Simian's Lair

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Simian's Lair Page 2

by David H. Burton


  Widget joined them, his two daggers in hand.

  Roe looked at Maddock and then ran also, wings extended. Her crossbow was nocked and firing.

  Maddock stood with sword in hand. He knew this enemy. They would die trying to fight these things. The Weepers were too powerful. He’d lost his family to them in the Ruins of Seeto. Only he had lived, having run while his family fought the monsters. He had run until his legs had finally collapsed beneath him. And now fear stayed him. He thought of his parents and elder siblings. That was three years ago. Now his friends were running towards their deaths.

  Master Rickett yelled to the others to run away, but they did not listen. He swung at the Weepers, cutting one of their legs into splinters. It fell with a piercing cry. Three more of the monsters peeled from the shadows and lunged forward, screaming as they crawled upon their crooked limbs. Master Rickett pulled a pouch from his belt and cast a powder into the air. He yelled out some words and the powder flashed orange, burning the Weepers as it fell upon them. They howled and pressed in closer, furious that this man was causing them pain.

  The other three orphans and Mimick joined Master Rickett, each taking up positions around him. The stone of Sari’s rod lit up bright and red and she cast forth bursts of flame, burning the Weepers where they stood. Roe fired off arrows. Her aim was true and she pierced two of the monsters through their blackened hearts, dropping them where they stood. Mimick strangled the Weepers with its tail until they collapsed in a pile of twisted limbs. Widget flung his dagger at the beasts and it struck one of them in the eye. Then, as was his talent, he would disappear with the shadows. He would reappear briefly to retrieve his dagger and then vanish once more.

  Four more Weepers peeled from the darkness.

  Maddock’s head spun. This was a losing battle.

  He looked back at the entrance.

  The way was clear. It called to him and he knew he should run; run until his legs collapsed beneath him.

  The Way of Courage

  Maddock watched his friends battle.

  No, not his friends, he thought. His family.

  For three years they had traveled together, watching each other’s backs; caring for each other where no one else would. These were his brother and sisters now.

  He thought of Madam Patrice’s words to him: Keep your head about you, keep your wits, and most of all keep together.

  Keep together, he thought.

  His hands tightened on his sword.

  Together .

  He dashed forward with courage in his fluttering heart. He swung at the Weeper closest to him, cutting its legs out from under it. These monsters were not going to take his new family from him.

  Five more Weepers appeared from the shadows. Mimick chased two of the beasts, forcing them back into one of the tunnels.

  Maddock swiped at one of them again and noticed that as they attacked they seemed to avoid Sari.

  Brilliant flames danced around her.

  “They hate the light,” he said as he swung his sword round.

  “Then we need more!” called Master Rickett.

  Sari raised her rod and poured forth a sphere of flames. It floated just above them. The Weepers pressed forward.

  Master Rickett glowered one-eyed. “It’s not enough!”

  He pulled out a golden ring with a blue stone, but dropped it. He swung his sword as the Weepers closed in.

  Roe dove and grabbed the ring before the Weepers could get it.

  “That’s an Air Ring,” called Master Rickett as he swung. “Use it!”

  She stepped back. “How?” Everyone knew that magic was dying.

  Two more Weepers attacked. Maddock and Master Rickett forced them back.

  Sari pointed to the ball of fire, instructing her friend. “Push the fire up and make it bigger.”

  Roe slipped the ring on. She tried to think of something to rhyme off, closed her eyes, and spit out the first words that came to mind.

  Roe paused, unsure of how to end the spell.

  Then the fireball flared up, ten times its size.

  “Woah!” she cried and dove to the ground with the rest of the troupe to avoid the sudden heat. She could smell the burnt tips of her hair. She checked to make sure the rest of her remained unsigned and then winced as she cited the last line.

  “… go go go!”

  The ball of fire rose to the ceiling. And with it, the cavern was filled with a yellow and orange radiance. The Weepers retreated, screaming as they tried to avoid the light that now filled the cave.

  Two of the Weepers threw themselves at Sari and Roe. Widget stabbed one with his dagger, Maddock pierced the other with his sword. The remaining Weepers fled into the tunnels.

  They breathed a sigh of relief as the last of the Weepers slunk away.

  Mimick then approached Master Rickett. It tiptoed towards him on all fours, head low to the ground, its tail between its legs. It muttered to itself in a meek voice as it drew near. The man brought his sword up in defense, but Sari held his arm.

  “No! If it wasn’t for Mimick we wouldn’t be here.” The gruff man hesitated and then lowered his sword, but watched Mimick with eagle-like eyes as it approached. Mimick ran its glowing hands over the wound on the man’s leg. It took a few minutes, but when it was done only a scar remained where once there had been a nasty gash.

  Mimick then bounded back, its tail swaying once more.

  “Mimick!” it said.

  The man just harrumphed and turned to Maddock, “What –“

  A short, piercing cry echoed through the cavern.

  “Patrice!” called Master Rickett. “Children, I need your help! Will you come with me further into these blasted catacombs?”

  The energy from the strall still ran through their veins and they knew they could continue on.

  They all nodded.

  The man studied one of the walls of the cavern where three different entrances waited, unsure of which to enter.

  “The middle one,” said Widget, pointing.

  “You sure, lad?”

  “Trust him,” Maddock said.

  Master Rickett grunted and then nodded. “Then the middle one it is. Everyone at the ready!”

  He ran towards it with a slight limp. The others followed, Mimick bringing up the rear.

  Tunnel after tunnel they ran, Sari’s magic and Mimick’s green glow lighting the way. Roe now carried the other rod, looped in her belt. In her gray-skinned hands, her crossbow was nocked and ready.

  On they went, scraping themselves along the narrowing walls and tripping along rocky ground that seemed to be grabbing at their ankles.

  They heard laughter behind them. The Weepers were following once more. And by the sound of the wicked cackling, there were more of them than before.

  The tunnels narrowed. Master Rickett groaned as he ran, bent almost in half as he shuffled his way along. The laughter was louder now, close on their heels.

  Master Rickett stopped.

  “Fire, girls! Now!” he commanded.

  Sari and Roe crawled under the legs of the others, trying to squeeze past.

  “Hurry!” he called.

  They just managed to get past Mimick when they saw the throng of Weepers creeping towards them along the walls and ceiling. Sari closed her eyes and summoned a blazing ball of flame as fast as her lips could mutter the words and then Roe sent it zooming down the corridor. They all held their breath as they heard the screams of the Weepers.

  “Don’t wait,” said Master Rickett. “Move!”

  They continued on, and after what seemed an eternity, the tunnel spilled out into a massive cavern, twice as big as the previous one with old trees growing around the edges. In here they found Magus Nimrel and Madam Patric near a faintly lit old lamppost. They were surrounded by Weepers. Madam Patrice’s arm was bleeding from a heavy gash.

  “Quickly, light this cavern,” Master Rickett said.

  And as before Sari summoned a ball of flame. She warmed her hands b
y it. It was cold in this place, she thought. Cold down to her bones.

  Then Roe motioned for the ball of fire to rise. It shot up in an arc and lit the entire cavern. Maddock sucked in his breath. Crawling along the walls were so many Weepers they could barely see the rocky surface. The Weepers wailed at the sudden light and scrambled to escape.

  Magus Nimrel said nothing, and rushed to study some runes upon the cavern walls. The man’s delicate fingers hovered over the symbols and he murmured words the others could not hear. The frame of a doorway appeared. In the door were two small keyholes.

  He blew upon them, but did not touch them.

  “We need the two keys,” he said.

  Madam Patrice cradled her wounded arm as she approached Master Rickett. “Where is the Key of Light?”

  Master Rickett reached into his pockets and pouches, searching for it. He looked aghast.

  “It must be back in the tunnels,” he said.

  “I’ll get it,” said Widget. He ran towards the tunnels, but tripped, sliding along the dirt.

  “Mimick!” shouted Mimick and then bounded after Widget, pulling him up from the ground. Then the two of them disappeared into the tunnels.

  “Can it be trusted?” asked Madam Patrice.

  Master Rickett hesitated, then nodded. “It fought at our side. It brought the children into the Lair to help us. It knew something was wrong.”

  She nodded, seeming satisfied.

  Magus Nimrel pulled out a cloth-covered object. He unraveled it to reveal a black key. No light reflected off it. Sari winced. She could feel the evil that radiated from it. Magus Nimrel kept his hands on the cloth. He handed it to Master Rickett who took it reluctantly.

  “Are you sure about this?” he asked with his gruff voice. His face seemed to darken as he held it in his bare hand.

  Magus Nimrel nodded. “You are the only one that can wield it.” He pointed to the door. “Put it into the lower key hole.”

  Master Rickett inserted it. The lock clicked and the door throbbed with a dark aura.

  Then, as if on cue, Widget slipped from the tunnels.

  “Widget!” the others screamed.

  He held something in his armpit and was covering his eye with his hand.

  “Quick!” he cried. “Take it! Something’s coming!”

  Magus Nimrel rubbed his nose furiously.

  Madam Patrice took the key. It was golden and bright.

  “Open the door,” Widget gasped.

  She walked towards the doorway.

  Roe tugged at Widget’s arm. “Let me see your eye.”

  He backed away. “I’m fine.”

  “Where’s Mimick?” Sari asked, looking about the cavern.

  “Please,” Roe pleaded. “Let us see it. Is it serious?”

  “I’m fine!” he snapped.

  Maddock noticed Magus Nimrel still rubbing his nose.

  “Wait!” he called. “Don’t put the key in!”

  Madam Patrice paused, the key suspended mere inches from the hole.

  “No!” yelled Widget. “Hurry! Something evil is coming. Please, you must believe me!”

  Maddock stepped in front of him. “No. Something isn’t right.” He drew his sword and pointed it at Widget. “Show us your eye.”

  Widget snarled. He removed his hand. One eye was missing. There was just an empty socket and it looked like it had been that way for years.

  Roe raised her bow, wings taut behind her. “Where is Widget? And where is Mimick?”

  The boy that looked like Widget chuckled. It was a deep, unnatural laugh.

  Magus Nimrel sped forward. “Back, children! This thing is not what it seems.”

  “Indeed, fool!” bellowed the boy. And in a red and black mist that swirled about him, Widget changed in front of their eyes. He grew long and slender, his skin bubbling until it turned into scales. His one eye developed into a slit and his legs formed into a coiled body. Slowly he grew until a giant red-eyed cobra rose above them.

  The one eye was missing, just like on the boy that had stood before them.

  “What is that thing?” Maddock asked as the snake breathed red and black flames at them.

  They leapt to escape its heat and poison. The fire singed the ground, barely missing them.

  “Jinn,” said Magus Nimrel. “And not a good one.”

  “Who summoned it?” Sari asked, ducking as the snake’s tail lashed at her head.

  And she got her answer as a man stepped from the shadows. He wore a black suit and tapped the ground with a matching cane.

  “Marveleous Thingrom,” muttered Madam Patrice.

  “Hello, my old teacher,” he said. He removed his top hat and offered a mock bow.

  “Traitor,” she said.

  He smiled. It was an unctuous grin.

  “Your death will end the line of Mystics,” he said, “and the Darksworn will rule.”

  “You will never open the Tower,” she said. “It is sealed.”

  “With the power that lies behind that door I will,” he said. He looked at the snake and then walked away. “I will leave them in your hands, Master.”

  “With pleassssure.”

  Master Rickett drew his sword. “What is your name, Beast, that I might remember the monster we slew in this putrid pit of a cavern?”

  The snake chuckled and the walls of the cave shook with the echo of its dark laughter. “I am Ssssinisssstral, you fool. And it isssss I who will remain here.” It struggled to speak with its forked tongue. “Thissss Lair isssss mine, asssss you will be. I will sssssssumon you from the dead to be my ssssservantssss for all eternity.”

  The Mystic’s Circle

  “Quickly, children,” said Madam Patrice. “Get behind me.”

  “Foolisssssh Mysssstic. Your power issss dying,” hissed Sinistral. “You need the Myssstic’ssss Ccccircle to ssssummon!”

  “You’re standing in it!” yelled a voice. It was Widget. He limped from the shadows, Mimick bounding along beside him.

  Widget scraped the dirt at his feet. Etched into the rock beneath were symbols.

  Madam Patrice had a twinkle in her eye.

  Sinistral raised his head to strike as she raised her hands.

  “By air, earth, water and fire,

  Arabus come, our need is dire.”

  A white mist filled the cave and a blue dragon emerged from it, blocking the serpent’s strike just as its mouth was about to close over Madam Patrice. It hurled the snake to the other side of the cavern. The group stepped back as the dragon turned to face Sinistral.

  “We meet again, old friend,” the dragon said in a low, warm voice.

  “Arabussss,” the snake hissed. It lunged at him.

  The dragon batted the snake’s head aside, sending it crashing into the stone wall. Stalactites fell threatening to skewer Sinistral, but he scurried away before they struck. The children backed towards one of the walls, weapons ready, but unsure of what to do other than stay out of the way.

  While the Jinns battled, Magus Nimrel took Madam Patrice and Master Rickett aside and had them use the keys. A tiny door opened, and as much as the four youths tried to catch a glimpse of what was happening, all they managed to see was a simple locked box. Magus Nimrel handed it to Madam Patrice and whispered. Yet Widget’s one mechanical ear was more sensitive than his natural ear and he caught what was said.

  “Keep this safe,” Magus Nimrel said. “With the rise of the Darksworn and the loss of so many Mystics, its time will come soon. Hide it where none will find it – not even me.”

  Madam Patrice slipped it into her robes and with a swish of her hands, it disappeared. Then they locked the door once more just as Arabus’ tail swung round. The three of them ducked and it swept over their heads.

  The dragon changed into a white mist that wrapped around the serpent, almost like another white snake that coiled around Sinistral. He roared in pain. Sinistral’s skin smoldered and he tried to breathe fire upon Madam Patrice, but only white smoke emanated
from his nostrils. Sinistral swung his tail, but it flopped before it struck. Then he cried out to the Weepers for help and a single fang fell from his mouth.

  The Weepers scurried from the tunnels, tumbling over each other to come to their master’s aid, but they burned as they touched the white mist. The serpent-like mist grew brighter, lighting up the cavern as if the midday sun shone down into the depths of the underground. The Weepers fled from the cave in droves. Then the white mist formed smaller serpents that chased them into the tunnels. The screams of the Weepers echoed through the cavern.

  Arabus was now gone as Sinistral wriggled, his skin still smoking, and morphed back into the boy who looked like Widget. Steam rose from his head and he reached down to grab the fang. It was razor-sharp. He said nothing and fled for the tunnels. Mimick ran after it and grabbed him by the ankle. Sinistral lashed out at Mimick and sliced its arm with the tooth.

  “Mimick!” it cried, yet hung on.

  Madam Patrice herded Roe and Sari forward, clasping their hands in her own. “You cannot be allowed to leave.”

  A rush of power swept through them: heat like the fires of Underhaven, cold like the Sea of Despair, the ground shook like in the Ruins of Seeto, and the winds blew as if standing upon the tip of Mount Simeon. The girls gripped as tight as they could. They could sense Madam Patrice’s thoughts and knew that the power she wielded was due to the box she had hidden in her dress. And it was like she was a part of them – combined they were one being, one power that was going to lock this Jinn in stone forever. Their hands slipped, and they clenched their teeth. And Sinistral, his eyes aflame with red anger, screamed his outrage.

  “No!” he cried as his feet turned to rock, binding him where he stood. He started to change back into the snake, but it was no use. The rest of him petrified, until all that remained was his partly human head.

  His spat out his last words before the rest of him turned to stone. “I … will … return.”

  Madam Patrice let the girls go. They fell to the ground gasping for breath.

  Mimick sat off to the side, cradling its arm. A blackness was overtaking its body.

  It whispered to itself. “Mimick. Mimick.”

 

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