Sinners of Magic

by Lynette Creswell

  ‘Is that who I think it is?’ asked Voleton, rising to his feet.

  The others cast their gaze towards the light and as they watched, the image of Mordorma materialised right before their eyes. The beacon shone for the benefit of the sorcerers and the magicians gave a loud hoot of euphoria when they realised what it actually meant.

  ‘Mordorma’s inside!’ Amafar said, with a huge grin, slapping Amafar on the back from sheer delight. Elveria nodded, looking almost happy, but then the image faded abruptly and their laughter died in their throats.

  ‘What has happened?’ asked Voleton, looking worried. He turned and looked at Elveria for an answer and when none came he kicked at the dirt, sending stones flying across the ground, narrowly missing the sprite.

  Bracken seized the moment.

  ‘My lords,’ he said, placing a leafy finger to his lips, ‘I think I might be just the answer you seek.’

  Elveria stopped in his tracks and grew angry.

  ‘Be off with you, wood sprite,’ he hissed, shooing him away like some pesky fly. ‘We have no time for your childish games.’

  But Bracken appeared unperturbed by the wizard’s unsociable behaviour and simply stood his ground. He grinned instead, showing his earthy, green teeth.

  ‘I know a way into the castle,’ he said, pulling himself up to his full height.

  Elveria’s mouth moved into a deep frown.

  ‘What nonsense this is,’ he scoffed, making his way to his horse.

  ‘I’m serious, if you wish to gain entry into the castle this night you had better follow me,’ Bracken persisted. ‘I’m your only hope.’

  The wizard turned back to face the sprite and was surprised to see the look of determination on his small, green face. Amafar and Voleton moved swiftly to Bracken’s side and this made it clear that he was the only one who thought the sprite was not sincere.

  ‘Will you show us the way?’ asked Voleton, adding a hint of urgency to his voice. ‘You know it is imperative that we get inside.’

  ‘Yes, I will take you,’ said Bracken, his eyes flashing with indignation and his tone was firm when he directed his voice to Elveria.

  ‘You know, if you are ever in need of help from the forest again I suggest you have a little more respect for those who are deemed less important than you, for one day your greatness may well be the pinnacle to your downfall and you will only have yourself to blame.’

  Elveria was shocked into silence for he could not believe his ears. A nerve began to twitch against his temple and, humiliated, he spun on his heels, his mind already overloaded with resentment at the wood sprite’s words. He turned ready to give the sprite a lashing with his tongue, but he tasted only bitter disappointment when he realised Bracken had already melted back into the seclusion of the darkness.

  ‘What is wrong with you?’ asked Voleton in disgust. He brushed past the sorcerer and almost knocked him off his feet as he made his way to his horse. Elveria stood and watched Voleton place his boot inside the metal stirrup and then climb upon the beast.

  ‘Come on,’ Voleton urged him, noting Amafar had already mounted. ‘You have little time to smart from the sting of his words; we must follow him if we are to succeed at all this night.’ He kicked his horse and turned full circle.

  ‘Elveria, you are not the great wizard here and the sprite is probably wiser than you think.’

  Something snapped inside Elveria’s brain and his fury rested at Voleton’s feet. He reached up and seized the reins, giving them a sharp tug, causing the horse to rear up. Before he knew what was happening, Voleton was on the ground and Elveria was on top of him, pummelling him with his huge, great fists. Punches rained down on his head and body, taking the younger mage’s breath away, and blood burst from his lip when an indiscriminate punch hit him full force on the mouth.

  ‘Damn you!’ shouted Amafar, dragging Elveria away. ‘We should not be fighting amongst ourselves.’

  Elveria allowed Amafar to pull him away and, with some resistance, backed off. His breathing was laboured from the exertion of the fight and his energy had been replaced with despair. Amafar offered his hand to Voleton who gratefully took it. He jumped to his feet and cricked his neck from side to side and then checked his jaw for any sign of a fracture. Once satisfied he would live to fight another day, he walked over to his horse and grabbed the reins. Hatred flashed from his bloodshot eyes towards Elveria and for a second the elder mage felt a pang of shame.

  Eventually the three wizards mounted their horses and, with some reluctance from Elveria, followed Bracken into the forest. The wind was howling between the trees, spooking the horses, but the sorcerers themselves felt nothing except the adrenalin that shot fire through their veins. Riding in-between the trees they dodged twisted roots and several low branches, gripping their horses’ thick manes until they arrived at the north side of the castle. They caught their breath and then they dismounted. Surprisingly, the undergrowth was still quite dense and Bracken stood close to a large elm tree. He looked rather confident whilst his body rustled in the strengthening breeze and he was clearly unaffected by the harsh ride the wizards endured, for he had been carried along by the wind.

  ‘You can get inside the castle through there,’ said Bracken, clapping his hands to bring a halo of fireflies to his side. He nodded towards the forest and they flew off into the direction of where his finger now pointed. They lit the way for the others to follow and in the midst of a dark patch of tangled ivy and wild roses they showed the mages a door which lay hidden.

  Bracken’s chest swelled.

  ‘Forusian has dozens of these hiding places all through the forest, but only this one is actually linked to the castle itself.’

  ‘Where in the castle does it lead?’ asked Amafar.

  ‘That I cannot tell you, my lord,’ said Bracken, shrugging his shoulders. ‘I am bound to the forest therefore I have never been able to go so far.’

  ‘How do we get inside?’ asked Elveria, when he pushed at the door and it didn’t move.

  ‘The opening is there for the trained eye,’ said Bracken, with a smug grin; it was clear he was enjoying being the centre of attention and his dislike for Elveria was no longer contained.

  He brushed Elveria to one side and once the mage had stepped away he reached up and grabbed hold of the ivy without breaking the vine. There came a strange swish from the leaves before the ivy started curling around the wood sprite’s hand. Bracken twisted the vine and pushed at the door and this time the door fell away to reveal a dark corridor. The three wizards hesitated for only the briefest of seconds before lunging forward and entering it, but Bracken did not follow.

  Voleton turned and caught the sadness in the young sprite’s eyes.

  ‘You have done well, my young friend,’ he said, understanding his plight.

  ‘Just tell Bridgemear it was me who showed you the way in,’ he said, suddenly beaming. ‘I told him he couldn’t do it alone and I was right.’

  Voleton smiled and shot a quick glance behind him to check on the others’ progress.

  ‘He needs us all,’ he said, drawing his sword, ‘but I will ensure he knows what you have done for us this night.’

  Bracken grinned. ‘I’m always willing to help,’ he replied, but Voleton was gone.

  He touched the ivy with his fingertips and the creeping vines and tendrils wrapped themselves around the door and pulled it shut, removing any trace of the entranceway, and he turned away, feeling a moment of contentment. A sudden gust of wind blew towards him and he exploded into a thousand billowing leaves before vanishing once again into the very heart of the forest.

  *

  Bridgemear sensed they were doomed. They had crossed the threshold into the anatomy unit and entered a place which was way beyond anything they could have ever imagined. As sleek as cats, they each slipped between the empty caskets without a sound and Bridgemear was not the only one to notice they were all lacking their hideous cargo.

  ‘I feel a bad omen,
’ said Amella, when her eyes caught his.

  Bridgemear nodded, looking grim.

  ‘Try not to be afraid,’ he said, reaching out and squeezing her hand. ‘We must at least try to get through this together.’

  She gave him a weak smile, her face was pale and her hair was damp with moisture. Beads of sweat ran down her cheek and she wiped them away with the back of her hand and then brushed her hair away from her face, revealing her beautiful green eyes.

  Bridgemear held his breath; she was all he had ever wanted and he could have so easily whisked her into his arms and taken her to somewhere safe, but instead he tightened his grip on his sword and beckoned for them to move on.

  ‘Look, it’s all gone!’ cried Mordorma, pointing towards the ceiling.

  They all looked up and sure enough, where there was once a vast roof, only a gaping hole remained. Mordorma saw the crimson clouds and he called out to the others to turn back.

  ‘We must leave at once,’ he said, in a panic, ‘don’t you see, demons are being summoned.’

  A distant chanting reached his ears and he touched Bridgemear’s arm to grab his attention and warn him that he could see Forusian, but it was clear by Bridgemear’s expression that he had seen him too. With their senses heightened, they each made their way closer to where Forusian stood with his back towards them.

  As they approached, the air turned thick and their throats became as dry as sandpaper. Bridgemear was the first to spot a young girl with long, red hair suspended in the air and he realised she was tied to some kind of stake. He watched her floating before the evil king and heard her weeping and he felt his gut twist. He was still quite far away, but he instinctively knew without question that the girl was his own flesh and blood.

  He tried to stop Amella from seeing Crystal by blocking her view and pressing his hand to her chest but she pushed his hand away and forced herself past him to see and as soon as her eyes fell on her daughter her whole body turned to jelly. She made a tiny whimper and Bridgemear grabbed her and cupped her mouth with his hand and she bit his finger so hard to stop the scream that was trying to explode in the back of her throat that she drew blood. Her legs collapsed beneath her but he held her fast, dragging her back into the shadows and holding her there until he thought it was safe to let her go.

  Eventually, when she was much calmer, Bridgemear allowed her to return to where Mordorma and Amadeus were waiting for them and they each saw how the clouds were penetrating the tower and descending in from the sky. At first it had given the impression of a fine mist but now something far more sinister was heading towards Crystal’s body. Then out of the blue came a horrific crack of thunder and a spear of lightning bolted inside the tower and hit the stake where Crystal was still tied. Bright coloured sparks flew like fireworks into the atmosphere and Crystal screamed in terror when the smell of burning flesh filled the air.

  Bridgemear saw an aura of pure, white light surround Crystal’s body and he looked aghast.

  ‘He’s going to take all her powers for himself,’ he gasped, sounding incredulous. ‘For all that is magical, we must never let that happen!’

  Mordorma couldn’t stand it a moment longer and was the first to take matters into his own hands. He drew away from the shadows to force a beam of light from his fingertips out into the night sky. The light was so bright it was blinding and the menacing clouds rushed to suffocate the beam, but the glow was much too powerful and he managed to hold the clouds at bay long enough to signal his whereabouts to Elveria and the others.

  ‘How did you escape?’ shouted Forusian when he espied Mordorma out of the corner of his eye. He turned to face him, his eyes searching for Amadeus and his black pupils shone like jet.

  ‘Never mind that, what the hell do you think you are doing?’ demanded Mordorma, walking briskly towards him. Forusian moved away from the centre of the pit and his long coat swished madly around his legs.

  ‘Wouldn’t you like to know, but then why should I waste my time with someone who is nothing more than an ignorant fool,’ he hissed, when Mordorma was no more than twenty feet away. ‘Do you really think I have time for this?’

  ‘I will not let you continue with this atrocity against the girl,’ shouted Mordorma, making a run for it. Forusian laughed like a mad man. ‘Oh really, Mordorma, and do you think you’re going to stop me? Why, you are no match for me!’

  ‘I may not be strong enough to destroy you on my own, not with the evil that possesses your soul, but there are others who will come and crush you into fine dust.’ Anger was making Mordorma sweat but he continued to deliberately distract Forusian to enable the others to move closer without hopefully being seen.

  Forusian allowed himself a sly smile.

  ‘Your kind have had it too good for too long, it’s time I put you in your place,’ he hissed. ‘You’ve all spent too many years cosseted by the rules of the Elders, with all your terrible secrets tucked away in other worlds in the hope that no one would ever find out.’

  ‘And you had to be the one to open Pandora’s Box?’

  ‘Oh yes, for as you now realise, I had the most to gain.’

  He raised the golden spear which he still held in his hand and pointed it directly at Mordorma’s chest. He tossed his head and a missile of fire shot from the spear and knocked Mordorma straight off his feet. The surprised mage looked down and saw his clothes were set alight. Panic filled his throat when he realised he was on fire and it seemed like an eternity until he came to his senses and rolled over in the dirt, smacking at the flames with his bare hands until he forced them out. He was winded but he scrambled swiftly to his feet, his eyes bright with fury.

  Mordorma’s hand produced a powerful force of energy and Forusian circled the spear in the air to produce his own. Both elements of magic clashed together, but the spear’s magic was far stronger and Mordorma was thrown into the air by its power. His arms shot above his head and he was thrown bodily to a pinnacle high up in the stone and was instantly shackled to what was left of a wall of rock. Furiously he fought to free himself, but it was no use for his bonds dug deep into his flesh, causing him to wince in pain, and the more he fought the tighter they became until he could no longer feel his wrists.

  ‘You should not have come here,’ Forusian sneered, lowering the spear to his side. ‘This was never your fight and now I have no choice but to end what is turning out to be a very tiresome interlude.’

  Amadeus watched what was happening and a trickle of fear ran down his spine and he made himself ready to fight. He knew he was no match for the sorcerer but he could not stand by and do nothing. Bridgemear signalled to him to stay put and Amadeus’s eyes flashed in defiance before the look on Bridgemear’s face forced him to do as he was told. Reluctantly, he forced a nod of acknowledgement and moved closer to Bridgemear’s side. When he was close enough, Bridgemear grabbed him by the scruff of the neck, dragging him closer to the shadows. The blood drained from his face when he saw red fury burning in Bridgemear’s eyes.

  ‘You do nothing without my say so,’ Bridgemear hissed through gritted teeth. ‘You’re no use to anyone dead.’

  A bloodcurdling shriek caused them all to snap their attention towards Crystal. A strong wind entered the anatomy unit, the cold brushing against their skin when Abbadon flew down and entered through the gaping hole which once held the roof. He soared and swooped around Crystal’s body, howling with pleasure when he recognised his latest victim, sending her into a terrified panic, for she had met this terrible demon once before and Gzhel’s warning ran through her tortured mind. Death shivered with pleasure for he’d stumbled upon the one who’d taken the boy from him and now she would pay for doing so.

  Forusian watched with interest whilst the demon terrorised his sacrifice until he started to grow bored.

  ‘There’s really no need to frighten her to the extreme; come, stand by my side so we can begin,’ he said, beckoning the demon with his index finger.

  Abbadon ignored him, still overcome wit
h euphoria at finding the girl so soon.

  ‘I demand you, come to me!’ snapped Forusian, beginning to lose his temper. ‘We have struck a deal,’ he shouted, baring his teeth like a wild animal. ‘Now, let’s get down to business or I will find another to do my bidding!’ The icy chill in his voice made Abbadon hesitate, but not before he had tasted her fear with his foul tongue.

  ‘Very well,’ he howled, ‘I am ready to take her for my own.’

  Abbadon flew to his side then took the spear from Forusian’s grasp and dropped it to the ground. The floor was covered with debris and he brushed some of the small stones to the side with his skeletal feet, then drew seven symbols which matched the ones imprinted on the spear into the dirt. He shut his eyes tight and let out a piercing howl.

  A ghoulish cry burst from the pit and the spear exploded, raining a thousand glistening shards of magic upon the stone. Each crudely drawn symbol glowed golden, embedded with the remnants of the bewitched lancet. The glow intensified and then images of seven demonic creatures materialised before their very eyes.

  Forusian leaned forward to get a closer look, fascinated by what had manifested before him, and the atmosphere crackled with anticipation.

  Crystal’s body broke into a violent spasm the second the demons fixed their burning gaze upon her and she felt her body shake with protest when they tried to force their way inside her. Her vision blurred and her eyes flickered from side to side before she was forced into a deep trance. Her body started to revolve, turning ninety degrees and she hovered, face down over the pit. The jewel clasped securely around her neck started to glow to protect her and the demons were unable to enter her body and so they tried to sap her life force from outside of her instead.

  The light from the necklace became so bright that it sent a beam of light towards the pit and as soon as it touched the red-hot liquid, something changed. A wave rose and washed over the bouncing limbs and the body parts rushed together and became joined. Legs found needed torsos and arms splashed about for a head. Within minutes gruesome bodies were climbing out of the chasm, grotesquely deformed and hideous to the eye, and they formed into ranks like soldiers. Their hands were enormous as were their heads, but their bodies were of different sizes with twisted spines and dislocated limbs, all disgusting freaks of Forusian’s making.