Darkness Shall Fall

by Alister E. McGrath

  “But if we can get the horn, maybe we can use it to draw them away,” Julia said “Maybe they’d leave the talisman just sitting there, and we could get it.”

  Gregory shook his head quickly. “Too risky, Julia. Too many ‘ifs.’ Let’s just go back and report what we’ve seen.”

  “But what if this is our only chance?” Julia’s whisper was as insistent as she could make it. “We’ve got to try for it now. We might never see that horn again!”

  “Try for it? Don’t be absurd, Julia. We’d be seen — we’d be caught — and Lord of Hosts preserve us if that happens.”

  Julia shook her head, her eyebrows knit together. “We’ll wait,” she said. “We’ve always thought they sleep during the day. Louisa knows our mission might take until morning. We’ll just wait here through the night.”

  Gregory looked at her as if she were crazy. “They’re sure to leave a watch. It isn’t safe, and with so few of us left we can’t afford to take foolish chances like this. We ought to return and plan with the others. It’s what we’d expect them to do if we were the ones waiting back at the cave.”

  He was right. There was nothing to say to this, yet still Julia stayed where she was, feet planted firmly on the ground. “That’s true,” she finally said, “but I’m going to stay and try to get that horn. You go back and explain what I’m doing. Tell Louisa you couldn’t convince me because I was being ‘beastly.’ She’ll understand.” Julia turned her head to look back at the camp. “We don’t know what will happen tomorrow, and if Louisa’s right, we have even less time than we have people.”

  She stepped away into the dense underbrush and found a place to lie down and wait.

  A moment later, Gregory knelt down near her. “We’ll, I’m certainly not leaving you here alone.”

  Julia smiled. And so they waited.

  “When we get out past the breakers,” Peras said, “we will lash the three rafts together. This will give us more stability in the waves and will make sure we don’t get separated.”

  Peter approved of this logic. It agreed with what he knew of nautical science. What he wished he could have more of right then, though, was the science of fire. He stood knee-deep in the frigid waves, as he and the other men held onto the rafts and prepared to launch them into the outgoing tide. Oh, for some kind of heated boots right about now.

  It would be dawn soon, and Peter’s muscles ached from the backbreaking work they’d done all night to get the rafts ready. His mind was so tired from figuring it all out that he would’ve fallen asleep right then and there if it weren’t for the icy water. He figured he needed to give just one more round of strength to help get his raft out beyond where the waves got white and turned over. They’d lash the rafts together and turn everything over to Peras. Then he could curl up in the sun — the beautiful sun that he hadn’t seen in two months — and sleep for a whole day if he wanted.

  Orrin looked at him from the other side of the raft. They were both at the front, which meant they’d be getting wet first. But it was where the leaders should be. Peter grinned at Orrin with what he hoped was a courageous smile. Orrin’s returned smile looked a bit green — and they weren’t even floating yet. Peter made sure the little knife he had found was firmly tucked in his belt, and he took a strong grip on the raft.

  “After the next wave, men,” Peras said. He stood at the back of the third raft, a bundle of vines in his hands. “And … now!”

  Peter and the others shoved their raft into the surf, feeling the previous wave withdrawing around them, helping them. Until the next wave slammed into them. Peter was able to hold onto the raft, but Orrin lost his grip. Around them, men kicked and flailed and tried to keep the rafts heading out to sea.

  A frigid, exhausting seven minutes later, they escaped the breakers. Peter nodded his head at Peras’s good judgment. He was right: there was no way they could’ve gotten the old women and the children and the wounded through the surf like that. Better to wait until they could all travel on a proper ship. Peter guided his raft to where the other two were already being lashed together.

  “Good work, men!” Peras tossed vines to the men on Peter’s raft, and they began tying them to the other two. Peras looked heroic even dripping wet. The peach-colored sky of predawn lit him like a superhuman. “It’s smooth sailing now,” he said. “Who wants dried meat?”

  Most of the men were shivering too much to seem interested in food. But Peter raised his hand, and Peras tossed him a stick of the tough meat. It beat mushrooms and nuts, but he did wonder when they were going to see how the Lord of Hosts provided for His children.

  Thinking about mushrooms made him think about Julia. “I wonder how the others are doing.” He wasn’t sure if he’d said it aloud or just thought it. Neither Orrin nor any of the others responded. The only sound was the sloshing of the waves between the logs of the rafts. No one answered, Peter must have just thought the question to himself, but then he saw Peras’s face.

  The look on their savior’s face was dark and angry. Peter was instantly reminded of the night they’d come back without enough logs and vines. How quickly his fury could appear. But what had caused it this time?

  “You’d rather go back?” It seemed Peras had barely whispered, though Peter heard it clearly over the surf.

  Heads popped up on the rafts as the others looked around to see what was happening.

  Peter realized the question was for him. “Um, no. Not until we can build our boat and get them all.”

  Peras’s glare was intense. “That’s good, Peter. I wouldn’t want to think you were questioning a messenger of the Lord of Hosts.”

  “Me? Never. How could they have all gone through a launch like that if ten strong men could barely do it?”

  This seemed to appease Peras. His muscles began to unclench. “Exactly.”

  “No, you’ve been very logical about it all. Very scientific.” Peter tore off a bite of the dried meat as if to prove his appreciation for what Peras had done for them. “I was just wondering, though,” he said, while chomping the chewy bite, “about my sister. She was unconscious when we left. Some of the others were—”

  “Enough!” The anger was back in Peras’s eyes, and Peter half-wondered if he was going to walk across the rafts and throw him overboard. “Silence your doubts, unbeliever!”

  Now Peras did step toward Peter. The men pulled their legs and bodies out of the way as Peras stalked across the rafts. He stood over Peter and bent down. Peter thought he was going to yell in his face, but instead he grabbed Peter by the shoulder and hoisted him into the air.

  “Peras!” Orrin said. “What are you doing? Just put him d—”

  “Silence, insect, or you’ll be next.” Peras turned his furious eyes on Peter, dangling him above his head. “You would question my wisdom, toad? You would question reason and science?”

  “No!” Peter said, now more concerned about how his arm was getting pulled out of its socket than having a conversation. “Of course not. I lov — Ow! I love science. It’s my favorite. Nothing wrong with science when looked at correctly. I’ve built my life arou—”

  Peras dropped him so hard the raft almost tipped over. “Good. See that you remember that.” He stepped back toward his raft. “See that all of you remember!” He shouted it to the sea, his arms stretched wide. “Defy me, and find yourself swimming home.”

  Peter rubbed his shoulder. Orrin crawled over to see if he could help, but Peter shook his head. He looked over at the far raft. Peras had changed. Or perhaps he’d been like this all along, and Peter had just refused to see it. He looked down at his little knife and vowed to have it ready if Peras ever came at him like that again. But would it do any good? He looked again at the muscular brute with the golden hair. If this was a messenger of the Lord of Hosts, something was terribly wrong.

  For the first time since Peras stepped into their cave, Peter was afraid.

  “Beastly animals.”

  Julia shook her head as she watched the
Gul’nog finish their savage feast. The hiding place she shared with Gregory was over fifty meters away, but she could see their violent ways well enough from it. And with the sun finally starting to rise over the horizon, she could see the violence even better.

  She didn’t know what kind of animals the Gul’nog had eaten. Some kind of deer, mostly, along with rabbits, and even possibly some owls or hawks and a pig. The monsters didn’t seem to care, so long as it was red meat. She hadn’t seen them eat any humans, but she imagined they would love it.

  Perhaps you’ve never known the feeling of being something’s future meal. When you’ve gone to a zoo or have been out on an exploration, maybe you have seen the hungry look in the eyes of a lion or bear or wolf or shark. People live their lives thinking they are the top of the food chain, that if they had to they could eat just about any kind of animal if it meant staying alive. But when you are being looked upon as nothing more than a meaty meal, it reminds you that people are not the kings of the universe.

  The Gul’nog hadn’t even cooked their meat, though there were bonfires all around. Judging from how they’d fought among themselves for the last animal left alive, it was the fresher, the better for them.

  Julia noticed that the sky had begun lightening. She marveled at the changes, the first time she had seen the light of daybreak in two months. Now, as the dawn’s rays poked through the trees into their filthy camp, the monsters appeared to get sleepy. They licked the last bones clean, belched, and tossed the bones into the fire. There must be some kind of pecking order, Julia thought. They kicked and thumped each other to get the shadiest spots and settled down to sleep.

  Julia looked over at Gregory. He’d managed to sleep, lucky bloke. She pushed his shoulder, and he awoke with a start.

  “What? Are they attacking?”

  “Shh! No, we’re fine.” Julia came to her knees to look over the fallen log they were hiding behind. Gregory sat up. “It’s like we thought,” she said. “They’re going to sleep just as the sun comes up.”

  Gregory stretched his good arm and yawned. “Did you sleep?”

  She looked at him as if to say, You have to ask?

  “Oh,” he said. “Sorry. I guess I could’ve watched some and let you sleep.”

  “No matter. I wouldn’t have anyway.”

  He rubbed his injured shoulder and patted down his hair. “So where’s our musician?”

  “I’m sorry?”

  “Our horn player,” he said. “The giant with the pipes.”

  Julia got it. “Oh. Well, he’s the big boss, apparently, so he got the best spot. They only have one hut in the whole camp, and that’s his. He went in with half a rabbit about thirty minutes ago, and he hasn’t come out.”

  Gregory gathered his feet beneath him as if to stand. “Well, let’s get to it then.”

  “Wait!” Julia grabbed his wrist. “They’ve posted two guards, one at each end of camp. The closest is right … there, just coming out from behind that fire that’s almost out.”

  Gregory looked to where she was pointing. “Um, scrawny runt — for a Gul’nog. Must’ve lost the battle to see who had to take first watch.”

  Julia hadn’t noticed that before, but he seemed to be right. Compared to the others, this guard was just a pup. Of course, a short giant is still a giant. She thought he was probably seven feet tall at least. More than a match for both of them combined.

  “So what’s your plan?” Gregory asked.

  She’d been hoping he’d ask that. “The plan is for you to stay here while I sneak in and get the horn. Then we go back to camp, get everyone ready while it’s still daylight, and come back and lead the monsters away with a toot.”

  Gregory looked at her as if waiting for her to say something else.

  She felt herself blushing. “What?”

  “I’m waiting for the end of the joke, of course.”

  Now she was mad. “I’m not joking. That’s the plan, take it or leave it.”

  He raised his hands. “Leave it! Did you get a bad mushroom? Julia, that’s not a plan, that’s crazy talk. You’ll be caught for sure.”

  “I will not. Look, our closer guard isn’t even pretending to patrol around the camp anymore. Now that everyone’s asleep, he’ll probably find a shady spot and sack out himself.”

  “Probably? Probably and maybe and if are going to get you served up as a Gul’nog appetizer.”

  She ignored him. “You can’t do it because you’re a big oaf with a bad arm. You’d trip over something and wake up the whole camp.”

  He looked like he was going to object, so she went on quickly.

  “I’m small and smart and fast. I’ll zoom from spot to spot quick as a breeze and be back out here with the horn before you can say ‘Bob’s your uncle.’ “

  He blinked at her. “Who’s Bob?”

  “Ugh, never mind! You just stay here, and I’ll—”

  Gregory gripped Julia’s shoulder tightly but not unkindly. “Are you absolutely certain you want to do this, Julia? Now that we know they sleep during the day, we can come back here in a few hours with everyone. We can make our grab then. And if it works or it doesn’t work, it won’t matter, because you can lead them away from the group either way.”

  He turned to look back into the forest. “There are plenty of good hiding places here. So the group can be in these trees. And whether the whole camp wakes up and chases you or whether you blow the horn and they follow, either way the rest of us will sneak around behind and get to the volcano. We’ll just …” He turned back around. “Julia?”

  She was already twenty meters inside the Gul’nog camp.

  Julia saw him notice her. Despite the danger she was in, she almost laughed. It was sweet how worried he was about her. Even from this distance, she could see the concern on his face. She thought for a minute he would come running after her, but thankfully he just settled back into their hiding place to watch.

  To watch her succeed, she hoped, not to watch her come to a gruesome end.

  She remembered she was going to scream if she got into trouble. That scream of power. As she crawled between two sleeping Gul’nog — their snores almost as disgusting as their stench — she wondered if she’d actually be able to scream or if she’d be too scared when they were about to catch her. She held her breath and crawled on. She’d just have to make sure it didn’t come to that.

  Julia snuck behind a pile of firewood. The horn-blower’s shack was another fifteen meters away. She cast a glance toward the nearer guard. He hadn’t sat down to sleep yet, but he wasn’t patrolling either. He was standing at the top of the cliff overlooking the ocean. He appeared to be examining the sea or the black shadow from the volcano. No matter — his back was to her. She turned back toward the hut. There were just … she swatted a fly away … eight Gul’nog to get past before … another fly landed on her nose, and she shooed it away … before she could get to the entrance of the —

  What was it with all the flies?

  She looked around the stack of wood and saw what it was. A carcass of a large bird — an eagle, perhaps — lay on the ground in a sprawl of feathers, legs, and gnawed meat. She thought it was a raven at first, so many black flies were on it. A puff of wind from the sea shook them all to flight, revealing the brown feathers beneath. Then, just as quickly, they were on it again. Julia thought she was going to throw up.

  She thought briefly of Louisa’s request for them to bring home a bushel of mushrooms. Not likely. Judging from how desecrated and filthy this camp was, even fungus wouldn’t grow here. And the sight of that poor bird had chased her appetite away at any rate.

  Her eyes now caught the motion of swarming insects from all around her. From all over the camp, in fact. A feast for flies. The bugs seemed to land mostly on the carcasses, but they also seemed to like the Gul’nog and other unidentified piles of … something … all over the ground just as well. Getting caught because she threw up too loudly — now that was a danger she’d not anticipated when
she’d made this plan.

  But whether it was from the night of gorging or the morning sun, the nasty creatures around her seemed sound asleep. She glanced at the near guard and observed that he’d sat down to look at the ocean now. She spotted the far guard pacing away out of sight. Then she crawled as quickly as she could toward the horn-blower’s hut. She could’ve gone even faster, but she couldn’t make herself get too near the piles of goo.

  The boss’s shack wasn’t much more than a three-log teepee with wolf pelts pinned up as walls. A deerskin pelt hung across the opening as a sort of door. Keeping herself hidden between a weapons rack and the side of the shack, she slithered up to the entrance and peeked underneath the deerskin.

  The inside was surprisingly dark. She had to wait a few seconds for her eyes to adjust. In the meantime, her nose and ears told her all she needed to know: there was a stinky Gul’nog in here, and it was fast asleep.

  When she could finally see a little, she found the inside of the hut to be basically a penned-in version of the exterior of the camp. Nasty piles of goo, half-eaten carcasses covered with buzzing flies, a small fire pit, and a sleeping giant snoring away.

  Was she really going to go in there? She looked back toward Gregory, but couldn’t see him from here. Across the camp, the Gul’nog remained asleep. But it was an eerie calm, like a room in which dozens of people were hiding and were just about to jump out and yell “Surprise!” Still, there was nothing to tell Julia she was in any extra danger right now.

  So she readied a scream in her throat and crawled inside the hut.

  CHAPTER

  8

  “What do you say, Peter — some breakfast for you?”

  Peter looked up at Peras. The sun was over the horizon now and directly behind Peras’s head. His golden hair, shimmering in the light, still gave him the look of an angel, but his face was in shadow. His eyes nothing more than glints of black stone.