by Jenna Grey
“But, I’m not very happy about this,” he said.
Polly just gave him an ‘I’ll be all right’ smile and held out her hand.
She had expected something to happen the instant her hand touched it, but there was nothing, just the feel of bone and metal under her fingers, cold, but lifeless.
She reeled backwards, giving a muffled scream of fear and pain as she felt a great fist hammering into her, smashing into her face. No, it wasn’t a fist, it was an axe, or part of an axe. The side of her face went numb, and she couldn’t see from her left eye. She put her hand up and felt blood on her cheek; she wiped it away, smearing it across her broken face. Her cheekbone was smashed, and the pain was terrible. She pulled her hand away and saw that it was clean, blood-free, but her cheek still felt as if it were on fire, her jaw numb.
“Allfather give me strength,” she whispered, blood bubbling in her mouth. She’d bitten her tongue. Someone tried to take the dagger from her hand, but she clung onto it. She watched the scene that was unfolding before her, trying to ignore the searing pain that tore into the left side of her face. She could see sights and sounds around her that were not the here and now, just as before, but this time it seemed so much more intense, so much more all-encompassing. She groped for the handle of the car door, not able to see it, not able to see any of the here and now any more. Her hand closed around it, and the door opened. She got out of the car, standing a little shakily; Finn supported her, her legs struggling to take her weight.
“There was a battle, not here, but not too far away. I can see open-sided tents with canopies, and it’s raining hard. Men are wading through mud, fighting, killing. I’m injured, my face broken by a blow from the side of an axe, but I can push it away, it’s just pain. Pain is good; it drives me on. I have to fight, have to fight. I can feel the blood pounding through my temples, through my veins like fire – everything around me is just madness: so many screams and the clash of metal against wood, metal against metal. I’m tripping over bodies, deep in mud, blood, guts, friend and foe. Hallfrid Iricsson is here, curse his bones – betrayer, son murderer. I’m trying to fight my way through to him, but I can’t reach him. We’re winning, driving the filth into the earth. His men are turning to flee, and he’s running for his life.
“Fucking coward!” Polly screamed. She felt something snatched from her hand, and she dropped, hard.
“Was that really worth it?” she heard Finn say through the haze that filled her head with pink mist.
“Every bit of information we find out about our friend Sigurd is vital. We have no idea what we’re dealing with here, and we have to know,” Bert insisted.
“Yes, but you’re not the one that’s suffering to get it,” Finn sniped. “I don’t want Polly going through any more of this.”
“I’m all right,” Polly said, sitting up and trying to focus her eyes. Her cheek hurt like hell. She felt as if she’d been kicked in the face by a mule.
“Shit, your cheek’s swollen,” Finn said, giving Bert an accusatory glare. Polly put her hand up to feel her cheek, and it was tender, the flesh puffy.
“It’s not so bad,” she said. “It will go down.” Finn went to the four-by-four and got out a flask, tipping some water onto a cloth and holding it to her cheek.
“I’m sorry, Polly, I truly am. Finn’s right, I should never have put you through this. Forgive me. We’ll manage somehow.”
Polly waved her hand to shush him.
“It’s okay, really. I’ve found out things you could never have found out any other way. I know what happened. This man Hallfrid Iricsson killed Sigurd’s eldest son, Bragi, had him murdered while he slept because he thought that Bragi had been with his wife. He hadn’t; it was a lie put about by one of Sigurd’s enemies to start a feud between the two families. It worked. Sigurd and Hallfrid swore eternal enmity and each vowed to kill the other. Sigurd was murdered by someone who was once his friend.”
“I still can’t see how that helps us find his burial site,” Finn said, his voice testy.
“Maybe not, but Sigurd and his men followed Hallfrid northwards. I know which way to go,” Polly said.
It was getting dark now, so they decided to camp for the night. Bram, a hardened explorer, had the tents up in two minutes flat. They were the dome-shaped ones that popped out by themselves if you pressed in the right place and were quite cosy inside, with a fitted groundsheet to keep out creepy crawlies. Bert was going to sleep in the Range Rover, his back not really up to a night on the rocky ground. Bram had a two-person tent all to himself, but then he filled most of it, anyway. Polly and Finn had the other.
“This isn’t so bad,” Polly said, laying out one of the sleeping bags for them to sleep on and the other over the top as a cover.
“How’s your cheek?”
Polly touched it tentatively, and it still hurt a little, but not so bad now. It just felt as if she’d had a root canal. What with that, her grazed knuckles and her sore throat from Winchard’s assault, she was starting to feel a bit like a punching bag.
“Better. I didn’t mind going... wherever it was I went. We really need to stop my uncle, and we can’t hold back; whatever it takes, we have to see this through.”
Finn kissed her on the nose.
“I think you’re awesome,” he said, as they snuggled down together. It was quite cosy, if a little hard on the back.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Finn asked for the fifth time, nuzzling her.
“I’m fine, honestly. I’m getting used to it now. Sigurd has gone – well, just about, just a lingering trace that is barely there. I do know which way we need to go, though. We should get there tomorrow.”
Finn took her hand and pulled her to him, placing the gentlest of kisses on her lips.
“I really want you,” he whispered. “If we’re very quiet about it, Bram and Bert will never know.” He grinned and nipped her nose.
“It’s going to be a bit tough on one bit or other of my body,” she said, giggling. “But—” Finn silenced her with another kiss, and it became deeper, Finn’s hand slipping down to her waist, kneading gently.
Then the light was gone, and they were plunged into absolute darkness.
For a moment Polly thought she’d gone blind – she could see nothing at all, no matter how hard she tried. It was the total absence of light, Stygian darkness so profound that it made her eyes hurt.
“What’s happening?” she asked. Polly heard Bert calling to them, his voice strained, afraid.
She heard something click – two clicks – and reached out to feel the torch in Finn’s hand.
“It’s not working, the batteries are dead, or some force is stopping us from seeing the light. Stay here and don’t move,” he said, then obviously realised that wasn’t a great idea. “No, you better come as well. Stay close,” Finn said, grabbing her hand and pulling her towards the tent opening. Polly fell against the tent flap, flailing against it and fumbling her way through into the black velvet beyond. There was no moon, no stars, nothing. It was as if the whole universe had suddenly disappeared.
“Say something so I can find you, Finn,” Bert called. “I’m going to turn on the Rover’s headlights.” Polly could hear a few expletives as Bert crawled across to the front seat of the vehicle, then, “Nothing, they’re dead. All of you move towards my voice. Bram, are you okay?”
“Aye, okay, but fuck knows where I am,” Bram said from somewhere to the left of them. He gave another ‘fuck’, as he obviously tripped over something and Polly thought that he must have fallen over.
“All of you get to the car and get inside,” Bert ordered. “They’ll be more protection in here from whatever this is.”
Polly was still clutching Finn’s arm, clinging on in pure, undiluted terror. Then a wave of terrible nausea swept over her, cramping her stomach and sending the dark world spinning around her.
“Oh God,” Polly said, sinking to her knees. “I can feel something here with us, something terrible. W
hat in God’s name is it?”
She let Finn take her weight, not relying on her own strength.
“I don’t think God has much to do with it,” Finn replied, moving her along towards the sound of Bert’s voice, almost carrying her.
Then Bram screamed, a terrible scream that turned Polly’s blood to ice; it went on and on for long seconds and then stopped suddenly as if someone had cut his voice with a pair of scissors. Finn kept her moving, dragging Polly forwards, her knees grazing over the rough ground.
“We’ve got to try and help him,” Polly said, knowing as the words left her lips that it was impossible.
“There’s nothing we can do for him, we can’t help,” Finn said, his voice broken by a sob. “We could never find him, and there is something out there, we can’t risk it.”
Polly stumbled face first into the side of the Range Rover, and Finn struggled with the door, helping her up and pushing her inside. He climbed up after her, slamming the door shut behind him.
“I think that Bram’s dead,” Finn said, although it was quite unnecessary, Bert must have heard his scream.
“I know,” Bert said. “Give me your hand, Finn, we need to do something, or we’re going to be next.” Finn’s hand left hers, and she knew what they were planning to do. She reached out too, and found their joined hands, laying hers over them.
“Take mine, too, take some of my power if you can.”
She felt Finn’s fingers lace into hers, reassuring and comforting. Her hand suddenly felt hot, almost burning and the sensation began to run up her arms, tingling over her skin and too hot to be comfortable. She had no idea what was happening, but was trusting in Bert and Finn to keep her safe. She didn’t care much at that point, she just wanted to get out of this terrible, all-consuming darkness, and whatever was lurking inside it. The heat in her hands and arms was almost too painful to bear now, spreading through her entire body and making her feel as if her whole being was on fire. She bit her lip, struggling not to cry out; the pain was searing through her, and she thought that if it didn’t stop soon, she’d pass out. Then the pain passed, and she let out her pent up breath in a wave of grateful relief.
As their hands separated, Polly felt a sudden change in the air, an intangible difference, but a change none the less. It was something good, something wonderful. It began to grow lighter, a tortuous, almost imperceptible brightening around them, although the world was cloaked in twilight. There was enough light left, though, to see the landscape around them clearly, the sun just touching the horizon, in a golden glow. Polly had no idea what had happened to undo the spell, but whatever it was it had worked. She could see Bert and Finn’s worried faces and the green and red lights blinking on the dashboard, just feeble flickers, but a welcome sight nonetheless. Then, the glimmer of hope that Polly had been feeling fled in an instant as she turned and looked out of the window at the terrible panorama stretching before them.
Some of the shadows were moving.
“By the pricking of my thumbs, something wicked this way comes,” Polly muttered under her breath. She could feel their dreadful power, a primaeval force, perhaps as old as the earth itself, closing in around them like a shroud.
“Oh fuck,” Finn said.
“Just stay steady my boy, we still have power, and we can beat this.”
Dark forms, the same as the malevolent creature that had attacked her and Finn at the riverside were laying siege to their vehicle – an army of darkness moving inexorably towards them.
“We can’t tackle that many,” Finn said.
“Yes we can, if we work together,” Bert replied.
“We’re not on our own here. If we call for help, it will c––” And Bert cut off the sentence mid-word as he looked across and saw something in the distance, beyond the advancing demons. Polly followed his gaze, and there on the ground, a sight so terrible that Polly felt the bile rise in her throat; it took all of her willpower not to throw up.
Bram, that giant bear of a man who could have beaten any man in a fight, was nothing more than a bloodied heap of flesh, lying in the dirt. He looked as if he’d been painted in blood, and then Polly realised why. His skin, all of his skin from head to toe had been ripped from his body, and it lay beside him like a shed snake, a strange bloody heap of slimy flesh.
“Oh, sweet Jesus,” Finn said.
“Keep control, son,” Bert ordered. “Focus. We have a problem to deal with here, and it’s not the time to fall to pieces.”
Bert closed his eyes, although how he could bring himself to do it, with those things moving towards them, Polly had no idea. She felt that heat building in her hands again as Bert drew on her energy and she started to feel faint as he pulled more and more from her, as if he were syphoning the life out of her. Still, they kept coming, edging forward, slowly but inexorably closing in for the kill.
“This isn’t working, Dad,” Finn said.
“They will tire eventually. We just have to keep them at bay long enough.”
“Yes, the problem is we’re tiring faster than they are.”
“You can take some more from me. I feel all right now.” Polly said. It was an outrageous lie; she felt as if her whole body had been put through a mincer, pain gnawing at her bones.
“Nice try, love, but I can see you, you know,” Finn replied.
Bert had gone very quiet, retreating inside of himself, his eyes closed, his head touching his chest. If Polly hadn’t known better she would have said that he’d just fallen asleep, but she could see his lips moving slightly as he recited some kind of litany, a spell perhaps to get them help from somewhere. She turned back to look out of the window at the dreadful scene in front of her. The smoke figures seemed to be a solid wall in front of her, like the old shield walls ancient warriors used to stop the enemy from breaking through their ranks.
As she looked harder at the amorphous shapes, she could see something moving inside them. Forms began to emerge, and she could discern features, faces peering at her through the smoke.
“I can see...”
“They’re Djinn. Shadow People, older than time itself,” Finn said.
The Djinn had stopped moving, just hovering about twenty feet in front of them.
“Why have they stopped?” Polly asked.
“They’re not sure if we’re holding back, waiting until they get closer before they strike.”
“Terrific. They’re going to find out pretty soon that we don’t have anything left to fight back with,” Polly said.
Bert opened his eyes and gave them a lopsided smile.
“Well, I think that should sort them out. Help is always available if you know where to look for it,” he said.
Above them, the sky grew dark again, and a strange yellow tinge fell over the whole world, the prelude to a thunderstorm. Thunder rolled around them, close by, a deep rumbling that vibrated through Polly’s chest. The flash of lightning made her jump a foot in the air. The sky above became a battlefield, the gods of old smashing into one another, angry gods, testing their strength. Rain sheeted against the windscreen, battering the roof, a solid wall of water, deluging down on them. The lightning crashed down around them, smashing into the earth.
Finn laughed.
“Electricity. The Djinn are weakened by electricity,” he said.
Bert looked very pleased with himself.
“It was simple enough to conjure a thunderstorm,” he said. “I just have a few promises to keep a bit later on.”
“Gaunt is so bloody arrogant, he overlooked the obvious,” Finn said, elated.
Lightning crackled through the air, great sheets of white light and as the lightning struck, the Djinn exploded in a shower of black sparks and smoke.
“Are we safe in here?” Polly asked, squealing like a stuck pig every time the lightning hit.
“The Range Rover’s tyres will keep us safe,” Bert said.
Polly tried to hold in her terror, but she clung onto Finn, paralysed with fear. Trees exploded ar
ound them, shards of wood like lethal daggers, flying outwards and only missing them and the vehicle by centimetres.
Gradually, after what seemed like several forevers to Polly, the thunder died away, and the rain eased, the lightning making a token strike here and there until it died away completely. The creatures were gone, all of them, and all that was left was a yellow sky, growing lighter as the thunder made its last protesting rumble, finally dying away altogether.
“They’re gone,” Bert finally said. “They’re gone.”
And they were. There was nothing left to show they were ever here, their remains washed into the sodden earth.
“It’s safe to get out,” Bert said, struggling to open the heavy door. He looked like death, his face drained, almost grey, deep rings around his eyes. He was shaking violently and suddenly looked so very old. “That was a tough one.”
Finn got out and helped Bert down, then Polly slipped down into his waiting arms. They all turned towards Bram’s body, just standing for some moments staring at it in numbed horror.
Finn dropped to his knees and threw up. Polly wanted to be sick but couldn’t. She knelt beside Finn and took out a tissue for him to wipe his mouth. Bert began walking towards what was left of Bram, taking tottering steps, as if every motion was torture for him. It was growing dark now, and they had to light lamps to be able to see where they were going, stepping carefully over the treacherously muddy ground.
“When I get my hands on your uncle, I’m going to do that to him, slowly,” Finn said, pulling himself to his feet and following his father. “That’s a promise. That fucking coward couldn’t face us himself. He had to send those things to do it for him.”
“I know, son – we’ll make him pay,” Bert said. His voice was calm, peaceful almost, and it made Polly very afraid. Finn looked like a corpse, his face a death mask, his eyes glassy.
“Not if Bert gets his hands on him first,” Polly replied.