by Gray, C. M.
‘I’m tired of your human bungling and decided to take control of this fiasco you call a manhunt.’ Belial spat on the deck and a fleck attached itself to Matheus’s boot.’ Five children have bested you and I mean to stop them once and for all. They come now to this town and it is here that we will finish this charade.’ He walked to the side of the boat and studied the variety of vessels around him. ‘Somewhere in this harbour they have a boat and we have to stop it leaving. I shall be watching and giving my…’ he came closer to Matheus. ‘…advice.’ A fetid breath of pure Evil accompanied the softly spoken word causing Matheus to sway a little but he managed to remain on his feet.
‘I’m sure that will be most constructive.’ Matheus coughed, still wavering slightly as he fought the urge to vomit.
Belial slapped the back of his hand across the Hawk’s face, sending him spinning across the deck. Matheus glared up at Belial, his eyes narrowing. Saying nothing, he waited to see what the demon king would do next.
But then Bartholomew Bask's wheezing form finally arriving from the cabins below broke the moment. He stopped and mopped his brow before noticing the scene in front of him. His eyes darted from Matheus Hawk lying prone on the deck with blood dripping from his mouth, to the hunched figure of Belial breathing heavily, watched over by three hooded demons. The thought of returning down the stairway briefly occurred to him, and his head did turn back towards the hatch, but he knew it wasn’t really an option.
‘Mr Bask how nice of you to join us.’ Belial strode over and grabbed Bartholomew’s cheek in a painful pinch, pulling the frightened merchant towards him.
‘How can we be of service to you?’ squeaked Bartholomew, standing up on tiptoes. Belial smiled and brought his lips close to Bartholomew’s ear.
‘Some children will be arriving here soon, they will get on one of these boats and together we will stop them,’ he hissed. ‘Get this boat ready to move the moment we sight them, they have something I need and then I want them dead.’ He twisted Bartholomew’s cheek even tighter then leaned closer and bit his ear.
Bartholomew let out a squeal. ‘Eeeeek! They have plenty of mine as well,’ he danced up on his toes, sobbing. ‘We’re here for the same reason so why are you treating me like this?’ His high-pitched voice carried over the silent ship.
Belial pondered the question. ‘I think I’ve decided that I don’t like humans very much, now get this boat ready, and come closer to the harbour mouth, I want to be able to see every boat that leaves.’ He pushed Bartholomew away. Walking to the side rail, the demon king stood gazing out over the harbour without saying another word.
Matheus picked himself up, dusted himself down and cast an icy glare towards Belial. Bartholomew grabbed his arm but Matheus shook it off.
‘What are we going to do?’ hissed Bartholomew. His cheek and neck were both red, already showing signs of bruising. A single drop of blood hung from his ear.
‘We shall stop those brats and deal with this…’ Matheus waved a hand towards Belial’s back, ‘…later.’
‘Bartholomew’s mouth dropped open. ‘Later, later, what do you mean later? That…that thing, laid his hands upon me, beat you down and has threatened our lives. What do you mean deal with it later?’ he hissed trying hard to keep his voice low while casting an eye towards the three silent figures.
‘Just do what he says and ask the captain to move the ship. I don’t think we’ll have any more outbursts from our friend Mr Belial for a while. He was simply flexing his muscles, letting us know who’s boss, that’s all.’
Bartholomew stared at Matheus Hawk with something approaching pleading in his eyes. ‘For the love of the Source, man, if you can do something…anything, then just do it. I don’t think the boss likes us and I’m very sure I don’t like him.’
‘Tell the captain to move us, Mr Bask, everything will happen in its own good time; it always does.’
Bartholomew gave an exasperated sigh and headed for the hatchway, muttering to himself.
****
Chapter 17
The Flight Of The Griffin
Mahra flew silently over the gateway to Minster town, the moon casting her dancing shadow across the silvery pathway. She circled several times before returning to where Loras and Quint were hiding with the others amongst the trees, the snowy owl blurring into the shape of the girl.
‘There’s nobody in sight. The light is on in the Custom’s house again but I can’t see him in his bed. Maybe we should wait a while?’
‘No, let’s just do it,’ said Quint, ‘but very quietly, let's try not to wake anybody, all right?’ With a nod to Groober, four of the Hidden ran out dragging a hastily constructed ladder. They propped it up against the gate, braced the bottom and Loras ran up and gently dropped over to look back at Quint through the gate. Quint was about to move when he felt Groober tug on his cloak.
‘What will you say when you hear evil stories of the Hidden? Will you be our friends when you return to the heart of ignorance?’ Quint glanced up as Loras hissed at him, urging him to come quickly, then turned back and smiled down at the Groober.
‘We shall tell the world to listen with their hearts when they meet you, and that the stories are all untrue.’
Groober tried hard to smile. ‘Looks can be deceiving, can’t they, the same as nasty stories. The Hidden have learned never to judge another by his looks. You’re all so…ugly…yet we bid you welcome … and you showed us you were as honest and true as any Hidden, I’m glad that we did, I hope the world of man will welcome us.’ With a wave he disappeared back into the shadows leaving Quint a little bemused. They thought we were ugly!
‘Come on,’ hissed Loras.
Quint dropped over the gate, the ladder was quickly withdrawn, and the last of the Hidden disappeared back down the path.
The two friends made their way through the twisting streets moving from shadow to shadow with the snowy white owl flying ahead, scanning for late night walkers - but all was still and silent in Minster town.
The harbour, when they got there, was also deserted. Only the gentle slap of water against hulls and occasional rattle of ropes against masts disturbed the silence of the night. It was only as they came within sight of the heavily disguised Griffin that a man stepped out onto the path in front of them stopping them short; a second and then a third quickly joined him. Quint and Loras spun around ready to run, but three armed men stepped out from behind them as well. A trap! Turning back towards The Griffin they saw yet another man had joined the others, the unmistakably stout figure of Bartholomew Bask. His grinning face lit up from the light of a smoky oil lamp held up in front of him.
‘Well, well, well, I do think we have two of our thieves, boys. Where are your other shipmates, yer ragamuffin scum? I was hoping to hang you all together.’ He waddled forward without waiting for an answer. ‘You have some property of mine and I’d like it back. How about you return it and we just let you go?’ He leered at them, his face unnaturally yellow in the glow from the lamp. One of the men sniggered and Bartholomew slapped the back of his hand against his chest to silence him. ‘Well?’
‘Close your eyes,’ whispered Loras. Quint had scarcely done so when a bright flash filled the night between them. All but Quint and Loras were momentarily blinded and they quickly used the opportunity to push past the startled merchant and his men. They had made it halfway up the harbour path before a shout came and an arrow clattered on the stones ahead of them. Both dived for cover behind an upturned boat. The sound of Bartholomew shrieking in rage could be heard coming towards them.
‘If you’ve got any other good ideas, please feel free to use them,’ urged Quint. The voices were getting closer and Loras chanced a peek over the top of the boat. The merchant was beating the sailors ahead of him, urging them on as they searched the pathway with all its possible hiding places. Loras ducked back down again.
‘Listen, there are several barrels a few paces in front of where they are, if you can burst one I can turn what
ever’s inside into steam and blind them to our escape again.’
‘An arrow will just stick into the barrel, it’s not going to blow it up, and what if it’s fire oil inside, the whole harbour might go up in flames. We may even burn the whole town down!’ Quint was fingering an arrow nervously as the need to fire it and start hurting people got closer and closer.
‘They’re not barrels of fire oil, Quint. We had fire oil on The Griffin. Those barrels are larger. They’re something else. Whatever it is, I won’t set it ablaze, I’m only going to turn it to steam, there is a difference.’ Loras wrapped his hand around the arrow that Quint was holding and a blue glow enveloped it. ‘There, now it will turn heavy upon impact and the barrel will burst open. Just be sure to put as much force behind it as you can.’
Quint stood up and in one fluid movement fired his arrow at the stack of barrels, still a little in front of the approaching sailors. The arrow hit one of the bottom barrels and it exploded with a dull thud then a crash turning it into splinters of wood and liquid, which quickly spread with a whoosh across the path. The arrow continued on, bursting another barrel behind it, and a third barrel fell from the top stack breaking on the floor. The sailors drew back in shock and Merchant Bask dived for cover, believing he was under attack.
‘Protect me! Protect me!’ he whined from behind a pile of crates. There was a strange whumping sound and the air immediately filled with a noxious smelling cloud. The sailors staggered in retreat, pulling their shirts up over their noses as Bartholomew got up screaming, ‘Get your lazy cowardly carcasses back through that mist and find those brats.’ Though it was no good, the path for the moment, was blocked.
From up on the roof of a warehouse, Mahra watched the antics of Quint and Loras and was relieved to see they hadn’t, as yet, come to any harm. She could see several boats coming across from the large ship, anchored close to the harbour mouth, The Griffin, it seemed, was trapped. She took off with a beat of her wings gliding above the confusion and over to the dirty broken fishing boat that was the heavily disguised Griffin. Quint and Loras had just clambered down the hatchway as she landed changing to her human form; she followed them down, closing the hatch softly behind her. Inside, The Griffin was the same as they’d left it, both Quint and Loras were sitting slumped and exhausted at the table.
‘What are we going to do now?’ asked Quint glancing up.
‘Well the book said we’d fly out, but I’m the only thing that can fly around here.’ Mahra was as nervous as Quint. She peeked out of the porthole as the sounds of shouting and angry conversations could be heard getting closer.
Loras stood, his face creased in thought. ‘Well whatever we do, we have to do it soon ’cos they’re going to be searching all of these boats. Let’s cast off from the harbour. At least, it’ll buy us a little time while I think on this.’ He headed for his cabin to look something up in one of his books as Quint and Mahra climbed up through the hatch.
‘They’re getting closer,’ whispered Quint as he crept out keeping low. Slipping the ropes holding The Griffin to the quayside, he gave a push on the harbour wall and the little boat began to drift out. Moments later, a shout of alarm went up from the sailors in a rowing boat and Bartholomew’s group on the harbour path began to run as arrows clattered onto The Griffin’s deck. Quint quickly hoisted the mainsail and The Griffin pulled further away from the path, the sail flapping slightly as it caught on the weak breeze. He sent a few arrows towards the sailors on the path without trying to hit any. Glancing down he saw that Mahra, in the form of a cat, was rubbing against his leg. She peered up at him and meowed.
‘I know, Mahra, I know. I’m worried too. Loras…Loras?’ Quint watched as a ball of red demon fire came arcing towards them from the big ship that was slowly manoeuvring, blocking their only escape route. ‘There are demons out here, Loras…hello, Loras can you hear me? I said there…’
‘Yes I heard you, Quint,’ said Loras, emerging from the hatch. ‘Don’t worry, we’re going to get out of here, just give me a moment.’ Loras bent down and stroked Mahra’s sleek grey fur. ‘Magic is a wonderful thing isn’t it, Mahra?’
‘What are you going to do, Loras? I mean do whatever you can but …’ Quint notched another arrow and let it fly at the fast approaching boats. Mahra decided that it was probably a good idea to be somewhere else and leapt over the opposite side of the boat, shimmered into the form of an owl and flew across to the far harbour wall.
The Griffin was heading directly towards the big ship and they were close enough now to make out the name Esmerelda painted on her sides as well as people and several large black demons standing on her deck. Another ball of red Chaos energy flew from the ship and Loras casually waved his hand and the red ball altered course towards one of the rowboats. The occupants saw it coming, and jumped clear amid a chorus of yells, just before the ball of fire exploded into the tiny boat, blowing it into a thousand splinters. Loras closed his eyes and began to mutter, then opened them and warned, ‘Hold on to something, Quint, we’re going flying.’
Quint just had time to take hold of The Griffin’s wheel when he noticed a blur of movement, his whole world shimmered before him and he found himself holding on to a thick pelt of feathery fur. What had been the deck of the boat only a heartbeat ago was now a writhing mass under his feet. He sank down in shock and tried to get a tighter hold as his mind raced to cope with what was happening. The Griffin gave a loud shrieking cry and lifted clear of the water, the two figures holding precariously onto her back. With the body of a lion and the head and wings of a giant eagle, the Griffins sharp talons clawed at the air and her huge wings beat as she fought to gain height and get away from the harbour.
From where she was sitting on the harbour wall, Mahra could see the full majesty of the creature that the old boat had become. She let out a raucous squawk of excitement. ‘Now you’re a magician, Loras, never have I seen such magic.’ She watched as The Griffin launched into the air, the huge animal tearing itself free of the water, barely missing the top masts of the Esmerelda; the down draught of its wing beats flapping the canvas sails of the huge ship. Quint and Loras were far too busy holding onto the feathery pelt to glance down and see what was happening on the boat, but Mahra saw the looks of astonishment from everyone as they gawped and stared at the strange creature passing overhead.
The Griffin climbed higher and higher away from the island, thankfully leaving behind all chance of capture, at least for the time being.
****
A cry of rage and frustration erupted from Belial as The Griffin reared up out of the harbour, showering the deck and everyone on it with glistening droplets of water. He lashed out in frustration sending Matheus Hawk spinning across the deck and then kicked a sailor so hard, that his broken body lifted up, landing far out into the middle of the harbour with a distant splash.
‘What magic are we up against here?’ he stormed. ‘These are no mere children, this is the Source playing games with us and I will not have it.’ He rounded on Bartholomew Bask who scampered back towards the hatchway before Belial could strike at him. He then noticed Matheus rising from the deck and anger infused his features as the Hawk slowly walked towards him, the very one he had entrusted the simple job of catching these ragamuffin thieves.
‘That was the last time you will ever strike me, demon,’ growled Matheus Hawk. ‘We could have done so much together, but you have turned against me too many times, and now it must end.’
‘What are you snivelling about, little human? Hold your tongue before I draw it out and cut it from your head. I need my concentration, for this ship must fly, we shall chase that…thing and it is I that shall defeat them.’ He raised his arms and the great ship began to groan as the weight was shifted and it began to lift from the water.
‘No, we shall fly nowhere. We no longer need you, so I’m sending you home.’ The Hawk felt satisfaction as Belial’s eyes opened in…fear? Had he finally understood what Matheus was capable of doing?
&
nbsp; ‘La-i-leb’ shouted Matheus Hawk and Belial disappeared with a small pop, the call-back spell; Belial’s own name pronounced backwards and cast so many weeks before, now having done its job. The ship crashed down the three full spans it had risen into the air, causing everyone on board to fall to the deck.
When Matheus regained his feet, the three demons had also disappeared, held in this dimension by nothing more than the magic of their demon King. He stared at the distant speck that was The Griffin and, making note of the course, ordered the shaken, but greatly relieved captain, to make for open sea.
****
In the first rays of early morning light, Minster sat amid a sparkling sea, a green jewel in a blue setting. Glancing back, they could only guess at the commotion their departure had caused as the steady wing beats of the mighty Griffin continued taking them further away.
‘That was really impressive, Loras,’ shouted Quint grinning. ‘Any idea how we steer her?’
‘Navigation and boat control I leave to you,’ replied Loras happily. ‘That was good eh, Quint, I bet old Bartholomew’s really upset now.’ They were still laughing when Mahra landed next to them exhausted from trying to catch up and changed from owl to girl.
‘They’re making for open sea. The demons have all gone. I don’t know what happened, they just disappeared,’ she glanced back at the island, the wind ruffling her hair. ‘Do we know where we’re going?’
‘We’re heading for Freya and then we’ll pick up the route to Dhurbar. We’ve got one more skull to find and according to the book, that’s where we’ll find it.’ Quint leaned his body to the left pulling on The Griffin’s fur at the base of her wings and was delighted when the great creature responded with a cry, banking towards the far distant city.
****
Belial found himself spinning blindly out of control, falling, falling, falling and as he fell he let out his frustrations in a long drawn-out wail. How could the human have tricked him so? He felt disappointment and confusion fused with a burning desire for revenge envelop him, then he finally landed with a colossal thump upon solid ground. Clouds of dust covered and surrounded him as he mentally checked his body for damage. As a demon he felt little physical pain, only the pain of his betrayal once again by human kind. He sat up, glaring around, but all was darkness in the realm of demons.