Stirring Embers: An urban fantasy action adventure (The Light and the Void Book 1)

by Willem Killian

  “I suggest we do this on the forest side. We don't want anyone seeing us by accident. People tend to go crazy when they see a door open in a tree and people disappearing into it.”

  Eleanor looked up at him as they shuffled to the suggested side. Despite his wounds, Jöanth still managed a smile and projected a feeling of strength and goodness. Eleanor felt the stirring of something else within her. She wondered briefly if it would be possible to have a relationship with an álvur.

  Would Jöanth ever feel something for me? Was it even permitted? And how would it work? He might look like a healthy thirty-year old man, but he was a being that lived to be a thousand.

  She pushed the thoughts away as Jöanth squeezed her hands to signal that she release him. He then hobbled closer to the trunk and turned to face them.

  “To open a Portal, I merely have to touch a CéataCranné and a doorway will open for me. As long as I stand inside that doorway, it will remain open for whoever else will be traveling with me. Charlene's key works on the same principal.”

  He urged her to come to his side. She lifted her arm and took hold of the key.

  “Just reach out and touch the tree trunk. It doesn't matter where,” Jöanth said and stood back.

  Eleanor immediately moved in beside him again. He smiled a thank you at her quickly, before returning his attention to Charlene. Charl reached out and the moment the key touched the Tree, it seemed to pass into the bark. A moment later, a dim outline of a door appeared. It was as if the interior of the Tree was filled with a bright orange light and it was seeping through from behind a closed door. The rough bark vibrated out of focus for a second, and was replaced by a smooth, polished wooden door. It seemed to be made from a single piece of wood, as there were no grooves to indicate separate planks. The smooth surface was broken by a copper latch in the center of the door, and runes in an ancient script that appeared at the top.

  “What does it say?” Charlene asked, mouth open in wonder.

  “It is an ancient language and is difficult to translate, but in essence, it comes down to: LEAVE THIS WORLD A BETTER PLACE.”

  “That's lovely,” Eleanor said. “Succinct.”

  “What?” Rosewater asked.

  “Short, but to the point.” Eleanor said, rolling her eyes at RW's brain fart.

  “Right,” the younger woman said and moved towards the door.

  “You can open it,” Jöanth urged Charlene. “But don't go in,” he cautioned. “Even if you go in for just a second and come out immediately, time will have changed here. To us staying behind, minutes could pass before you are back.”

  Charlene nodded and pushed on the handle. The door slid open effortlessly without a sound, as if on well-oiled hinges. A soft orange glow leaked out into the dark. There was a pulse, as if the Tree had a single heartbeat, and it sent forth a solid orange wall of light in all directions. It passed through them and felt warm and inviting on their faces.

  They watched the ring of light flow away from them. It reached all the way up to the heavens and expanded as it moved further away from them. They stood mesmerized, staring at it as it flowed over the hill nearest to them, down the valley on the opposite side, over homes, roads, trees, and mountains until it was gone from sight.

  “That was magnificent,” Eleanor breathed. “What was that?”

  “The most elaborate doorbell in all the universes,” Jöanth answered.

  “Wait, what?” Eleanor said, tearing her eyes from the horizon. “Are you kidding?”

  Jöanth smiled, but it wasn't the mischievous kind she had learned to love. This was just a normal, warm, friendly smile.

  “I am quite serious,” he said. “That pulse is a signal that someone is using a CéataCranné. Either someone is about to enter or exit this world. We call the wall of light a Foramen Cranné.”

  The women all stared off into the distance again.

  “I like to think,” Jöanth continued. “That the pulse is a little bit of magic seeping into your world, making it a little warmer and more wholesome.”

  Eleanor turned to the álvur, as he, too, stared off into the distance with a sense of wonderment in his eyes.

  Who knew, she thought. Monster hunters can be romantics.

  “I need to move,” he said suddenly, breaking the spell. “My wounds have taken a big strain on my healing capabilities. I will not be able to face the svartálvur in this weakened state. We need to move.”

  As one, they turned and looked at the open doorway. That warm orange glow still flowed from it, albeit much weaker than before. The light made Charlene think of the soft running lights in the hallways of the Prouza Mansion. It was just enough to see by. Because she was the one who had opened the door, she was standing in the center of the opening and had the best view of what lay beyond.

  Inside the trunk of the Tree Portal, there seemed to be a room. It defied belief and logic, as it appeared bigger than it could possibly have been. The old Giant Red Oak was massive, but it could not have contained a room of that size.

  The room was also awash in the warm orange glow and it seemed to emanate from the walls and floor and roof itself. There were no discernible light fixtures or flickering torches on the walls. It was the inside of the tree itself that exuded the warm glow. The room was made entirely of the same polished wood as the door. It was light in color and once again there were no grooves, joints, knots, or any imperfections. It seemed to be made entirely of a single piece of solid, perfect golden wood.

  To the back of the room was a banister with what looked like a staircase.

  “When you are ready to go through, follow the staircase down and go through the first door you see. I will be waiting on the other side. If I am not there, for whatever reason, I will leave an álvur friend to welcome you.”

  The women nodded.

  “Don't take too long,” Jöanth cautioned. “Go home, pack a small bag with one set of extra clothes, toothbrushes, perhaps a water bottle and that's it. You only need the basics.”

  “What about the svartálvur?” Rosewater asked. She felt as if everyone had forgotten about their biggest threat.

  “That is why I need you to hurry. In Edínu, I can protect you better and I can get more help.”

  Jöanth gave Eleanor a brief hug and moved to the open doorway. He seemed on the verge of collapse and scraped the great Drÿmwÿn on the floor as he shuffled closer. He turned back a last time before he walked through the doorway.

  “Hurry,” he said. “Oh,” he turned back, “no point in bringing electronics, they won't work in Edínu. So don't waste time looking for phones and chargers and things.” He waved them off and walked through the doorway. A second later, the three women were staring at nothing more than tree bark.

  Jöanth and the doorway were gone, as if they had been nothing but a dream.

  CHAPTER 51

  Urøk was starting to get irritated. The beiier was supposed to have been back more than half-an-hour ago. He summoned it a second time and wondered what kept the thing. It better come back with useful intel, or I'm going to shed some light on the situation, he thought.

  His laughter echoed in the small cabin he had appropriated as his new lair. His plan was laid out. He was going to give the humans and Jöanth tonight and tomorrow during the day to despair and wallow and lick their wounds. By now, they would have realized how vulnerable they were. How easily he could snuff them out. The sheriff was just the start of it.

  Tomorrow night, using the beiier, he would lure Jöanth away from the humans. Then he would consume Eleanor, assuming her identity. Becoming her. Inheriting all her memories.

  Urøk was convinced that Eleanor was merely a means to an end. She wasn’t the Harbinger – of this, he was sure. Once he had become her, he would have a better understanding of the girl. It would also allow him to get closer to her. And to the Tracker. It was clear now that in human form, the Tracker couldn't track him.

  Jöanth would not know that he was Eleanor until it was too lat
e. He would kill the álvur swiftly. He wouldn't take chances. He would do it while the álvur had his back turned, when he didn't expect it. Urøk would put a blade through the base of his skull. A painless death unfortunately, but a quick one. You didn't play with a Tracker. They were the most dangerous and ruthless killers of all the álvur. They were some of the best hunters in all the worlds. They were the only álvur that Urøk had a healthy respect for. If he was honest with himself, he would have admitted to feeling a little afraid of them. Trackers were ruthless hunters who always got their prey. If you had the opportunity to kill one, you did it quickly.

  Later, he would kill the other girl in front of Charlene just to see her reaction. Perhaps. That was still undecided. First, Eleanor. Then the Tracker. Then he'd play it by ear.

  He was about to summon the beiier again when a Pulse came through the cabin. It was a wall of orange light that passed through everything. It came through the wall from the east, the direction where the girl and her friends were. He couldn't know for certain, but Urøk knew the light had come from the CéataCranné near their home.

  Someone had opened the door. He wondered briefly if it was the Tracker, or whether Charlene had finally found one of the gifts he had left her, and how to use it.

  Either way, speed was needed.

  CHAPTER 52

  The girls were packed and ready to go in under five minutes. They grabbed the essentials; toothbrushes, light makeup, a few pads just in case, extra jeans, two t-shirts, underwear, socks and a bottle of water each. Eleanor always had an emergency pack ready, so she ended up helping the girls pack. The last thing she grabbed as they ran out was her trusty .38 Chief's Special. It was already preloaded with her new ammunition.

  All the odd rounds in the chamber were silver bullets. Number two was also silver, but it was dipped in Holy Water, and had a cross on the tip of the hollow point. Number four was an iron slug and number six was copper.

  She didn't know if it was going to help when they needed it, but it felt good in her hand. She needed the extra little bit of courage. The svartálvur was still out there, and when it found out that they had killed its beiier, it was going to be pissed.

  She preceded them out of the house and set off at a run. Rosewater was the last one out, and in her haste, she painfully bumped into the kitchen table. It almost toppled over, and sent the whispering box flying to the floor. The lid popped open and the metal cylinder rolled across the floor towards the open door. Without thinking, Rosewater picked it up and put it in her jeans as she ran out the door, trying to catch up with the other two. The cylinder was only the width of her hand and less than two inches in diameter and the moment it was in her pocket, she forgot about it.

  They reached the Tree without incident. Charlene pointed her arm at the center of the Tree and the bracelet started to change when a voice startled them.

  “Evening ladies.”

  It was the voice of nightmares.

  Gravelly, deep, devoid of all kindness. It had an undertone of malice and contempt. Worst of all, it hurt their ears. It was the voice of Urøk, the Korgon.

  The girls whirled and were frozen to the spot for a second. It was uncloaked for Charlene's benefit, and it was the first time that the teenagers had seen it this close. It was standing in a beam of moonlight, as if bragging. It was a huge creature, much bigger than Jöanth in all aspects. It stood still, posing for them. Its head was slightly tilted to the side and upwards, so that they could see it's distended jaw with glistening black teeth. Its snout opened and closed as if smelling them. It's six eyes were orange jack-o-lantern lamplights. Unlike the warm orange glow from the Tree Portal, this amber light was devoid of warmth. It seemed to suck you in and hypnotize you with their hunger.

  It was broad shouldered, muscles bulging, its skin covered in a black coating of lizard-like scales. Its claws were extended to their full capacity and it was easy to imagine that it could decapitate a victim with one clean stroke. Its legs were shorter than its arms, stocky and strong, giving it an almost Hominidae or simian appearance. To Eleanor, it looked slightly different to what she could remember. The legs seemed somehow different.

  “Oh, shit,” Charlene breathed. This is what Eleanor saw in the train? No wonder she had looked freaked out. I would have lost my shit completely. Right now, I am losing my shit! What do we do? What do we do?

  Charlene's mind went temporarily comatose.

  For some reason, Eleanor remembered her dream where David ICK had turned into a swirling shadow thing atop the Empire State Building. The three of them had stood up to the Thing that wanted to bring about the end of everything. This had a similar feel to that dream. It wasn’t quite like déjà vu, but Eleanor felt as if this had all been scripted. As if this was supposed to happen. Is this fate? She wondered briefly.

  In her dream, the Thing had said it was coming for all of them. In that instant, Eleanor knew what she had to do. She brought the .38 up and fired, shocking the two girls.

  The silver slug hit the thing high up on its flexed chest. It staggered backward a step and let out something akin to a yelp. It immediately turned its focus on Eleanor, who fired another round, the slug hitting it square in the center of its chest. This time it didn't stagger or cry out in pain.

  “Stupid human,” it said and charged.

  Eleanor didn't stand a chance. She fired off another shot, this one hitting it in one of its eyes. It roared and crashed into her, flinging her off her feet backwards against the tree. There was a sickening crunch as it followed through with its charge, breaking bones and turning organs to pulp as it smashed Eleanor's body into the tree. The tree shuddered, leaves fell and Eleanor lay still, blood curdling from her mouth.

  Rosewater charged with a scream. She had nothing but fists as weapons, but that didn't dissuade her. Her anger was complete. It drowned out any fear she might have felt in normal circumstances. The death of one of her closest friends overcame her with a dark rage that engulfed her and propelled her to attack the thing in front of her.

  It swatted her away like a fly.

  Its claws ripped through her midsection, sending her and parts of her intestines flying for more than ten yards. Rosewater landed with such a jarring force, that she bit through her tongue and broke two teeth.

  She rolled down the hill, a broken, flapping thing that left bits of herself behind with every revolution. She was dead before she stopped rolling.

  Charlene didn't see this. Instead, she grabbed Eleanor's revolver and started firing blindly at the thing, her hand pointed towards the hateful thing's head. She managed to get two shots off before it stood up and brought its fist down. She saw it happen and tried to jump out of the way. Instead of the fist landing on the top of her head and making her head pop like a gore filled balloon, the hammer-blow hit her on the shoulder.

  It felt as if the thing's fist traveled all the way through her shoulder to the bottom of her left lung. It fragmented her collar bone into a thousand pieces, and destroyed her chest cavity with all its contents. Her over-strained heart managed to valiantly beat for a few more seconds and then the pain hit her.

  The Thing stooped down and cradled her broken body in its huge arms. It cried a long, mournful NO! into the night sky. Before Charl surrendered to the dark, she wondered how it was possible that a thing so ugly and wicked could show remorse and seem sad.

  A few short seconds later, her heart gave its final beat and the mystery went with her into the eternal night.

  CHAPTER 52

  They were racing through the open gate, nearing the Tree when all three of them collapsed. It was as if they had been puppets all this time, manipulated by an unseen master and he had suddenly, without warning, cut their strings.

  The memories flooded their brains, followed shortly after by adrenaline and endorphins. They experienced their own deaths and it was a brutal, painful experience that left them feeling nauseous and weak. They were exhausted in an instant, both physically and mentally.

  Elean
or, lying in a ball, vomited. She hardly had enough time to turn her head away from her body. Most of it ended up in her hair.

  Rosewater, also in the fetal position, kept clutching at her stomach, rocking backwards and forwards, moaning.

  Charlene sat upright and rubbed at her chest and shoulder, the memory and pain already fading fast. She was the first one to get onto wobbly feet. She reached out and first helped Rosewater into a sitting position, before managing to get Eleanor on her knees.

  “What. Just. Happened?” Rosewater managed through short bursts of breath. She sounded as if she was hyperventilating.

  “We died,” Charlene croaked through a dry throat.

  “How?” Eleanor asked.

  Eleanor lifted her head towards the heavens and immediately fell over, onto her back. She just lay there. She didn't have the strength to get up just yet.

  “Don't know,” Charlene said. She had a weird tingling sensation in her right hand and forearm but didn’t have time to analyze it. “We have to move. It's coming.”

  That seemed to revitalize them all and they got onto shaky feet. They shuffled towards the Tree, looking around frantically, when the svartálvur stepped out from the shadows. This time, it was in front of them. It was standing between them and the Tree.

  “Evening ladies,” it smirked and seemed to go into its rehearsed, posing spiel again.

  Rosewater shone her torch at the Thing's head, Eleanor walked towards it, gun at the ready. Charlene didn't know what to do. The nightmare was about to repeat itself. And this time, they were in a worse position than before. They were further away from the Tree and possible salvation.

  Eleanor didn't pull the trigger this time, but tried to keep a shaking hand on her target. She wanted to get closer and shoot the smug thing in the face. She wanted to empty the revolver and see if it would do any damage. She approached it at an angle, trying to get closer, but also putting herself between it and the girls, all the while moving towards the Tree. The Tree was their only means of escape. If they could get in and close the door behind them, she knew they'd be safe. Time will have changed here and the thing would be behind them, perhaps by several minutes. They'd have a chance. Especially if Jöanth waited for them on the other side.