Sons of Evil: Book 1 Book of Dread

by Adams, David

  Darius was hunched over while he ate, as if a great weight pressed upon him. Suddenly his head shot up and he looked right and left, searching. He shook his head, started to drop his chin again, then became fully alert once more. “Anybody else hear that?”

  “Hear what?” Adrianna asked.

  Darius rose slowly, squinting to see into the distance. He started to move forward. “A voice.”

  Adrianna looked from Silas to Barlow, both of whom indicated they had heard nothing. Darius wasn’t waiting for a response. “Darius, wait.” Her words did not deter him, so she quickly followed.

  When she closed on him, he held up a finger, asking for silence. “There,” he said.

  She shook her head. “Sorry.”

  He spared her one swift glance, then trudged on.

  Barlow and Silas caught up to them, but kept silent at Adrianna’s signal.

  Darius moved with more purpose, his steps quick, his eyes alert. He reached a small grove of trees and passed through quickly, certain the direction he chose was the right one. On the other side of the grouping of trees he came to an abrupt halt.

  Luke stood a dozen yards ahead, looking as he had in death, save that his eyes were open and alive. He stood at the edge of a hole, which was five feet in diameter on average, but which grew and contracted, as if drawing breath. It seemed not an empty space, but rather a living presence.

  Adrianna gasped at the sight of Luke. Silas crossed himself and Barlow drew his sword.

  Gabriel was alive with light.

  “Why?” Luke asked. “Why did you leave me behind?”

  “I didn’t mean to,” said Darius. “I—”

  “Don’t talk to him, Darius,” Barlow said. “It’s a trick.”

  Barlow started forward, but Silas held him back. “Let’s see where this goes,” the cleric whispered.

  “That’s not Luke,” Barlow protested, showing the glowing sword to end any further argument.

  “I know. But let’s see what it wants. We might learn something.”

  Barlow’s expression showed his displeasure with this proposed course of action, but he held his position, at least for now.

  “You let me die,” Luke said to his brother.

  “No,” said Darius. “You know that’s not true.”

  “I’m so empty now. So cold and alone. Do you know what it’s like to be truly alone? You let me die, and now I am…nothing. I do not feel…anything. I am just empty.”

  Darius opened his mouth, but all that came out was a pitiful choking sound. He closed his eyes, hoping the vision before him would vanish.

  “There is nothing now, there was nothing before. We are just empty shells. Our lives mean nothing.”

  Barlow started to voice an argument, but this time it was Adrianna that stopped him. “Have you returned to tell us this?” she asked.

  “It matters little,” Luke replied. “Our efforts here will change nothing. This world goes its way, random chaos the only constant. And when life ends…there is no more.”

  “But you being here would prove there is,” Adrianna said.

  “Words,” Luke said. “Useless words.”

  “Be gone, foul spirit,” Barlow said, raising Gabriel. The sword blazed brightly.

  Luke held his hands up to ward off the glare. Suddenly the blackness leapt at his legs, strands like ropes entwining him and pulling him to the ground. He clawed at the earth and screamed, “Help me, Darius! Don’t let them take me back!”

  Darius sprang to his brother’s rescue, but Silas broke forward at the same time. The cleric caught the younger man some ten feet from where Luke thrashed to keep free of the pit, wrestling him to the ground.

  “Silas—” Darius protested.

  “It’s a trap, son. Think!”

  Barlow, once released by Silas, had raced forward as well. He flew past his struggling companions and reached Luke, his sword held high. He brought it down with deadly accuracy, his target not the black cords that pulled at Luke, but rather Luke himself.

  “No!” Darius screamed.

  Gabriel easily sliced through Luke. The strands from the pit yanked his lower body back into the underworld, but his upper torso remained. It smoked and faded, as had the bodies of the other denizens of the nether regions they had seen killed on this mortal plane, but before it was gone, just for an instant, the shape of a demon was visible.

  Silas still held Darius fast. “Just an illusion,” he told him. “You saw its real form. That wasn’t your brother.”

  Darius lay still for a moment, then said, “I’m okay, Silas. You can let me up.”

  As Silas helped him to is feet, the opening of the pit grew smaller and then finally closed. As it drew shut, Barlow’s sword lost its glow. He probed the area with Gabriel’s tip, the ground substantial and apparently unchanged.

  “How did it do that?” Darius asked, his voice somewhere between fear and anger. “How could it look like Luke? Speak like Luke?”

  “Must have taken memories from our minds, likely yours, as you were closest to him,” Barlow speculated with a deep frown on his face.

  “But why?”

  “Same reason as for the other attacks. Trying to get the book back. Trying to turn us aside.”

  “I thought—” Darius had to gather himself before he could continue. “I only thought it was him, alive, for a second. Foolish hope, I suppose. But then…I was afraid it was him, returning from down below.”

  “It wasn’t,” Silas said. “You saw what it really was.”

  “But what if—”

  “Darius, regardless of what any of us believe about the afterlife and what might be in store for us, that was not Luke. Everything that demon said was meant to make us lose hope, to question whether anything we did mattered. Don’t let it win by believing the message because of the form it took.”

  Adrianna added, “If it had appeared in its true form and said the same things, would you have thought them anything other than purposeful lies?”

  “No,” Darius admitted. “You’re right, all of you.” He rubbed a hand roughly over his face three times, then said. “Can we just get out of here? Please.”

  “My thought exactly,” Barlow answered.

  As they moved on, Adrianna leaned close to Silas. “If it knew where we were and what form to take…”

  “I know,” Silas said. “We’re being watched.”

  *

  Evening came, and although they sat for a meal they found no rest. A sense of creeping dread was upon them, a fear that something malevolent was close, waiting. Their thoughts grew darker with each passing hour, the vision of Luke a harbinger of doom and their task fraught with unimaginable peril. It was hardest on Darius. Regardless of what he told himself about what they had seen earlier in the day, he couldn’t shake the image of his brother blaming him for his death, and then dying all over again while he watched helplessly. He worried that his sister and parents might already have met a similar fate, and the thought of his own death, more likely all the time in his own mind, didn’t bother him as much as the knowledge that the book would go back to its previous owner, and all this suffering and death would have been for nothing.

  Darius’ traveling companions were better equipped to deal with the gloom that pressed on their minds. They were older, of course, and it had not been their brother who had fallen and whose image was used to haunt them. More importantly, they each had a mental discipline beyond that of an average person, Adrianna’s from her studies of magic, the men from their strong faith. As such they could push back against the dark cloud threatening to envelop them all, and though they couldn’t name the enemy they currently faced, they knew they were in a battle nonetheless, a battle fought not with sword, staff, and magic, but in their minds. Knowing they were in such a fight was a great asset in their defense, but it was no guarantee of victory. The enemy appeared to be a powerful one.

  Barlow watched Darius eat, the younger man spending more time looking at the ground than anywhe
re else, and taking his food in small, slow bites, going through the routine more for show than to sate any hunger. Barlow wanted to draw Darius’ thoughts from wherever they were to somewhere else, somewhere safer. “You know,” he said, “when we get back, one thing I’m really looking forward to is eating a nice, warm loaf of bread, right out of the oven.” He laughed at himself. “Seems a bit odd, but that’s what I miss, not the great feast.”

  Darius lifted his head long enough to offer a perfunctory smile.

  “I know what you mean,” Adrianna said, picking up on Barlow’s approach. “I find myself wanting a simple bowl of stew.”

  “Not me,” Silas said, slapping at his stomach. “I want the works…roast pig, potatoes, vegetables, maybe three desserts. Had been meaning to lose a little weight, so this is all working out, but still…”

  They all laughed softly, drawing it out, hoping Darius would join in in some way. After a few seconds of uncomfortable silence, Adrianna asked, “How about you, Darius? What do you miss?”

  “What?” he mumbled as he stirred himself. “Oh…nothing special. My mom’s cooking, I guess. I don’t miss army food.”

  Any pleasure they felt at this brief glimmer of his normal personality was quickly dashed when he rose and solemnly said, “I’ll take the watch. The whole thing. I won’t be able to sleep tonight. You three alternate.” He moved away and started a slow, lazy circle around the camp, his gaze still downward.

  Silas watched him for a time, then said, “I’m not sure what else to do. We all feel it, but none more so than him. It feels like he’s slipping away.”

  “If whatever it is that stalks us would only show itself…,” Barlow said with a frustrated shake of his head.

  Silas was pleased his friend had drawn the same conclusion he and Adrianna had earlier about a real enemy stalking them, but he shared Barlow’s frustration. “Maybe with time. Right now, he’s content to wear us down.”

  “ ‘He?’ ” Adrianna asked.

  Silas shrugged. “I don’t know anything, not even a guess. Just have to call him—it—something.”

  “I’d call him a pain in the—”

  “Adrianna,” Silas warned.

  “Any chance the elves can help?”

  “I don’t know. I believe they’ll grant us refuge, at least for a time. Hopefully that will aid us.”

  “I wish you sounded more certain,” Barlow commented.

  “So do I,” Silas replied.

  “If that’s our best hope—assuming our enemy won’t show himself—I propose we continue on our way. Whatever’s affecting Darius is working on all of us. I don’t think I’ll be able to find sleep tonight, either.”

  “Lack of sleep can play its own tricks on the mind,” Barlow said.

  “True,” said Silas. “But I fear I’ve got to count myself with those who will not sleep tonight. Perhaps if you want you can catch a few hours while we patrol. Darius’ mind isn’t on his work anyway. He won’t make much of a guard tonight.”

  “That’s okay,” Barlow said. “Guess I was just making a point that we’ll need to be extra cautious. I don’t think I can sleep either. I’m having the nightmares, too.”

  None had openly admitted as much, but it was easy to tell no one had been sleeping well. They had all been plagued by horrible images in their dreams for days, vivid dreams even the light of day struggled to chase away.

  After they gathered their things they told Darius they were of like mind as to moving on. He brightened at the news, if only for a moment. It was the closest thing to a smile they’d seen on his face all day.

  The moon was in the first quarter, and was frequently obscured by clouds, so its light was insufficient for travel in wooded areas. Adrianna used her magic to create a globe of light to lead them. As the night wore on and the lack of sleep started to dull their minds, these magic spheres came to stand as symbols of the general mental state of the group. At first strong and consistent, they grew less intense and sometimes winked out completely. When this happened they were forced to pause while Adrianna gathered herself for another try. For this and a myriad of other reasons, they were all greatly relieved when dawn lit the sky.

  They ignored breakfast and stumbled on through the morning, the tiredness of their minds worse than that of their bodies, but none of them were willing to take a break. The elven wood became an obsession, a possible way out of the dark dread that threatened to swallow them, and they drove themselves to reach it before their stamina gave out completely.

  Late morning a wood came into view, large enough that they did not want to try to pass around, but of such a sickly hue that Darius felt his heart sink upon seeing it. “Please tell me that’s not Auerl Forest.”

  “It’s not,” said Silas. “The trees of that ancient wood are far taller. But it looks like we’ll have to pass through it.”

  “I can live with that. Just didn’t want that to be our final destination. I guess I’m hoping for something a little more uplifting.”

  “We all are,” Adrianna told him.

  The wood was a fairly dense one, but the trees had dropped a large percentage of their leaves, and those remaining had gone dark, more black than green now. No one asked if it might be some aspect of this colder clime, perhaps suggesting that an early chill had caused the trees to shed their leaves, and that the black color was just the northern equivalent of the reds, oranges, and yellows soon to be on display further south. They could sense there was nothing natural to the wood’s deterioration, the decay like that they had seen in the crops and grass. As they neared they noted the place had a musty, unclean smell.

  Barlow looked right and left. “Sure wish we could go around, but it could be a long detour.”

  “At least it’ll help us keep a quick pace,” Silas said. “The sooner we’re through, the better.”

  They plunged in, and were soon enough used to the smell. This particular wood was a depressing place, but they felt little worse than they had over the last few days, and enough light trickled in to keep their way lit. Their pace was brisk, and they even ate the small lunch they allowed themselves while they marched. As the sun started to drop further in the west, they found they were nearly running, wanting to be free of this place before nightfall. They poured all their energy into moving forward, and despite their fears and the nightmares they had experienced, they knew that if they could make it to open spaces this night that a sleep born of exhaustion would come to each of them.

  Darius found himself taking small groups of steps with his eyes closed, almost able to convince himself it gave him a momentary respite from his growing dizziness and the headache forming behind his left eye. Occasionally he had to redirect himself when he opened his eyes again, finding he had veered a bit from the path the others were taking through the woods. At least he hadn’t come close to walking into a tree.

  It was after one of these dark intervals that Darius caught a flash of movement above him, and then something thudded off his neck and upper back. He wheeled about and saw one of the little demon hunters scampering behind a tree. It had the book.

  “Hey!” Darius shouted, half at the creature and half to alert his companions. He charged the little monster, which paused a few beats before darting off.

  Silas saw what it was just before it moved. “It has the book!” he called to the others as he started to follow Darius.

  “Wait!” Adrianna cried, but too late. Silas was already in hot pursuit and Barlow ran by without heeding her request or asking why it was made.

  Darius heard the calls and shouts behind him, but being the closest his focus was solely on the pursuit. If he got help, all the better, but he couldn’t risk losing sight of the little demon. He thought it could easily outrun him, at least over a short distance, and certainly it was more nimble than he was, but the book apparently slowed it and he found he could keep up. If he could guess right on one of the trees they dodged around, he just might have a chance…

  Silas’ first few steps ha
d been in direct pursuit of Darius, but once he spotted the demon sneaking off to the left while Darius continued running to the right, he went for the book. He considered yelling for Darius to come back, but thought he might have a better chance of surprising the demon if he kept silent. The demon was trying to slink away, confirming his thought. He stealthily followed.

  Barlow couldn’t tell if his two friends had gone daft from the lack of sleep, or were brilliantly trying to flank the demon, which was sneaking off in almost a straight line while the men pursuing it went left and right. He shook his head, thinking it more likely to be the former. He raced after it, knowing his old, tired legs were the only chance left at saving their quest.

  Adrianna called out two more times, to no avail. Seeing her companions moving off in all directions, her worst fear was realized: they had been separated. Unsure which way to go, or whether she should simply remain where she was in case one or more of the others could retrace their steps, it was only a matter of seconds before her hesitation meant she was as alone as the others. She called once more, her voice not carrying far, and got no reply. A stillness came over the wood, a silence that made her stomach tighten.

  *

  Darius stopped short and tried to still his heavy breathing. He had lost it, the demon darting around a pair of trees, and now…

  Hearing a noise to his left, he turned, hoping he had gotten lucky, but it wasn’t the demon, nor one of his companions. It was Sasha.

  She waited for him as Luke had, her body broken but her eyes alive, her mournful expression boring into his soul.

  He took two steps toward her, mouthing her name. He stopped and gripped the hilt of his sword, but refrained from drawing it. “I know it isn’t you.”

  “But it is. Luke and I are together now, in death.”

  Darius managed two more steps and drew his sword, but his arm seemed to have lost its strength. The sword’s point dipped and touched the ground.