“I’m not going to read this,” said Troy. “I’m just not.”
“Fair enough,” said Alix. “Neither would I, if I felt the same way.”
“Alix, shut up, will you? I don’t think of Romilly that way.”
“Can I just say one thing?” said Alix. “Romilly wouldn’t have let you go and face the army of Diabhal on your own, and before that, she wouldn’t have tried to bash your head in with a candlestick.”
In the void, you could hear a pin drop. The next sound to emanate in the void was the sound of Troy punching Alix hard in the face.
Alix crumpled to the floor, but was a big guy himself, and was only dazed, not badly hurt. Troy stood over him imposingly.
“You don’t speak ill of Toril, alright? I’m warning you. She saved me. Saved us. It was too late by the time you got inside the wood-cabin. Toril was protecting us. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Alix slowly got to his feet, and wiped his mouth where Troy had drawn blood.
“She didn’t try and save me, man, and that thing you are messing with, is not Toril, and you know it.”
“It’s the closest thing I got to her. Would you take even that smallest bit of happiness away from me?”
“That thing is a demon. It’s not Toril. You may not want to accept it Troy, but Toril is dead. Or maybe humping dead chicks is what you’re into now.”
Troy went to punch Alix once more, but Alix managed to stop the blow by encircling Troy’s fist with his hand. He had never seen Troy act like this before.
Walking away from Alix, all he could hear Troy saying was eff you, man, and raised his middle finger for good measure.
That was the last time Alix saw Troy. Any chance of them working together to leave the void was gone.
Alix was on the point of accepting he was never getting out of the void. The whole place smothered you in darkness, and he began to sink into the deepest of despair. It was at that moment, that one of the Zeryth girls spoke to him.
“We have been talking,” she said. “The others, and I. We think there is a way we can help each other.”
Alix looked up. The girl looked very normal, not at all like the hellish creatures they turned into when the left the void to do Diabhal’s work. She could not have been more than fourteen. She had sleeked blonde hair, which bobbed on her shoulders as she stood over Alex. Her white blouse…well, it looked for all the world like a death shroud, still, these were just details to Alix.
“You are killers,” said Alix. “There’s nothing you can do to help me, except kill me before madness takes me.”
“We are only killers on the outside.”
“Why do you look so normal here then?”
“Because He wants us to feel the pleasure now, so we know the pain, later. He shows us our unspoiled looks here, so we can only know sorrow when we see ourselves on the outside. We also feel an uncontrollable rage, and an urge to kill. We have no choice over what we do. He commands us. Controls us.”
Alix knew of the legend of Diabhal, but it was not something decent folk spoke of. In addition, he hadn’t really believed in the legend, thinking it was the preserve of some old wives tale, or a scare story parents told their children. Besides, Gorswood had its unfair share of demons, and a good portion of them were humans that committed monstrous deeds.
“We have no wish to kill you, but maybe we can help you.”
“Help me?” scoffed Alix. “The only way you can help me, is get me out of here.”
“There is a way. We know how.”
“Don’t trick me,” said Alix, his eyes narrowing. “If there was a way, you’d have gone already.”
“We explained that to you,” said the blonde Zeryth, “He controls us. If we were to get to the other side, we would become, what we do not wish to be, only what He wishes. But you arrived here, unspoiled.”
Alix still felt the burn mark on his back. Standing up slowly, he took off his shirt, and turned around. He knew he couldn't see it, but he could feel the Mark. The Mark of the one whom owned the Mirror.
“Can you see it?” he said. “Still think I am unspoiled?”
The Zeryth backed off. “You have been marked!”
Wow, thought Alix, sarcastically. This girl must be the Sherlock of the Zeryths.
“You must have seen the Mirror then. You must know who wields it. You must know the one who would destroy us.”
Alix turned around and put his tee shirt back on. He understood what the Zerythra were going through, and were still going through. He too had been controlled by Diabhal, albeit via Don Curie. He never wanted the Mirror, and as he couldn’t hold it anyway, Curie had dramatically miscalculated. Or maybe he thought he would be killed trying to take the Mirror in any case.
“I may hate everything you represent,” said Alix, “but I think we have an understanding. I’ll help you get out of here.”
“No,” said the Zeryth, “we cannot leave. At the same time, we have no wish to be fodder for the demon you know as Dana.”
“What do you want then?”
“You must make your peace with the one who gave you that Mark. There are very few who live after being branded in that way. She must have not meant to harm you. She has some level of care for you.”
“What? Romilly?”
Loud gasps filled the void.
“You spoke her name,” said the Zeryth. Something about the way the Zeryth spoke made Alix feel very uncomfortable.
“Yes I did,” said Alix, “but that doesn’t matter. She doesn’t concern you.”
“You are protecting her,” said the Zeryth. “You have feelings for her.”
“No,” said Alix indignantly. “But my other friend kind of does. He isn’t himself these days.”
“He is in league with the demon, that Dana creature,” said the Zeryth.
“Well, he’ll be back with her soon enough, gloating,” said Alix. “He tends to do that, where I’m concerned.”
The Zeryth shook her head. “He is no longer in the void. He has gone. The Dana creature made it so.”
“What?” said Alix, more than surprised at the turn of events. “How could he leave? He told me he was injured by one of you.”
“He was….fortunate to transfer here via the Mirror. We suspect his loved ones made it so. The transfer cleansed him. He could never become one of us. We could kill him, on the other side, but here, he could not die, not unless He wished it, or the Dana creature was to do to him, what she does to us.”
“I don’t understand. Why has she released him?”
“Know you of her legend?”
“I don’t know much,” said Alix. “Hearsay, mostly. She died in bad circumstances.”
“She was chosen to carry out His work. To her credit, she rebelled, but He took a final, terrible revenge on her. With her life ebbing away, he removed her stomach physically, and her soul, spiritually. He split elements of her soul into thirteen parts. The elements that contain her soul exist on the other side. Were they to be destroyed, she would be destroyed too.”
“I’m beginning to see the picture now. So you want me to find these elements, and what…destroy them?”
“That is what we want.”
“She has a new lover boy, in case you forgot. He isn’t going to let me harm her. She might not be pretending to be his former girlfriend anymore, but he’s not pulling away from her either. I can’t help you.”
“She has already set him on a new path. He will remember nothing of his time in the void.” The Zeryth seemed most serious about all this. She explained how Dana needs a victim of her choice to make thirteen kills in her name, then she believes, through her foul craft, that she can return to the life she had once before. The life she had before she encountered the Mirror. The Zeryth explained that Dana would do anything to get back to that life if she could.
“What must I do?” asked Alix.
“You must stop her at all costs.”
“You’re suggesting I go after
her?”
“Not suggesting. Your options seem rather thin.”
Alix smiled. He felt the Zeryth was developing a sense of humour.
“Alright, I’ll do it. How do I find these elements?”
“That is not our problem,” said the Zeryth.
“So you can get me out of here, but how do you know I’ll keep my end of the bargain?”
The Zeryth, who in the void, had legs she could walk on, strolled up to Alix and looked up to him, before plunging her hand deep into his chest. He screamed in pain and the Zeryth withdrew her arm almost as quick as it violently entered Alix’s chest.
Alix breathed heavily before calming down.
“You will not doublecross us now,” said the Zeryth. “Here, in our reduced state, we still retain some powers.”
It was the last thing she said, as her body melted violently before his eyes.
“What happened to her?”
Another of the Zerythra came up to him. “She sacrificed herself for us. Do not fail in your task. Now, we will show you the way out of the void.”
The void itself could be two metres in any direction, or it could be a vast expanse, the like of which would be impossible to map. Anyway, the Zeryth ordered Alix to stop walking, and raising her hand, a small gap appeared in the darkness. She explained to Alix that when he approached the gap, that he would be sucked through to the other side.
He wasn’t sure he believed it, but Troy was definitely gone. He had to believe that Dana had helped him leave. Or maybe the Zerythra had. Maybe it wasn’t a portal to the other side at all. Maybe it was nothing more than a gateway to death.
Alix looked over his shoulder, only to see maybe a hundred of the Zerytha. Something was for certain; their numbers were dwindling, and each time Dana fed on them, she became stronger. It didn’t matter what she had been before, it only mattered what she had become, now. Alix did not want to think any more about it. The Zerythra had decided they had had enough too.
Alix may have paused too long. As the void opened, a circle of flame burned so viciously that Alix thought his skin was going to burn right off.
Even if Alix wanted to back off, he could not. The group of Zerythra shoved him hard, and he fell head-first into the flames.
(ii)
Crescent Moon
Distant Voices
It’s funny what you experience as you die. It’s not exactly the case that your life flashes before your eyes, more like fragments of images invading your mind. I hoped that they would at least be good memories. They were my only comfort as I lay at the bottom of the pit, waiting for my life to finally end.
I wanted to experience a happy thought, a good thought. Before I entered this pit of horrors, I was experiencing a good thing in my life. A girl. A boy. My hand in Troy’s hand. A girl and a boy, walking through Gorswood Forest, and we had never really spoken the truth of what we meant to each other.
No, let’s not poison that good feeling. I had been told in kung fu class that pain was a ‘state of mind’, and that ‘pain would stop naturally of its own accord.’ Maybe that was true, though I didn’t believe it back then.
I cannot feel pain anymore. That is not to say I am not in discomfort. I really am. When I fell, I supposed I broke more than just my ribs. I could barely open my eyes, and my mouth was so, so dry.
No. There is no flash before my eyes. I tried to think of good things. My parents, when we would spend time at Rosewinter when I was much younger. My Nan, telling me stories that would scare me but at the same time, excite me. Beth, when we would share laughs and I finally felt I had developed a true, meaningful friendship.
Then I would pass in and out of consciousness. During these periods of being awake, I felt I was moving. There was some commotion. I likened it to being in an elevator that was ascending too fast for my liking.
I realised that I actually was ascending, and there was someone there. I think I passed into unconsciousness again, and I could hear a familiar voice.
It was Troy.
Maybe he had returned after all, though I fear he is too late. I must have broken every bone in my body when I fell off the rock face. At least I do not hear the snap of that girl’s neck, or see her morph into a Zeryth. Another comfort is that I do not hear the mocking cackle of Don Curie.
Whatever happens now, I’m fine with it.
Another sensation. I can feel something on my chest. It hurts quite a lot, like I am being crushed or something. Then, something wet. I’m being…I’m not sure….but it feels like some kind of rough kiss. Air is filling my mouth. There’s a roughness to the sensation. My chest feels like it is getting crushed again, then the rough kiss starts again, although I am unable to respond, even if I wanted to.
“Damn it Rom, come on. Please. Please. Don’t give up.”
That familiar voice again. A male voice, and he called me Rom.
“Tr-oyyyyyy,” I murmured.
I could hear all sorts of commotion. I still couldn’t really open my eyes, but at least I was with Troy. Whatever else I was to go through, if I had a familiar voice with me, and I don’t mean The Demon, I knew that I could cope.
His rough hands slapped my face to bring me out of it. I knew that he would do all he could to save me from that pit of despair. I could not know how long I was down there, how long Troy was gone, or really….how he got me out of the pit.
“Rom, listen to me. Don’t try and talk, okay? You’re badly hurt. Try not to move.”
Dear me. I think I had asked all I could of my body, so Troy didn’t have to worry there. I did, however, have so many questions for him.
I think the pain, though I couldn’t say for certain that I could feel it, made my body shut down again. In the haze, I could hear Troy talking to someone. Or maybe he was talking out loud to comfort himself.
“Don’t let her die, please!”
It was so strange to me, there was so much anguish in his voice. That was not something I was used to hearing.
It was the last thing I remembered.
***
It turned out that I had been rescued from the pit by Troy, and he had managed to call an ambulance for me. He had stayed with me en route to the hospital, whilst the medics did their various tests. My heart-rate was abnormally high, and my blood pressure was off the scale.
I was functioning for two, after all, and I knew I wasn’t pregnant. I guess there would be some things, with all the medical equipment at their disposal, that they would not be able to explain.
Troy held my hand tightly along our journey to Gorswood Hospital, and I wished I could squeeze his hand back. He seemed beside himself with worry. This only increased with the doctor’s inference that they may have to operate due to the extent of injuries sustained.
Troy waited in the hospital for almost an hour, when the doctor returned.
“What’s your relationship with this girl?”
“I’m….I’m her friend,” said Troy, almost apologetically.
“Well, your friend has sustained some terrible injuries, but we feel confident she’s going to be alright.”
Troy was overcome with so much emotion that he didn’t really take in the rest of what the doctor was saying. Apparently, I had broken four ribs, bruised my tailbone, and suffered a hairline fracture on my jaw. Not only that, but I had broken my right wrist, which took the brunt of the fall, said the doctor.
“She’s also got lacerations pretty much all over her body, and she seems to have lost the two smallest fingers on her left hand. It’s amazing she hasn’t sustained more serious injuries.”
“She does kung fu,” informed Troy, “at least, she used to do it. It’s been a while since I seen her.”
Since before the Mirror of Souls came into my life. A gift, a curse… back then, that’s how the conversation had gone with my Nan.
“Well, I suppose martial arts training can be helpful,” replied the doctor with more than a hint of sarcasm, as if he had seen his share of martial arts related injur
ies over the years. “There are some questions though I have to ask you. As her friend.”
Troy knew what was coming. To anyone else, my arms would look like they had been stuck in a gas oven for twenty minutes. There is no way anyone could take that sort of pain. The markings, on closer inspection, would probe more questions in the doctor’s mind, than reveal answers.
“When the ambulance arrived, your friend was in a bad way as you know. What troubles me, Mr Jackson, are the marks on her arms. I’m a doctor, not a heroin addict, yet those markings are not consistent with substance abuse. It is like those arms have been branded, from the inside, somehow. What do you know about that?”
Dark Winter: Trilogy Page 45