Absence_Mist and Shadow

by J. B. Forsyth

  ‘Look at me boy!’ he said, taking hold of his shirt and slapping his face. ‘Look at me and focus.’ The blur of Ormis’s face slowly sharpened until the full force of his grey eyes were upon him. ‘Has it passed?’

  ‘I think so.’

  ‘What did we tell you about staring into the mist? Don’t look into it unless you have to. Keep your eyes moving and you’ll have no trouble. Understand?’

  He was about to say yes, he did understand, when something caught his attention and he pointed instead. ‘Look.’ They all turned, but he could tell from their faces they weren’t seeing what he was. ‘It’s the ghosts I told you about.’

  Najo and Allie were flying over the mud flats towards them. And as if understanding the difficulty the others were having, they swooped beneath the mist; re-emerging as bright green spectres.

  Now they all saw.

  Ormis fired up his draw and this time Kye got a greater sense of the medium through which it was acting. He could feel lines of tension joining himself to the ghosts and Ormis. And there was a bowing of material which suggested a force between the exorcist and the ghosts. You will see, hear and feel what others can’t – senses that will only strengthen with time. The exorcist’s words came back to him now and he realised his senses had crossed another threshold, allowing him to feel detailed distortions of the Membrane.

  The ghosts drew up fifty feet away, no doubt feeling Ormis’s draw. They hung in the air, their green transparencies so close together they were beginning to merge.

  ‘We’re here to beg a kindness,’ said Najo. ‘We saw what the soul burner did for your friend.’

  Kye frowned.

  ‘You didn’t see,’ said Allie. ‘It was after you left.’

  ‘What are they saying?’ Ormis asked.

  Kye felt a change in the Membrane and knew the little ghosts were pressing themselves against it. And when Najo spoke again they all heard.

  ‘You helped your friend to pass,’ he said, addressing Ormis directly. ‘And there was no pain or fire. We’re here to ask if you would do the same for us.’

  ‘Never. Go back to Izle and tell him we won’t play this game. Go now, for there is only pain and fire for you here.’

  ‘Izle didn’t send us and we’re not playing games.’

  ‘You’re the work of black arts. It’s impossible for you to coexist in the same haunt.’

  Allie smiled. ‘And yet we do. Might there be some things you don’t understand soul burner?’

  ‘You have your answer.’

  They drifted away and began to circle around them.

  ‘Move together!’ Ormis shouted. ‘And be sure we’re all joined.’ They formed a tight knot - Kring centremost with a huge hand on each of their shoulders.

  The ghosts picked up speed, the tension joining them to Kye revolving like spokes on a giant wheel. They spun quicker and quicker, soon generating a physical vortex that blew the mist away; exposing the flats.

  What they saw was horrifying. The mud was riddled with the quivering mouths of giant worms. They could see right into the closest ones and they were lined with crooked yellow teeth and filled with swirls of residual mist. There was one in the exact place Kye was going to fall when Ormis grabbed him and it was squelching in its burrow; clearly frustrated by his proximity. It was a sight so sudden and powerful they all shrank from it, bunching against Kring on a small island of firm ground. Kye looked back at all the worms Suula had guided them around and felt sick.

  The ghosts slowed and the mist reclaimed the area.

  ‘We call them lurkers,’ said Najo. ‘And there’s hundreds of them. Some big and some small. Some large enough to swallow the giant. The trees are their tails and the berries their bait. When the mist comes they slip down their burrows and up the other side; waiting with their mouths open for prey like you. They won’t let you leave. But if you promise to help us, we’ll help you.’

  ‘We’ll take our chances with the worms,’ said Ormis, strengthening his draw. ‘Now be off.’

  Kye gawped at him. Given what they had just seen, it was madness not to consider their offer. The ghosts looked at each other and he guessed a similar thought was passing between them.

  ‘Then you’ll die,’ said Allie. ‘They know you’re here and they’re waiting for you to make a mistake… But their patience has limits.’

  They drifted away, getting dimmer as the mist evaporated from them. Kye wanted to call them back, but the exorcist was gripping him hard and his resolve was quarried into his stony face.

  ‘Have they gone?’ he asked after some time. Kye didn’t trust himself to speak and simply nodded. The way he felt now, he could have pushed him into the nearest worm hole. ‘If you see them again, tell me right away.’ He turned to the rest of them. ‘We came this far in ignorance. It should be no different now… Suula, take us on.’

  The little tracker didn’t hesitate. She set off straight away, feeling through the mist with her sword and sniffing at the air. And when she discovered a worm, she circled her sword above it, marking its position in their minds. Ormis followed fearlessly – his easy footfalls a screaming mismatch to the danger all around him. The rest of them couldn’t muster the same indifference and shuffled forward as if on tightropes, every blind step a heart pounding act of faith.

  Lurkers

  The stars came out as they laboured across the flats. Suula’s nose was more than equal to the task, but her route to the trees was tortuous and they made slow progress. Where the worms became too concentrated or the ground too soft, they were forced to walk frustrating stretches that ran parallel to the trees or directly away from them. And at every step the worms became more restless, squelching and slurping beneath the mist in anticipation of a wrong step.

  About a quarter of a mile from the trees their concentration was broken by a loud stuttering suction. They froze – all heads turning to the sound. Fifty yards to their right the ribbed body of a worm was rising from the flats, its wet flanks glistening with reflected mist light. And as they watched, they were all reminded of Allie’s parting words: ‘… they’re waiting for you to make a mistake… But their patience has limits.’

  The worm was more than twice Kring’s height when it stopped rising. It swayed in the air and lolled towards them; its quivering mouth hanging like a loose pocket. Then it splashed down into the mud, wafting mist into rolling spirals and coming at them; propelled by a sickly wave that rippled the length of its wet body. The urge to flee was enormous, but they remained rooted to the spot. There were dozens of gaping mouths hidden beneath the mist all around them and a misplaced step would drop them through a tube of teeth.

  The worm made a direct line for Kye, but Kring lifted him off his feet, putting him down safely behind him and drawing his swords. He welcomed the worm with his steel; hacking with vertical strokes. And with a drum beating rhythm, he sliced it open, separating it into two bloody flanks that flopped either side of him. But the worm rippled forward without slowing, oblivious to the devastation of its front end. Kring was half way through it when its underbelly, unable to pass his planted feet, folded back on itself and lifted out of the mist like a toothed tongue. He stepped over it without pause, but the release of pressure allowed the base of the worm to surge forward, pushing the others away. They were each forced to take a couple of blind steps and it was only through sheer luck they found firm ground. The worm stopped only when Kring had hacked all the way through to its tree like tail. By then his face was covered with sword splatter and the worm’s twitching flanks were curled out of the mist like the ends of a toothed scroll.

  They looked around and saw more worms – rising from burrows, splashing into the mud and rippling through the mist. And it was clear the next one to arrive wouldn’t be on its own. Suula had been pointing out the locations of the nearest worm burrows, but in all the excitement Kye had forgotten where they were. He wondered why they weren’t rising like the rest and was chilled by a sudden understanding: they were waiting for
the other worms to push them into their open mouths. The situation was desperate and when he looked at the others for guidance, he saw the same thoughts mirrored in their faces. To fight was hopeless, but to run was madness.

  It was during this paralysis of indecision that Najo and Allie returned. They sped in from the west and circled them again; drawing the mist into a vortex and exposing the mud flats. And in a matter of seconds, they were surrounded by a six-foot wall of rotating mist that encompassed dozens of worms.

  ‘Let’s go,’ said Kring, stepping around Suula and bounding away between two writhing mouths. Kye and Kail went straight after him, leaving the little tracker alone with Ormis. The exorcist’s turbulent eyes flicked back and forth between the ghosts, his mistrust rooting him to the spot. But his hesitation was brief. There was no denying they were worm food if they remained there and with a nod to Suula they sprinted away.

  They raced around the burrows and the ghosts kept pace, keeping them in the centre of the vortex. But there was no calm in the eye of the storm - only a constantly changing arena of worms. They made good progress to begin with, easily outrunning those that were rippling over the surface. The worms relied on the mist to blind and hypnotise their prey and without it they were severely disadvantaged.

  But they weren’t without options and soon changed their tactics.

  Some began positioning themselves at right angles to their run; emerging from the vortex as monstrous barricades they had to go around. When two of them began levering themselves together to form a continuous barrier, Kring charged. He dropped his shoulder and slammed into the nearest one, bowing its ribbed belly away and preventing it locking mouths with its partner. He held it while the other ran through and slid off, sprinting after them. Soon after a baby worm appeared. It was faster than the others and came straight at Kye. It would have been completely hidden under a blanket of mist – a tube of teeth with the potential to bite his foot clean off. Kring ran up behind him and launched it off his boot. It turned end over end and disappeared over the vortex.

  Their luck ran out when they were confronted by a solid wall of tightly packed worms. How far it extended to either side they couldn’t tell, but the jungle was now tantalisingly close and it loomed over the mist. Kring looked over the top of the worms as the rest of them bunched around him.

  ‘There’s dozens more behind!’ he said. ‘Stand back while I cut through.’ He began hacking through a worm, but it didn’t open as expected. This time he was cutting across instead of along it, and the worm was able to stop the wound opening by pressing it together with peristaltic waves that travelled inward from both ends of its body. And after a dozen vicious strokes, one of his blades became stuck and he had to use three hands and a boot to pull it free. Behind them a semicircle of converging mouths was fast approaching.

  ‘On top quick!’ he said, sheathing his swords and drawing daggers. He plunged them into the worm’s slippery flank and used them to climb onto its back. Then he helped the others up – Ormis’s leg just escaping a puckering tube of razor sharp teeth. From the top they could all see the extent of the blockade – a dense, haphazard arrangement of worms with patches of mist trapped in between.

  ‘We’ll have to go across the top,’ said Kring, before jumping to the next one. He landed well, but lost his footing on its slimy surface and fell onto its back with a wet slap. He stabilised himself with his daggers, rose to a crouch and waved them over. They jumped over one at a time, grabbing his spare arms and arranging themselves behind him. Najo and Allie moved forward, bringing a single tree inside the vortex.

  The worm flexed and arched, trying to throw them; but they were gathered on its relatively stiff middle, away from the ferocious whipping of its tree like tail and writhing mouth. Kring leapt onto another worm whose long axis was aligned with the direction of the trees. He laid prone on its back, upper arms hugging its glistening girth while his lower arms reached back. They jumped over, grabbed his hands for balance and trampled over him.

  Kail was last to jump. He sprang clean, but the worm flicked its tail and he landed off centre, slipping off and disappearing into the mist. They stared after him, seeing in their mind’s eye the toothed belly into which he had fallen. When his hand appeared, Kring swung down and grabbed it. He pulled and Kail screamed over a sickening crunch. He shot out of the mist, but there was only half of him. Kring let go and he windmilled over them, his severed waist spraying blood. He landed upright with a wet thud, head above the mist and neck hinged back; dead eyes trained on the stars.

  But there was no time to contemplate the horror. Suula ran along the worm and jumped off. From Kye’s angle it seemed like madness, but he straightened to see her land in an area free of mist. Najo and Allie moved the vortex forward and a whole line of trees came into view. In seconds they were following Suula’s lead, jumping down and sprinting between the last few worm holes.

  They stopped in the relative safety of the jungle. The ghosts slowed their rotation and the vortex collapsed, allowing the captured mist to continue west. They looked back over the mud flats and saw hundreds of worms moving across the surface like black maggots in a poisonous gas. The blockade was dispersing, but they weren’t pursuing. Some of the worms were already slipping back into their burrows – bodies bending into the ground and rear ends whipping into the air.

  Kye looked for the ghosts, keen to express his gratitude. But he was shocked to see Ormis leaping at Najo and drawing him in. He shouted at the exorcist to stop, but his protest wasn’t needed. A blur of light shot through the trees, severing his draw and spinning him off his feet. Allie grabbed her brother as his elongated spectre took back its original form and they sped off into the jungle. The exorcist sprang up, sweeping his draw around in an attempt to recapture him, but he was already beyond reach.

  ‘They saved our lives!’

  ‘Is that what you think? They led us to a blockade of worms! Kail’s dead because of them and the rest of us are lucky to be alive.’

  Kye was stunned. The exorcist had it back to front and upside down. If not for Najo and Allie, they would all be dead. ‘They just wanted you to help them.’

  ‘And you believed them. This is what I was talking about this morning. Your affinity to the Membrane is growing stronger and it’s clouding your reasoning. Spirits are not your friends!’

  Kye battled against his gaze and soon realised there was nothing he could say to change his mind. He turned away in a huff and folded his arms.

  The little ghosts watched the exchange from behind a tree, and when it was over Allie turned to her brother. ‘I can’t believe he was going to burn you, after we saved them from the lurkers. He won’t help us no matter what we do.’

  ‘What about Kye?’

  ‘He doesn’t have the skill of the soul burner.’

  ‘But he’s Twum and strong with it.’

  ‘So what?’

  ‘We could ask him to try.’

  They studied Kye’s back, considering his potential.

  ‘Even if he’s willing,’ said Allie, ‘the soul burner won’t let him.’

  ‘We could get him alone?’

  ‘How?’

  ‘They came here looking for a girl. We could find her and offer to bring them together. We could make a bargain without the soul burner hearing.’

  Allie was horrified. ‘But he said she was being taken to the glass tunnels? We agreed not to go there.’

  ‘Then we’ll just have to find her before she arrives.’ He reached out and their hands merged in a blur of light. ‘You saw how easily that man passed. The Last Place just opened and he funnelled in… The Last Place Allie! How long have we wanted it? We might never get a chance like this again.’

  The doubt melted from Allie’s face – no argument could stand against talk of the Last Place. ‘Alright,’ she said, her spectral face brightening with hope. ‘Let’s go.’

  They set off hand in hand, flying through trees and gliding over the mist.

  Horror
in the Hollows

  Della watched from the top balcony as the mist billowed through the courtyard gate and swept around the tower like a wave breaking on a lighthouse. When it reached the back wall it began to rotate clockwise around the base; a current that would continue until dawn when the mist would sink through the cracked cobbles and soak into the land.

  She had found no sign of her rescue party in the tower and was beginning to entertain the possibility they were all dead – slain by the assassin Griglis sent out. But to believe it was to abandon all hope; to accept a stark reality in which she was all alone in the Wilderness with only the shadow for company. A reality she couldn’t face. So she dismissed the idea and set off to find them. If they had tracked her from the tower the next place to look was the gorge and she took a path in its general direction, searching for the break in the canopy.

  Less than a mile from the tower, something encircled her neck and arms. She spun around, expecting to see another spirit, but the sky was empty. She pulled at the invisible nooses and when her fingers slipped through, she realised what was happening: something had found her body!

  She forced herself to relax and tuned into the sensations. Whatever encircled her neck and arms was thin and woody and there was a rough friction travelling the length of her back. She fitted it together and realised she was being pulled along the branch by a pair of vines. An image of the mist leecher flashed up in her mind, its swirling eye tightening with predatory anticipation. And although her body was several miles away she felt its blood run cold. She shot off in the direction of the dead trees, her imagination already suggesting a range of imminent and horrible deaths.

  She gained height and found them easily. The lack of foliage allowed the mist to light the area like a beacon and she arced into it like a spent arrow, her blurring spectre reforming above the empty knot. The vines had dragged her to the trunk and now with one great tug they yanked her up against it; so hard she felt the crack of her head and thump of her heels. She ran her eyes up the tree and was struck by a new terror when a pulse of mist light revealed a gaping hole into which one of the vines disappeared. She shot forward, reanimating her body with desperate kicking that served only to twist her around, bringing her face to face with the rotten opening as she was hauled up to it. Another vine appeared from the shadows and when it began to encircle her legs she kicked ever more frantically, fearing the loss of her remaining freedom. But the vine made a wide loop around her legs and simply tightened, squeezing them together at the knees. Then she was tipping; legs lifting away from the trunk and her head pivoting over the lip of the opening. She got one last look at the star studded sky before she was pulled upside down into the dark hollow of the tree.