Revenant

by Fergal F. Nally

  “OK. We’ll be right behind you.”

  “Come on, come on, come on! There’s more activity behind us. Whatever it is, it’s catching up,” Forcan whispered urgently.

  Jack blew out the candle and put it in his tunic. He reached up and found the ladder’s rungs and pulled himself up. Sabine followed with Forcan taking up the rear. Sibilant voices surrounded them, harsh, accusatory. A slithering sound came from the darkness behind Forcan.

  Jack launched himself up the shaft using all his strength. He would take his chances at the grate, whatever was chasing them was after their blood and did not want them to escape.

  After eight minutes of climbing Jack saw light above, he redoubled his efforts and closed the distance on the grate. All the while voices grew in intensity around his head drilling into his consciousness.

  “Wait for us, we just want to hold you. Wait for us, don’t leave us alone. Not again, not for so long. Come back we need you to stay.”

  Jack’s hand hit the grate, his fingers closed around its wrought iron. He pushed hard, it moved, making a loud scraping, shattering the stillness of the library. He pushed it to one side and climbed out.

  Sabine’s head and shoulders appeared, Jack reached for her, she took his hand. He pulled her out and noticed thin yellow tendrils surrounding her body, pulling at her. They broke and dissipated into yellow dust, staining her tunic and the floor.

  Forcan’s head appeared, Jack was alarmed to see the same tendrils almost completely covering his body. Jack grabbed Forcan by the shoulders and hauled him up and out of the opening. Forcan was cocooned in the yellow tendrils and was unable to move, a dead weight.

  Sweat dripped down Jack’s face, his heart pounded. His skin burned when he touched the tendrils.

  Sabine joined in, grabbing Forcan by the waist. Between the two of them they managed to pull him out of the shaft. Forcan lay panting on the stone floor in shock, his body deathly cold, his lips blue, tinged with a fine covering of ice.

  Sabine took her blades and cut savagely at the tendrils, they spasmed and after a few slashes released Forcan and retreated down the shaft. A long sigh rose from the darkness below.

  “You have forsaken us again, forsaken usss…”

  Sabine grabbed Forcan and pulled him away from the hole to one side. She started to remove the remaining tendrils from his torso. Colour started to return to his face, his eyes focused on her.

  “Jack, give me a hand,” Sabine called out. She saw Jack standing off to one side, unmoving. When he did not respond she turned to look, he was staring at a cloaked figure in the aisle. The figure held a staff, beside him stood a white panther, eyes gleaming.

  The figure spoke. “You dare defile the sacred library with your presence? You will die for this!” The man made a movement with his left hand, the white panther let out a growl and launched itself at Jack.

  Jack’s training kicked in, he threw himself back and across the shaft’s opening. He landed on the stone floor on the opposite side, wrenching his back. He groaned. The panther sailed through the air after Jack, over the open shaft. A rumbling sound came from below, yellow tendrils shot up from the shaft, snatching the big cat from the air. The tendrils pulled the panther down the hole, the sound of breaking bones filled the air.

  Jack looked across at the cloaked figure. “Get out of here while you can, that thing’s stronger than both of us. It’s coming for all of us.”

  The robed man ignored Jack and ran to the shaft, looked into the dark pit and without warning jumped in feet first. “By the Seven, I’ll send you back to the labyrinth where you belong.” He disappeared down the hole. A low rumbling, like thunder, came from below.

  Jack felt the floor vibrate and looked down, cracks appeared in the flagstones, dust fell from the rafters above. “Come on Sabine, let’s get out of here.”

  “Give me a hand with Forcan, he needs help.”

  Jack dragged himself up from the floor and went over to Sabine, together they managed to lift Forcan from the dais and back down the aisle to the hidden door. Jack looked at the stained glass in the vaulted ceiling. It was still dark outside, he must have been below ground for a few hours, it seemed like a few days. His head spun with all he had seen.

  He opened the hidden door and helped Forcan and Sabine. They staggered through the opening and heard a satisfying click when the door shut behind them. The floor was still shaking, dust filled the air.

  “Come on, this place could collapse at any time,” Jack spluttered.

  They threw themselves down the passage, there was no time to light a candle. The floor was level, Jack found the outer door, he grasped the handle and twisted. The old door opened, his heart leapt with relief.

  Sabine swept the hair out of her eyes and held Forcan up. He shook his head and stood, using his hands against the wall. “What the hell happened back there?”

  “Never mind, we’ve got to move. Can you manage?” Sabine asked.

  “Aye, I’ve got my legs back now. That yellow stuff sapped my strength. Let’s get going.”

  Jack nodded at Sabine letting her take the lead; this was her city. Forcan went next, Jack brought up the rear.

  They weaved through the dark streets, Sabine took a different route to Raven’s. Jack did not question her, she would have her reasons. Part of the way took them through a grim part of the city; a low hill scattered with gallows, stiff figures in nooses, the stench of death filling the air.

  Once the hill was behind them they returned to the city streets. The stink of humanity mixed with the smoke from innumerable hearths assaulted Jack. Rats scurried around their feet. Twice they ducked into alleyways to avoid the city guard. Soft drizzle began to fall and the sky lightened in the east.

  At last Jack recognised the street they were in. Raven’s house was up ahead; shelter, food, warmth. He breathed a sigh of relief when Raven opened the door to Sabine’s soft knock.

  Raven hovered in the doorway as they trooped in, delight evident on her face. She looked younger when she smiled, Jack noted. Forcan collapsed in a heap on the floor, exhausted. Sabine embraced her sister, they held each other for a long time.

  Raven lit a fire, their spirits soared with its light and warmth.

  “Wine, I would sell my kingdom for a mouthful of cherry wine,” Forcan declared.

  Sabine laughed. “Your kingdom? Don’t listen to him sister, he’s poor as a sewer rat. Break out that bottle we’ve been saving since the cavern job, Sun Veldt grapes… that should do the trick. We all need a drink.”

  Raven went to the adjoining room to retrieve the bottle, Sabine turned to Jack and looked him in the eye. She saw the mark of her blade on his throat, it had left a vicious bruise. “Sorry about that,” she indicated his neck, “we’d some trouble down there, I didn’t know which side you were on, couldn’t take any chances.”

  Jack reached up to his neck and winced. “You’ve a strong grip. Thought I was finished back there.”

  Raven’s voice came from the back room. “I’ve found it! Four bottles, one each. It’ll be a day by the fire recounting your adventures, just like old times Sabine.”

  Jack thought back to the robed figure in the library, what he had seen had turned his blood cold. When the mage had jumped into the shaft, his sleeve had rolled back, revealing his forearm.

  The mage’s skin was emblazoned with the same screaming hawk tattoo as Jack.

  Chapter 17: Proximity

  Levant looked at the tree.

  Curiosity, not emotion, peaked his interest. Three men lay impaled on the tree by the same giant arrow. Their arms tied, their eyes blindfolded; prisoners, someone had taken their lives. Levant smiled, he had seen atrocities in his time, they were always accompanied by emotion; emotion clouded reason. He liked the fact he had no emotion, he relished his lack of feeling.

  Detachment.

  He had passed through the overgrown town and wondered where all its people had gone; taken as slaves, killed or recruited by sorcery. He knew he
was approaching the rotten heart of the beast, he could feel the proximity of evil. It possessed an unmistakable warmth, making him eager to unleash the Blood Eagle; to take and feel the rush of life along its blade.

  The crow flew to his right and let out a cry. They were coming for him. He had seen them back in the forest, seven hounds, a pack, stalking him, edging forwards, darting, probing.

  He pushed his horse further into the town, ruins stood alongside undamaged buildings. He wondered at the randomness of destruction. Bodies lay strewn on the streets, some burned, others unmarked. He did not know what weapon the Sworn had used; he did not care. He was the hunter now, not the hunted.

  He was Levant, Draugr… Revenant.

  His horse stopped, the mare had served him well, she sensed danger and stood her ground.

  Levant waited. His breath misted the air, the temperature had dropped, the steely mountain air brought a chill to his bones.

  He closed his eyes and breathed. The hour was late; an hour before midnight.

  They came; as a blur, a wave, as one. Levant took the first blows without retaliation, luring them in, drawing them close. He waited, still, patient, eyes closed.

  The black hounds, emboldened by his passivity, closed in, their teeth tearing at his armour and his mount. The grey mare was hamstrung in the first strike. She collapsed silently beneath him, blood pouring from her legs and underside.

  Six hell hounds tore at the mare’s flesh, the scent of her blood filled the air, coppery and warm. Steam rose from her dying flesh. Levant inhaled her death and felt a terrible awakening. Fury stirred within him, somewhere deep and forgotten. He waited for the seventh hound.

  The alpha.

  Finally, the leader revealed itself… a huge beast. He had heard accounts of the northern dire wolves, had heard men describe them as the size of bears. So now he had seven hell hounds, a full pack, a worthy foe, he concluded. Levant quietened his breathing, he unsheathed the Blood Eagle.

  The black steel whispered as it emerged from the scabbard. His hand closed tightly around the hilt, his other hand reached out in counterbalance; a fine dance. The hell hounds were a blur of furious teeth, he felt no pain.

  Levant closed his eyes and reached for the fury within. He became one with the Blood Eagle. Its black blade swung in an arc, changing from one hand to another, he felt the distant tug of resistance as his blade bit through bone and sinew. He was deaf to the cries of pain and shrieks of fear, blind to the slick spray of blood that rained on the ground.

  Three of the hounds fell, dismembered, twitching, the light gone from their eyes. Levant could feel life rush up his blade; a lush pulse in the sword’s hilt.

  He followed the other figures darting around him, his blade never still; searching, seeking. He predicted their movements and placed the blade ahead of their strike, in their path. He caught two more hounds, severing the spine of one, the throat of another.

  Savage teeth ripped at his gorget, he felt the armour buckle under the onslaught. A splash of the hound’s saliva trickled onto his skin, it burned his flesh, burrowing like a worm. An interesting twist, acid saliva; thought had gone into the creation of these beasts. He reversed the Blood Eagle in his hand and gripped the blade like a club, using its heavy pommel to crush the skull of the sixth hell hound.

  “Mordstreich, a thing of beauty, a release to all torment… the kiss of death,” Levant whispered.

  The hound fell to the mud, its head a bloody mess.

  Silence returned to the street. He counted six hounds dead. He looked round waiting for the seventh. They had taken his mount, he would take them all in payment. A fair price. The alpha was biding its time.

  The crow screeched a warning high above, giving Levant a split second advantage. He turned, simultaneously bringing the blade up and stepping back. The massive hound launched itself from the roof of the closest building.

  The hell hound flew through the air, its body committed to the strike. Its jaws wide open, big enough to crush a man’s skull, strong enough to tear and rend plate armour.

  It met the Blood Eagle, which pierced its throat, plunging deep into its heart and lungs. The hound impaled itself on the Blood Eagle, the blade disappearing completely into its warm flesh.

  The hound died with a bloody gurgle, a great surge of energy shot into Levant’s arm as its life expired on the black steel. Levant shuddered in pleasure. The weight of the animal brought his arm down, the hound’s corpse slid on the blade to the ground.

  Seven accounted for, seven kills.

  Levant turned his face to the night sky. The moon shone wanly, lost in the starlit sky. He let out a cry that carried on the wind.

  From somewhere high in the firmament a crow called in response.

  “Is that the best you can do Sworn priest?” Levant hissed as he bent his knee to the earth to give thanks to the gods of war, as his father had taught him to.

  There was more to come.

  He had awakened a thirst in the Blood Eagle; a thirst that demanded to be quenched.

  Chapter 18: Reckonings

  “So you’re from “New York”? What kind of name is that?” Sabine asked.

  Jack touched his neck, his skin was on fire, his joints ached. He would have killed for a shower and some painkillers. “It’s a different place, you could call it a city of spires. Yes, it was my home until the virus… plague… struck. Then things became different.” He paused.

  Raven sensed his reticence. “What is it Jack Spence? Speak.”

  Jack looked at her, then Sabine. Forcan had his back to them, holding his hands to the fire. Jack heard his own heart, he felt alone, far from home.

  “I saw them.”

  Raven sighed. “When we were on the city walls?”

  “Yes.”

  “I thought so. You were affected by Valin’s magic, you caught a glimpse of something.”

  “I saw the same thing that came for my city, my world. A plague that steals life but leaves undead, infected, in its wake. Here, in your world hundreds of miles north of here, the same plague has been summoned, it’s gathering strength.”

  “New Haven’s been attacked three times already. There’s serious damage to the outer walls especially at the north gate. Repairs are being made but progress is slow, the only fighters who’ll man those walls are mercenaries.” Sabine’s eyes flicked to Forcan, a tense look clouded his face.

  Raven leaned forwards, her milky eyes staring into space. “So you know how to defeat the horde?”

  “No,” Jack declared. “I just survived, the best I could, there are things you can do… but they keep coming.”

  Sabine saw the hunted look in his eyes.

  Forcan turned and stared at Jack intently. “There’s something else Jack Spence, you’re keeping something back.”

  Jack stared at Forcan. It’s always the silent ones, he thought. He looked at Sabine and Raven in turn. “There’s someone else from my world here.”

  Silence filled the air.

  Jack lifted his sleeve revealing the tattoo emblazoned there. “The bastard who tried to kill us back in the library… he had one of these.”

  Sabine looked puzzled but did not speak.

  “So there’s more than one way between your world and ours,” Forcan said.

  “I don’t know what happened, how I got here, one minute I’m being attacked in a factory back home, next minute I’m here.” Jack looked at Raven.

  “It doesn’t matter, you’re here now. But the mage… what’s his story?” Sabine said.

  Jack stood and went to the door, he opened it to let fresh air in. Daylight outlined him. He turned and spoke. “We need to leave this city soon, they’re coming, all who are here will die, then they’ll come back, as one of them.” He shuddered and looked away, his eyes haunted by memories.

  “Aye, we need to get to the Rain Pools, maybe you’ll find some answers there. But first I’ve unfinished business at the north gate,” Forcan declared.

  Sabine looked at
Forcan, a man she now considered a friend. She did not have many friends in this world but he was one. “You’ll not go alone, I’ll come and help you. Durant has a bad reputation, how will you even get near him?”

  “No, I go alone. Durant is mine, there’s a ghost in me, I need to let go of her, them. This is the only way… I must do this myself.” He looked into Sabine’s eyes. “You promise not to follow me?”

  Sabine held his gaze for a few seconds, then backed down. “I don’t like it Forcan, I think you’re crazy, but yes, I promise… I’ll not follow you.”

  Forcan seemed satisfied, he nodded and stood up. He went to the door and opened it. His eyes searched the sky. “It’s late, I’ll be back by nightfall. I suggest you use the time well, prepare for a long journey on foot. The way to the Rain Pools is arduous and not without danger.” He nodded at Sabine then stepped out into the street and was gone.

  Jack looked back into the room. “You promised him, but I made no promise… I’ll be back.” Jack ducked out into the street and pulled the door after him.

  “It was always the way, men leave women behind to do the real work,” Raven sighed.

  Sabine looked at the fire. “Come sister, if Forcan succeeds at this folly we’ll need to make ourselves scarce and quickly. Let’s get things ready.”

  Jack followed Forcan.

  Forcan was tall, not easily missed. Jack managed to keep up with him, through the narrow streets and into the market district. Twice Forcan turned and looked back but Jack was well concealed.

  After the markets Forcan chose the temple district high up, overlooking the city walls. Jack found it more challenging to keep up with him there, the streets were broader and there were less people.

  He managed to keep Forcan in his sights, albeit at a greater distance. Jack looked down at the city from the temple heights, once again the lake below the citadel with its large central island caught his eye.