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

by Willem Killian

  “Where are you going Eleanor?” it rasped. “Think you can get away?”

  Its voice hurt her ears. It sounded unnatural. Completely guttural and barely perceptible to the human ear.

  “Why don't you let us?” She surprised herself. Her voice was steady. “I'm sure you like playing cat and mouse,”

  It seemed to genuinely consider her proposal and they managed to inch closer to the Tree. Rosewater was looking around for a weapon of some kind, knowing that a torchlight was not going to do anything to the Korgon. The light in its eyes only seemed to irritate it. Unlike the beiier, the torch light wasn't hurting it, so she needed something else. Moonlight glinted off the edge off something metallic on her picket fence and she remembered the landscaper hanging ornamental garden tools on the wall. There was a watering can, two spades, and a garden fork. Sure, they were bedecked and bejeweled with mosaic tiles and squares of mirror, but underneath all that cosmetic bling, there was good old-fashioned steel or iron. These were implements that had been salvaged from farm yards across the county. Once upon a time, they were shiny and new, and had toiled in the earth. They would make sturdy weapons.

  “Cat or mouse, or do you want to fight?” Rosewater surprised herself.

  She said it with a forcefulness that belied the fear in her guts. She could still feel the pain of where the Thing had nearly torn her in half. This time, she wouldn't go down without a fight. She didn't wait for an answer and simply turned her back on the Thing and walked to the wooden fence. She made sure to walk and not run, knowing that sudden movements prompted predators to pounce. She liberated the garden fork from its place of prominence on the fence. RW dropped the torch, took off the nearest spade and threw it towards Charlene, who was eyeing her with wide-eyed wonder.

  Charlene caught the spade and tested its weight and feel in her hands, swinging it in an arc before her.

  “Right here and right now?” Rosewater said, spreading her feet. She gripped the fork as if it was a javelin.

  The Thing looked from her to Charlene. Then back to Eleanor as a smile crept eerily onto its alligator-like muzzle.

  “I'll let you decide,” it smirked.

  Eleanor was now only a few feet from the Thing, the girls were behind her, and they were within easy range of the Tree. Somehow, Rosewater's act of bravery had given them a chance. They were now between the Tree and the Thing.

  “Charl,” Eleanor said, “open that door, now!”

  Eleanor didn't wait for an answer. Instead, she won another step and pulled the trigger. The silver slug hit the Thing just above it's right, most forward-facing, eye. It fell back a step and yelped in pain.

  Charlene ran for the tree, key already magically in one hand, the ornate spade in the other. She heard another shot, saw Rosewater charging and heard her friend grunt as she released the fork. There was another yelp, two more shots and then the door was there. Charlene opened the door and turned, knowing instinctively that something was terribly wrong. The last two shots still echoed through the forest to her right, but apart from that an eerie silence had descended below the thick bows.

  Urøk had Rosewater by the neck and a huge fist wrapped around Eleanor's head. They were both kicking and struggling in their captor's grip. Eleanor's cries were muffled and Rosewater's face was turning a darker color. In the moonlight, it looked almost like a shade of purple.

  “This is not what I had planned,” the Thing growled. “But you know,” it shrugged its massive shoulders without letting Eleanor or Rosewater move an inch. “The best laid plans are worth shit in the grand scheme of things.”

  It smiled and looked between Eleanor and Rosewater.

  Seemingly without moving a muscle, something snapped in Rosewater's neck and she went limp. The Thing dropped her to the ground as if she was nothing but a bag of garbage. RW crumpled into a little pile and didn't move again.

  “No,” Charlene managed.

  Eleanor was next. Her muffled screams seemed to intensify as the Thing continued to exert pressure. In a final act of defiance, Eleanor threw the .38 in Charlene's direction. She couldn't see where Charlene was, but by some miracle, the gun landed at her friend’s feet.

  “Please,” Charlene begged, tears in her eyes.

  The Thing cocked its head, grinned, and looked at Eleanor. Eleanor's head burst with an audible wet pop. A fine red mist burst through the Thing's fingers and Eleanor's body started convulsing. It threw her body to the side with disdain. It looked at its hand and a forked black tongue languidly rolled out of its mouth and started licking at the gore in its palm.

  This sent Charlene over the edge. The Thing was licking and slurping up the brains of one of the smartest human beings she had ever known. The Korgon was the epitome of evil. The ultimate affront to everything good in the world. Nothing had ever pissed her off more.

  A scream rose inside Charlene and echoed forth as she picked up the revolver. Instead of angling it towards the Thing, her movement continued in an upwards direction. Charlene saw with satisfaction as the thing's eyes opened wide and it shouted NO! at her again. It started moving towards her with lightning speed, but it was too slow.

  The still-warm muzzle nuzzled perfectly below her chin and Charlene closed her eyes as she pulled the trigger. The hollow point expanded on impact and milliseconds later, her brain had turned to torn and liquefied mush and the universe returned to black.

  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.

  But they had lived through this before and somehow knew what to expect this time around. They recovered much faster.

  Instead of lying in a ball, vomiting, Eleanor immediately stood up fighting through the pain. The pressure in her head was so much though, that she felt she was going to pass out. But she knew they had to get to the Tree no matter what.

  Rosewater was on her knees, hands on her throat, rocking forwards and backwards, but not moaning this time around. She forced her head up and opened her eyes. She took a second and got up onto shaky legs.

  Charlene immediately sat upright and rubbed at the spot under her chin where the bullet had entered her skull. She was shaking her head to clear the cobwebs when a hand reached out to her. Charl reached out with her right hand, which was going through its weird tingling sensation again. She looked at the copper bracelet briefly as Eleanor helped her up and she could have sworn the engraved runes seemed to glow for a second with a blue and then orange light.

  “We need to hurry,” Eleanor croaked at both of them.

  “Gotcha,” Rosewater answered with a thick tongue.

  She started stumbling her way towards the Tree. Rosewater wasn't sure which death she preferred. Both left her feeling weak and fuzzy. At least the pain was receding fast, she thought as they started to make their way towards the Tree as quickly as possible. Each step she took was more confident than the previous.

  “This is our last chance,” Charlene said as she also set off for the Tree.

  The girls almost bumped into Eleanor as she stopped to look at Charlene.

  “You sure?” Eleanor asked.

  “Positive,” was all she answered.

  Charlene didn't know how she knew, she just knew. It was a fact. It wasn't something you questioned. She just knew it to be true.

  “Okay,” Eleanor nodded. “Let's hurry.”

  They forced their fatigued bodies to sprint, feeling the clock running out. It was now a case of mind over matter. Charlene already had the key in hand, leading the small procession. They were about twenty yards from the Tree when the voice came, slightly t
o their right and behind them.

  “Evening ladies.”

  Something was wrong. Urøk could sense it. Something had changed, that much was apparent. He couldn't sense the álvur. In his natural state as svartálvur, he should have been able to feel the Tracker if he had been nearby. This confirmed his suspicion that the álvur had turned tail and fled through the CéataCranné, leaving the women to follow him.

  The Korgon also couldn't sense the beiier. And then there was the Harbinger. Not only did she have her bracelet on and knew that it was a Gateway Key, she also had a much more intense Glow. She had either gained or discovered a new Gift. It should have excited him, knowing that she was beginning to fulfill her destiny, but something about the scene was off.

  There was álvur blood spilled all the way from the house to the Tree. Urøk could not only see it, but he could clearly smell its freshness and it stirred a hunger in him. There must have been a battle between álvur and beiier, with álvur probably victorious. The beiier hadn't returned, but he also hadn't found a body. It wasn't clear who the victor had been. The Tracker had been hurt, that much was clear. He would not have left the women behind otherwise. He went through the Gateway alone, forced into a retreat so that he could heal. That explained the CéataCranné pulse he had seen.

  The women were alone, and this should have filled him with confidence. Yet, there was something wrong. The humans were not acting as they should have. They were not cowering in fear. They were not surprised at his appearance. Worse still, they seemed to ignore him and were hell-bent on getting to the door. They knew they could escape through it, that much was obvious.

  But why would they be ignoring him? They knew who he was and what he was capable of. Their fear couldn't have propelled them into this kind of organized, hasty retreat. And that was exactly what it looked like. Like they had already engaged the enemy, saw that they couldn't win, and were retreating as quickly as they could.

  They had halved the distance to the Tree when he decided to move. It was going to be a tight race. To win a few milliseconds, he shot forth a pitch-black quill. It was similar in appearance to that of a Terran porcupine's quill, only Urøk's was like a projectile. It was thicker, harder, sharper, and deadlier. And he could produce and shoot them at will within a moment's thought.

  The quill was intended for Charlene, as she was the one with the key. If she managed to open the door and close it behind them, he would lose them for an indeterminable amount of time. And no doubt, the Tracker would be waiting on the other side with reinforcements. Therefore, the quill needed to work.

  He didn't aim to hurt her, but instead to scare her. The quill passed over her shoulder and embedded itself in the bark of the tree, just as she was reaching out with the Gateway Key. It had the desired effect, she jumped back. It gave him enough time to close the distance and worm himself between them and the Tree.

  The two girls backed off immediately, as if afraid of touching him or being within arm's length. They headed towards the side of the property, towards the fence. The older one however, was standing still, facing him. Firearm raised. She was a warrior, that much he had to admit.

  He didn't fear the weapon. Nothing short of silvurn could kill him, and he even had his doubts about that. There was nothing on Earth that could kill him. Sure, it might hurt, but now that the Tracker's sword had left with him, he couldn't be killed here. He was certain of that.

  Urøk smiled at her. He loved toying with this one. She thought she was so strong, but he was going to break her like kindling. He was going to enjoy her death throes when it was time. Urøk watched her pull the trigger and a moment later, his head snapped back with the impact. It hurt, and he cried out in pain and surprise. It wasn't a fatal shot, it never would be, his body was covered with a thick organic armor, compliments of a bratuk. A bullet couldn't pierce it. And yet, he had felt pain. And he sensed a trickle of his dark blood as the slug had actually managed to pierce a few layers of his thick armor.

  This surprised him. He didn't think it could be possible. There was actual pain. The next shot followed close on the first's heels and this time, was nothing more than an annoyance. It hit him at the back of his jaw, pinching skin against his teeth. It didn't hurt as much as the first one. If it wasn't for the pressure from the bullet hitting him between cheek and teeth, he might not even have felt it. The third shot hit him in one of his eyes. That part of his vision was immediately cut off. Like a monitor in a line of monitors suddenly losing power. The others still worked fine, he could see the girls getting farming tools from the picket fence. It would have been laughable if not for the pain in the eye. And pain there was. Even more than the first shot to the face.

  He immediately set his body to work, repairing the damage. He was going to have to eat after this. He had already expended a lot of energy changing his legs so that he could get here as fast as possible.

  He reached back with a hand to steady himself and he nearly fell into the Tree Portal. Inadvertently, he had opened a door in the CéataCranné with his touch. He reached out with his other hand, seeing where the portal frame was, and grabbed onto the bark of the tree before he completely lost his balance and fell through the doorway.

  Another shot rang out and this time, he nearly did fall all the way back. The pain was back as the latest bullet slammed into his neck.

  I am going to rip her to pieces, he thought as he saw her take aim again. Too late, he saw what she was aiming at, and he lunged out with his free hand.

  The girls saw Eleanor move to within a few inches of the svartálvur. It was leaning unsteadily inside the doorway, the only part of it still in this world, a single hand holding onto the door sill.

  That's probably the wrong description, Rosewater thought. There can't be a door frame because this time, there is no door. There was just an opening in the Tree. The doorway probably looked different for álvur and svartálvur, she thought as she released the garden fork. Eleanor was well to the side of the opening and not in harm's way. The fork sailed through the air as if a guided missile, heading straight for its intended target.

  Eleanor pulled the trigger again, this time aiming for the claw that was holding onto their world. As the shot rang out a hand snaked out and grabbed at her. Its claws dug into her side, drawing blood, dragging her back with it.

  A pitchfork sailed past Eleanor's head, missing her by inches, when the doorway suddenly vanished, blinking out of existence.

  The girls looked at each other in a panic.

  The svartálvur was gone, but so was Eleanor.

  EPILOGUE

  The girls waited. They held each other and spoke in hushed tones, hoping that the Portal would open again and Jöanth and Eleanor would stride through with smiles on their faces.

  After a few minutes, they realized that it might not happen and they were wasting time. The Korgon might also come back at any second.

  “We need to go through,” Charlene said.

  “I was thinking the same thing,” Rosewater agreed.

  “Weapons?” Charl asked.

  Rosewater looked around. “We have the spades.”

  “What about the shotgun?” Charlene wondered.

  “Will it work?” RW asked. “Jöanth said that machines and electronics don't work there.”

  “Does it qualify as a machine?” Charl asked.

  Rosewater thought about it for a second. “It has moving parts,” she offered.

  Charlene shrugged and there was a silent agreement between the two that the shotgun wouldn't work in Edínu.

  “Besides,” Charlene said. “The longer we wait, the more time will have passed over there.” She felt as if time was slipping away and they shouldn't waste any on fetching a weapon that might not work.

  Rosewater nodded.

  “We need to get to Jöanth,” Charl said. “We need to get Eleanor back somehow.”

  “Then let's go,” Rosewater said and squeezed her friend's hand. “But first,” she paused, “I have to know...”
>
  Charlene nodded encouragement.

  “What happened here?” Rosewater asked.

  “Eleanor was dragged through by the Korgon.”

  “Not that,” RW said looking into her friend's eyes. “Before that.” There was a moment of silence. “When we died.”

  Charlene had no answers. “I don't know,” she ventured. “I guess you know as much as I do.”

  “I think you know more,” Rosewater replied. “You were the last one to die every time. I think you were the one to reset the chain of events.”

  “It doesn't make sense.”

  “Does any of this?” RW asked, spreading her hands and looking at the world around them.

  “Even if it was me,” Charl said uncertainly. “I don't know how. Or why. It just happened. All I know is that after the second time,” she swallowed, remembering the experience. “After we died the second time, I somehow knew we wouldn't get another chance. But not once did I feel as if any of it was coming from me. I'm in that same dark tunnel as you. I had a strange tingling in my right hand and up my arm after we came to each time, but that was it. I have no idea how it’s possible.”

  “Okay,” Rosewater nodded thoughtfully and with conviction. “Let's get this show on the road.”

  They each selected a spade and Charlene extended her hand with the copper bracelet. It instantly turned into the hovering key that seemed to strain against its thin chain. The chain was so delicate, it looked like it would snap at any second, sending the key flying off like a bullet.