those who had only heard the demons and never seen them, here laid the proof of their existence. Holding her sword failed to comfort her now, so Pearl drew it, ready to fight.
“Ooo,” Duncan jeered with a wave of his chubby fingers. “Look at the scaredy-cat. What’s the matter, witch-bitch? Afraid something might get you while the sun is out? Like a rabbit?” This gave Pat a good laugh, a squeaking hiccup-like sound.
“That’s it,” Pearl growled to herself. She turned around and pointed her sword at Duncan. He stumbled backwards, his size and weight making his retreat awkward. “All you do is moan and complain. The forest is filled with all…kinds of dangerous…things…” She trailed off as she counted heads. Duncan, Pat, Mrs. Graham. “Where are the other two?”
Duncan and Pat looked around, just noticing the absence of their comrades. Wordless since leaving town, they could have disappeared at any time. Movement out of the corner of her eye made Pearl jump, as Mrs. Graham scratched her head. Pearl shook with a rush of energy and took breathes to calm herself. “Mrs. Graham, did you see where our friends went?”
Mrs. Graham didn’t respond, preoccupied with her own thoughts and whispering to herself. Pearl opened her mouth to ask again when Mrs. Graham responded, “Not much further. We’ll be home soon. Very soon.”
Pearl saw her fears reflected on Duncan and Pat’s fa
ces. She glanced down at her sword and, with a nod, instructed the other two to draw their swords. Duncan dripped with anxious sweat and Pat’s trembling hands made his sword waver like a bough in the wind. They looked to Pearl for guidance. For now, Pearl kept an eye on Mrs. Graham, who walked away. They followed her, a few paces behind, until she stopped in the middle of a clearing.
A storm-like force had thrown trees around and snapped them in two like twigs. Among the usual tears and scratches left by demons, Pearl noticed unusual cleaner, blade-like cuts in the trees, some so clean, they had left the exposed wood as smooth as polished wood. A fight had taken place here, but who would fight the demons this far into the woods?
“Ah, these berries will do nicely,” Mrs. Graham announced, pushing aside a large stick to kneel next to a bush. Pearl studied her for a few seconds, then gestured for Duncan and Pat to keep an eye on her while Pearl scouted around the clearing. The trees felled by clean cuts had done so with a single blow each, lacking any sign of hacking. While woodchips and dust littered the soil around the trees cut down by demons, she found none by the other fallen trees. Sap still seeped from every cut. Whatever happened here had happened last night, when the demons hunted the forest, or maybe even an hour ago. Pearl shuttered at the thought and scanned the trees around her for any threats.
“Everyone, we’re heading back to town.” Pearl felt something staring at her to her right, and turned to find her missing comrades standing before. “There you are. We’re going back to—“
“The Grey King rises,” the two droned in unison. Their vacant gaze reached deep into Pearl’s being. She raised her sword at them, or whoever stood there. They took no notice of the blade. “The Grey King rises.”
This time, Pearl heard two more voices join in. Duncan and Pat stared at Pearl, the same emptiness in their eyes. She swung her sword towards them and stepped back to keep an eye on all four of them. They remained still, except for their soulless eyes, which followed her. She needed to get Mrs. Graham away from them and back to town. One of the other Lamplighters would know what to do, and if not, Father Alexander would. She saw movement to her left, but before she could react, something heavy hit her in the back of the head. The blow sounded like a knock on a thick, wooden door. The world spun as Pearl fell to the ground and, before the world went dark, Pearl saw Mrs. Graham holding a large, club-like branch.
***
Nearby voices woke Pearl up, and she willed her shut eyelids apart. Her blurred vision failed to discern her location, but the rustling of leaves above and the soft grass beneath her meant welcomed her back to the forest. Night had fallen. Instincts guided her hand towards her sword, but fear chilled her when she discovered it missing. She reached out to search for it, but as soon as she moved, her head spun in two different directions inside and out. The welt on the back of her head throbbed with every heartbeat and weighed like a second head. Jumbled thoughts coalesced as her vision cleared, and she discovered her blade was nowhere nearby.
“I awaited your arrival for hours, sire.” Pearl froze, her hands still groping the ground for her misplaced sword. Mrs. Graham’s voice came from behind her, but she spoke to someone else, hidden behind a tree or the tree itself. Pearl’s fellow Lamplighters knelt in reverence behind Mrs. Graham. “I would have waited days. And look, I’ve brought acolytes, converts to your will.”
“Mrs…Mrs.Graham?” The words tumbled out of her mouth as her head exploded with pain. Worms grew inside her skull and chewed their way out. Her ears ached, as if suffering some deafening roar, but Pearl heard nothing, not even her own screaming. She roll around on the ground, smacking her head against the earth to gain even a temporary reprieve from the agony.
Then, in the silence, she heard it. A voice whispering in her ears-no, in her head-in a language she had never heard before, words not of this world. Quiet at first, the whispering grew into a roar, like the winds of a faraway storm lumbering closer. It tried to tell her something, but she couldn’t understand. Not as though she could at the moment, her body spasming in pain. She flailed around helpless, like a fish on land. Someone spoke nearby, but Pearl’s screams, now audible, drowned it out. The tears in Pearl’s eyes smeared Mrs. Graham and the four Lamplighters, but the figure they knelt before appeared pristine in Pearl’s vision.
“Hhhaaalllppp mmmeeeeee,” Pearl grunted through gritted teeth. Only the figure looked at her, as if noticing her for the first time. He, or she, dressed in fine, black clothing and had a bald, pale head somewhat hidden among the leaves of the trees around it, standing twice as tall as Pearl. As the figure stared at Pearl, the air around it rippled like water and the ripples grew wider as they drew closer. They swallowed Pearl whole, and it felt like the ground beneath her had punched her whole body, throwing her into a tree.
She fell to the ground and laid as still as she could while trying to catch the breath knocked out of her lungs. The whispering had stopped, but the pain had not. She commanded her body to get up and fight, but it wouldn’t move. She could only watch as the tall figure’s arms stretched out and wrapped around Mrs. Graham. She accepted its embrace with a calm and quiet stillness. The others didn’t reacting, four kneeling statues awaiting the experience Mrs. Graham underwent.
A growling filled the air. The figure stopped, retracted its arms, and looked at the trees to Pearl’s right, where the growl rumbled in the back of a beast’s throat. Mrs. Graham dropped to the ground and laid like a discarded doll. Branches and sticks snapped as the growling grew closer, each snap causing Pearl’s heart to skip a beat. Even if she could move her body, she wouldn’t have. Better to play dead than to draw the attention of whatever new threat had entered the clearing on light feet, which she felt with her head pressed against the ground.
She couldn’t see it, but heard it sniff the air above her head. It thought little of her, and approached the tall figure, its paw landing inches away from her face as it walked over her. The wolf shaped demon, three times larger than any wolf, stood on its hind legs. Its black flesh and fur allowed it to blend in with the darkness of the forest. Its bulky forelegs, now serving as arms, ended in finger-like toes with knife-like claws. Mrs. Graham and the others snuck away into the trees as the demon confronted the tall figure.
Pearl’s attention pulled towards the figure, as though a small voice told her to look at it, but she kept her eyes on the tree Mrs. Graham had ducked behind. If Pearl could get to her, they could run back to the town. Dangerous without a sword, but she had run out of options. An eerie silence fell upon the clearing as the wind died, and the demon and the figure in black studied each other, waiting for the other to make a move.
A gust of wind howled into the clearing and the wolf-demon arched its head back, joining its voice with the wind. It pounced at the figure and the two tumbled out of sight. Pearl, body and mind still aching, brought herself to her knees and then, with a growl, to her feet. She swayed, her legs weak and her balance lost, but studied herself enough to walk towards Mrs. Graham. A dim glimmer of moonlight on the ground caught her eye, and she allowed herself a quiet cheer when she found her sword. A rush of strength and confidence filled her body as she wrapped her fingers around the hilt. She could do this. She could save Mrs. Graham and the others.
“Mrs. Graham,” Pearl called out as she approached the tree the woman hid behind. But when she looked around the trunk, she found no one. She checked around the other trees, but again, no one there. “Mrs. Graham? Duncan? Pat? Anyone?”
A feral, yet still human battle cry answered her. Pearl spun around and raised her sword to face a charging Mrs. Graham. Rage twisted the older woman’s face as she swung a tree branch too large for her to hold. Pearl ducked and spun behind Mrs. Graham, not wanting to hurt the woman. The other four formed a semicircle around her, their swords drawn. Pearl positioned herself against a tree, so nothing could attack her from behind. Her fellow Lamplighters, slow to follow her, could take their time, since she had nowhere to go.
“What the hell is w
rong with you?” Pearl barked. No one answered. They waiting for Mrs. Graham to take her place at the head of the group.
“You won’t stop us from being with him,” Mrs. Graham snarled, her glare pushing against the center of Pearl’s chest. “He has risen to save us. We are destined to become him. Only the Grey King can save us! And you won’t stop us!”
Weapons raised and ready to strike, the five of them rushed Pearl together. She readied herself as best as she could, ignoring the fact she had never fought this many opponents at once. Duncan and Pat’s eyes lacked their usual glint of hubris and the other two Lamplighters showed none of the fear typical of those forced to spar the ‘witch-spawn.’ Pearl parried a blow from her right and twirled around the tree behind her, putting it between them and her.
Duncan chased after her first, leading the way with a slash at her head. Of all times to have it, he had gotten the strength to wield his heavy sword and Pearl just managed to duck under it. The blade buried itself deep into the tree and Duncan struggled to free it, paying no attention to Pearl and leaving himself vulnerable. Despite her disdain, Pearl didn’t want to kill him, but took some pleasure in kicking him as hard as she could in his stomach. The blow knocked him off his feet and his girth brought him down hard on his back.
Pat and the girl came from either side of the tree. Pearl stepped back to avoid an overhead slash from Pat and raised her sword to block another one from the girl behind her. Pearl spun around and whipped her fist into the side of the girl’s face, stunning her. Pat pulled his sword back for a thrust, so Peal stepped forward and rammed her hilt into Pat’s ribs. Pearl couldn’t help but smile when Pat’s body gave a soft crack. She pulled him closer and headbutted him away. The other girl recovered from the blow to the face and circled around Pearl, as the last boy approached Pearl from the side.
The Lamplighter (Lamplighter Saga Book 0) Page 12