The Night Parade

by Scott Ciencin

  “He’s alive!” she screamed. “But he’s going to need help. I don’t know if we can move him.”

  “We have to get out of here,” Varina screamed. “Where are the others?”

  “I don’t know,” Myrmeen said as she left Burke’s side and gradually angled herself so that she could see into the room where Varina was trapped.

  “Myrmeen, come on!” Krystin shouted impatiently. The girl was struggling with the boards and desperately needed help. She did not turn when she heard the sound of absolute disgust that rose from Myrmeen; Krystin had already looked into the next room and learned its secrets.

  “What are you?” Myrmeen whispered, entranced by the sight of the grotesquerie in the next room. Then she corrected herself, as ‘what aren’t you,’ would have been a more appropriate question.

  The creature’s body resembled a gluttonous, red- and purple-veined flower. Its quivering layers of flesh pulsated with clear sacs containing shiny black pearls the size of a man’s fist. A half dozen tentacles rose from its base like the limbs of a starfish. At the core of the monster, surrounded by the obscenely pulsating pedals of flesh, was a wormlike, gelatinous trunk from which long, thin stalks protruded. At the end of each tiny stalk sat a human head. Some appeared to be alive, their eyes darting back and forth with madness and fear, their mouths working in silent screams. There were close to a dozen heads in all. Not all were alive. The necks of those who were dead seemed to be shrinking, as if the lifeless heads would be ground into the sickening mass of the creature, where the bones of humans were clearly visible. A shattered vertebrae poked out of its mass.

  Myrmeen felt as she were going to be sick and forced down the mounting bile in her throat.

  “Save my husband,” Varina called from her unseen niche in the room. “I’ll get away from this thing.”

  Myrmeen turned from the hole in the wall and looked to her daughter.

  “I’ve seen worse,” Krystin said as she finally managed to pry the board loose. The next one did not appear to be as firmly mounted. Myrmeen ran to her side and slid her sword under two of the boards, using her leverage to yank them loose. They pulled the boards free and exposed a section of window large enough for Krystin to fit through, once the glass was shattered. Suddenly, the squeal of the dragonfly-child rose in the distance. It was not alone.

  Myrmeen heard Varina scream again, the sound coupled with the flapping of wings. She turned to see four identical dragonfly-children sail into the room, the wingspan of each close to four feet.

  From the other side of the glass window before Krystin, two figures suddenly appeared. The girl slammed at the glass as she shouted, “Myrmeen, Reisz and Ord are right outside!”

  As if the creatures had understood Krystin’s words, or were instead drawn by the sound of her screams, the group of dragonfly-children heightened their own squeals and dived straight at the tall brunette and her thin, hard-muscled daughter. Without hesitation, Krystin dove out of the way, rolling on the floor until she was within reach of the tentacle from the other room. Realizing the danger, Krystin rolled again as the heavy limb slapped the floor where she had been. Myrmeen raised her sword to fight, then realized how quickly her flesh could be ripped from her bones by the creatures’ talons, which were less similar to human hands than she first had believed. She followed her daughter’s lead and dove to the ground, rolling until she was halfway across the room. Then she bounded to her feet, her sword raised before her.

  Krystin was at the door, her trembling fingers about to turn the lock when an inhuman hand punched through the door from the other side, causing her to cry out and stumble back. The hand had a large, flat thumb and two fingers each the size of a pair of human fingers fused together. The muscle covering the hand looked as if it had been stripped of flesh. Krystin fell to the floor, scrambling away from the hand, and shouted when her back touched Myrmeen’s sturdy legs. She grabbed Myrmeen’s waist and pulled herself to her feet.

  Myrmeen was immobile, standing with her sword held out from her body to one side, in a traditional stance of readiness taught to her by Burke. The dragonfly-children congregated by the window, holding their position. They had cut off Myrmeen and Krystin from their only avenue of escape and waited to prey upon their rescuers. The Harpers beat at the heavy glass from the outside, shattering parts of it with the hilts of their swords. Ord tried to reach inside to punch away a sliver of glass, and one of the dragonfly-children darted at his hand, its teeth fastening on his palm. The young man screamed, and Reisz’s sword was thrust through the window, into the gold-and-black body of the creature, which writhed on the sword blade, then reached down and shattered the steel with its many hands. The broken shaft of metal was still in its bloated body as the creature flitted into Myrmeen’s room. It proceeded to wail and throw itself against every wall in agony before it fell silent in death.

  Suddenly Krystin heard noise at the door. She turned to see the red arm of their new assailant as it reached through the hole it had made and tried to unlock the door. Krystin had been allowed to keep one of Myrmeen’s knives. She drew the weapon and threw it at the arm. The blade sank deep into its flesh. The creature that owned the arm did not flinch; at least, the arm did not. With a sharp click, the door was unlocked. Krystin gasped as the arm retreated through the hole it had made. The door swung open, and she saw the creature, who had the lower body of a slug and the torso of a man. Its head was graced with wildly protruding jaws, which chattered as a thin, long tongue darted around in its mouth.

  “Krystin,” Myrmeen said, her voice laced with fear, “there’s something you have to know about me—”

  A sharp hiss came from beside Myrmeen. She leapt back in surprise as she saw Lucius Cardoc fade into existence at her side. “May I assume that this is one of those times that interference will not insult you?” Lucius asked.

  “You know it,” Myrmeen said.

  “I thought as much.” Lucius turned, whispered a phrase, and aimed his hands at the torso of the red-skinned creature. The monster slid across the floor with considerable speed. A thunderclap that was deafening in the confines of the small room accompanied the release of the mage’s spell. Myrmeen barely heard the sizzle and the crack as a burst of reddish blue light erupted from the mage’s hands and struck the wormlike man. The creature did not have time to scream as the arcane fires ripped it to pieces. Sections of its body left dents and cracks in the wall as they hit. The eruption of gore and blood splattered the Harpers.

  “That’s really disgusting,” Krystin said.

  “I will keep your criticism in mind,” Lucius said as he turned to the window, where the dragonfly-children squealed and hurled themselves in the mage’s direction.

  “Reisz, Ord, jump clear, now!” Myrmeen screamed. The Harpers leapt, and Lucius released a second burst of energy that incinerated two of the dragonfly-children immediately and went on to collapse most of the far wall, sending debris spurting into the courtyard beyond.

  “Run!” Cardoc said. “I’ll free Varina and levitate Burke to the ground. Ready our mounts. There are bound to be more of these creatures!”

  Myrmeen chose not to argue with him. She grabbed Krystin’s hand and started for the collapsed section of wall. Teetering, Lucius placed his hand on his head, the drain of the spells he had used finally catching up with him. The final dragonfly-child circled the room and headed directly for him. Myrmeen released her daughter’s hand, raised her sword, and took three steps in the direction of the mage when the roof suddenly collapsed upon them. Heavy wooden beams smashed to the floor, one of them striking Lucius on the back, knocking him to the ground. Myrmeen raised her hand to her face and looked away as a rain of dust and splinters fell upon her, along with chunks of wooden struts. She was vaguely aware that something else had fallen with the ceiling. A sound had come, separate from the others, the sound of heavy boots striking the carpeted floor.

  The sounds had come from either side of her. Myrmeen’s vision cleared and she saw a man who
was not human standing several feet before her. The creature winked and smiled. She could only see the other man from the periphery of her vision, but she felt him touch her shoulder. His hand glowed and a vibrating current ran through her arm.

  “Krystin, run!” she screamed as she spun and described an arc with her blade that caught the closest of the two men off guard, grazing the side of his head and sending him back, staggering, with his hand to his bloody scalp. She had no idea what had happened to her daughter. With a prayer that the girl was not buried beneath the rubble from the ceiling, Myrmeen looked at the face of the remaining member of the Night Parade. Its face was incredibly pale, with skin as withered as ancient parchment. It had a long, hooked nose and soft blue eyes. Ducking beneath her blade, the creature touched the floor, which instantly transmuted into liquid.

  Myrmeen shouted as the floor gave out and she found herself falling into the darkened chamber below, along with everything else that had been in her childhood home. The impact when she struck bottom knocked the wind from her and she fell on something that bruised her ribs. Her free arm twisted behind her back and she felt a tearing in her shoulder, along with a sudden stab of red-hot liquid. Debris crashed around her, but somehow she had managed to hold onto her sword. She used the weapon as a crutch, digging into the settling wreckage, using its strength to help her climb to a kneeling position. Everything surrounding her was soggy. A sheet of harsh white light came in from the collapsed second story wall. The roof itself was still intact; it was the floor of the attic that had been destroyed.

  “Hello, hello!” a figure said as it sprang up before her. Myrmeen found herself looking into the delighted face of the wrinkled, white-skinned member of the Night Parade who had changed the floor into water. His features ran like candle wax. The creature reached toward her with dripping hands. “Tell me how you want to be immortalized. Glass? Steel? Porcelain? I’m an artist, but I like to be accommodating.” The waxman giggled insanely.

  Myrmeen knew that by the time she drew her sword, the creature would be upon her. She wondered if Lucius or Burke had survived the fall, and if her daughter had made it out alive.

  Suddenly there was a groan from above and the pale man looked up in surprise. “No,” he said, “it’s spreading. It wasn’t supposed to spread!”

  His power was causing the wall beside them to disintegrate, along with the floor upon which Varina was trapped by the tentacled creature. As the wall beside them turned to liquid, Myrmeen saw that heavy support beams had been placed in the next room to help manage the tremendous weight of the monstrosity above. She could not help but wonder why they did not simply allow the creature to stay on the first floor. Then there was no more time for thought. The floor beneath the creature transmuted, sending Varina plunging into the darkness as her massive enemy sank like a weighty sponge. It made no sound as it was impaled on the many support beams, its body and tentacles writhing madly as it lashed out in pain, then surrendered to death.

  Myrmeen had not stood by as a spectator. While the waxlike man had watched the scene in horror, Myrmeen had withdrawn her sword, scrambled back over the debris to put some distance between herself and the creature, and thrown her sword at the pale man’s head. He threw his hands up in alarm, his body twitching as the sword pierced his skull, the weight dragging him down to lie on his side in convulsions.

  She heard a moaning sound, then the pounding of sword hilts on glass from the first floor. Myrmeen looked around and saw something moving within the wreckage. A man.

  “Lucius?” she called as she walked closer.

  The figure rose unsteadily and turned to her. It was the second man who had leapt down from the collapsed floor of the attic. The man had long black hair, azure eyes, and a tremendously well-developed body. He was tall and handsome. His expensive clothing was cut to reveal his washboard stomach, thick arms, and powerful legs. Bright, bluish white energy crackling with green flames engulfed his hand.

  She was unprepared for his speed as he grabbed her arm and yanked her toward him, pulling his hand behind him for an instant, then shoving it forward. The pain she had anticipated never arrived. She heard a scream behind her.

  Looking over her shoulder, Myrmeen saw that the man’s hand was buried deep in the chest of the man with the waxen face. There was no indication that her sword had ever touched him, though she had seen it buried in his skull. The creature writhed for a moment, then fell back in a heap and did not rise again.

  “I am Erin Shandower,” the man who’d grabbed her said. “I am human, like you.” He held out his glowing hand, the talons of energy quickly fading. “This gauntlet is my weapon against them. With it, I can kill almost any—”

  “My daughter,” Myrmeen said. “Help me find her. She was up there when the floor gave out.”

  Shandower nodded, and together they began the search. Across the room, Myrmeen registered that the pounding at the window had stopped. She had assumed that it was Reisz and Ord, trying to get in and free them. Something had made them stop, and that frightened Myrmeen.

  “I’ve found someone. A man,” Shandower said.

  Myrmeen went to his side and helped him to drag Lucius from the waterlogged wreckage. The mage was dazed, barely conscious. She heard the sloshing of footsteps and turned, worried that she would find another enemy. Varina walked past her, desperately plunging her gloved hands into the debris, trying to find her husband’s body. The lithe blonde was frantic. She ignored the gaping cuts lining her legs and back.

  The desperate search went on until Varina gave a single, grief-filled cry. She had found her husband. Miraculously, he was still alive. His eyes flickered open at her touch and he reached up to caress the side of her face. “So beautiful,” he whispered hoarsely.

  Varina lowered her face to his, kissing him gently.

  Myrmeen raised another chunk of debris and realized with disgust that it was a severed wing from one of the dragonfly-children. She dropped it immediately. Krystin had not been trapped below the heavy wings. The tall, beautiful brunette tried to fight off her growing hysteria. She could not have come all this way to find her daughter, only to lose the girl so quickly.

  “I have only one question,” a voice called from the darkened corner of the room. “ ‘My daughter’?”

  Myrmeen spun around in surprise. Straining her eyes, she was able to see Krystin sitting on a pile of wreckage a dozen feet away. She heard footsteps above. The sections of the floor that once had held the dining and kitchen area of Myrmeen’s former dwelling were still intact. Something fell from the crumbling ledge above. Two lengths of rope.

  Reisz and Ord leaned down over the edge. The older man gestured wildly. “Everyone out of there, quickly. There may be more of those things!”

  “Why didn’t you just break through the window on this floor?” Myrmeen asked as her daughter left her perch and joined the others.

  “We couldn’t. The walls, the glass, they’ve all been changed to steel. Something didn’t want us getting in.”

  Myrmeen thought of the creature with the power of transmutation. It had nearly succeeded in trapping them.

  Shandower grasped one of the ropes and tugged. The rope was secure. “I can take the tall one over my shoulder. Then I’ll come back for the one who was hurt.”

  “Good plan,” Reisz said. “Who was hurt and who in Cyric’s hell are you?”

  Ord suddenly noticed Burke’s twisted body and screamed the man’s name. The teenager grabbed one of the ropes and was about to slide down when Reisz threw his arms around the boy and held him back.

  “Ord!” Burke shouted, somehow raising his hand in a fist. “Listen.”

  The boy stopped fighting the older man long enough to shift his gaze back to the pit of wreckage below.

  “I want you to prepare the horses for our escape,” Burke said. “Now.”

  “I’ll come down, I’ll help you—”

  “No. Go outside. I’ll be along.”

  Desperation flashed in the boy�
�s eyes. His true father had been horrible to him. Burke was the only man who had showed him kindness and discipline.

  “Go on,” Burke said. “I’ll not have my only son disobeying my orders in front of all my friends.”

  For a brief instant, Myrmeen was certain that she saw a face looking in on them through the first floor window, which may have had the consistency of steel but was still translucent. Then the face was gone.

  Above, Reisz clamped his hand on Ord’s shoulder. “He’ll be fine.”

  “Go, Ord,” Varina said, wiping away the tears that were suddenly streaming down her face. “We’ll be with you soon.”

  Ord nodded sharply, then turned and vanished. They heard his footsteps recede and Varina said, “We’ll be with you always.”

  Burke stared into her eyes. “You know, don’t you?”

  “I do,” she said, her chest heaving with grief. Burke took her hand. He was not going to last much longer. His injuries were too severe.

  Suddenly a chorus of high-pitched squeals erupted from where the dead tentacled creature rested. Myrmeen looked on in horror as hundreds of fist-sized black pearls cracked open and a swarm of yellow-and-black dragonflies rose in the air. One of the creature’s many layers of skin had fallen away in death, freeing the black eggs.

  “We have to get out, now!” Shandower screamed as he hauled Lucius over his shoulder and began to climb.

  Myrmeen watched Varina, who stared at the swarm as if its arrival had been inevitable.

  “We have to go,” Myrmeen said.

  “I’m not leaving him,” she said. “I won’t leave him to them.”

  Burke touched her hand. “You know what to do.”

  “You be quiet,” she said, her hands trembling.

  “Please,” he said, though he would not beg. “I love you, my wife.”

  “Don’t make me,” she cried.

  Krystin ran for the ropes. Both were free. Reisz already had helped Shandower and Lucius over the side. Without a look back, she started climbing. The swarm buzzed angrily and had started to drift in their direction.