Austerley & Kirgordon Adventures Box Set

by G R Jordan

  The Platform

  Calandra watched as they tied Alana’s hands behind her back, seeing her wince as the ropes cut in tight to her wrists. Her own arms were then roughly forced behind her back and she felt cord being tightened against her skin. In her eight hundred years this had hardly been an uncommon experience but she always hated the insinuation someone was going to force her into something. Brought up to be a fighter, a usurper, this was a red rag to a bull.

  One of the frog-men had a trident and pushed the sharp tips onto Alana’s back, making her stumble forward. Falling into line before they forced her, Calandra projected the image of a broken woman but underneath was already working out how many she could take on at once. Being without a weapon may have reduced that number, but it was still a high count.

  She watched Alana in front of her, staggering along, a miserable figure. The woman was sniffling, outright crying at times. She seemed so soft, so delicate, and Calandra wondered why Kirkgordon loved her. Yes, her figure was curvy, attractive, but certainly not as honed as Calandra’s. She was like any number of women, really. Dark hair, warm eyes, Kirkgordon had once said. But these eyes were scared, panicked and weary. Did she have no spirit to kick back with?

  Alana fell to the ground as they walked along the outside corridor. A frog-man grabbed her and turned her over. He motioned her to get up but Alana continued to lie there. Get up girl, thought Calandra, otherwise he’s going to hit you. Better to get up and walk and be ready.

  The frog-man prodded Alana again before grabbing her robe by the front and hauling her to her feet. She spat into his eyes and he slapped her hard with the back of his hand. Falling to the floor, Alana rolled in pain before settling to a quiet whimper. There was a croak from the frog-man and two others disappeared to return with a pole. They bound Alana’s hands and feet to it and picked up the pole to carry her. They had bound her with her back facing the pole. Calandra knew how painful it was to be carried like that.

  The party proceeded and Calandra wondered if Alana had passed out, as she had stopped whimpering. The walls changed to a black stone she didn’t recognize and the torch-lit corridors continued. After what seemed to be an hour of walking they suddenly emerged into a vast room. The ceiling was far above them, lost in the dark, and the walls built of that dark stone were smooth and massive. Each brick was at least ten persons high. The scale was enormous and Calandra understood that they were in the territory of the Elder Beings.

  Soon there appeared a small door in the wall. Calandra was ushered inside and made to stand before a frog-men dressed in the, at one time, most elaborate clothes. But the purple had faded from his gown, there were threads hanging from his trousers, and the shoes had split. Calandra became aware of a heaviness in the air, a darkness pervading her mind.

  She had always prided herself on her strength of mind. In battle she had seen loved ones fall beside her yet still she continued in a cold, methodical manner until the job was done. But there was something gnawing at her as this buffoon-like priest wafted some incense around her.

  Feeling her eyes becoming heavy, she closed them and was taken to a pleasant scene of a bedroom with sun shining outside. There was a balcony beyond and she recognized the back of Kirkgordon, stood in just a short, thin gown. He was watching something at the corner of the balcony out of her view. He was smiling and she saw the cause of his joy as Alana strode across to him, dropped the towel that was wrapped around her and embraced him passionately.

  Calandra walked out to the balcony and put herself in their view. She called to him but he turned and pointed at her, shouting “freak!” She put her hands up, trying to block out the view as Kirkgordon continued with an unbridled hated, screaming she was an abomination. Then she spotted Austerley on the beach.

  Vaulting from the balcony, she ran to him, but he slapped her across the face with the back of his hand. She looked up to find him kissing a frog-woman. He turned and cried she wasn’t enough of a freak, she was trying to be too normal. And then there was a crowd around her. People she had never met were shouting at her as she fell to the sand and curled up into a ball. Was there nowhere she was wanted?

  Her eyes snapped open to see the elaborately dressed frog-man moving over to Alana. As Calandra tried to push away the visions she’d seen, she heard Alana crying out in pain, calling her a bitch and telling her to stop doing that to her husband. Calandra knew what was happening, she knew this was a drug to enhance the despair caused by Dagon’s presence, but all she could think was that she could let Alana go to her doom, escape and take Kirkgordon for herself. She would be free to have him and they would both be free of this snivelling bitch before her.

  The frog-man indicated it was time to go. Calandra walked past Alana, who suddenly reached out with her head and bit down hard on Calandra’s ankle. Kicking with her other foot, Calandra broke the attachment and dropped to her knees before head-butting Alana, drilling her head onto the stone floor. Two frog-men grabbed her arms and threw her out of the door but as she looked back she saw the blood flowing from Alana’s head and the indented cheek bone. She didn’t care.

  The frog-men took them further along the vast corridor until they came to a cut-through passage. Here the passage was dark but there was a light at the far end. Prodded forward, Calandra walked out of the passage and into an enormous cavern.

  Standing on a ledge only a few feet wide she struggled to take it in. Directly before her was a wooden structure which led out into open air and which seemed unsupported. Calandra was forced onto the rickety floor and along the framework, which was wide enough for only one person. Cracking and creaking as they walked along it, the wood managed to support their weight until the thin bridge they were on reached some stairs that descended far below.

  Looking over the side, Calandra saw a mass of swirling stars which seemed to be slightly veiled. Amongst the stars something moved, swimming about in the void. It was indistinct and Calandra was wondering what it could be until two red eyes stared back at her. Dagon. And again she saw Kirkgordon shouting “freak”. Dropping her head she fell into a morose state, complaining about that “bitch” behind her.

  The stairs turned in a tight fashion and descended closer and closer to the void below. It seemed an age as they made their way downwards but eventually the stairs ended in a large platform. At the far end there was a post upon which sat a crossbeam with a winding device rigged through it. A rope with a hook on the end hung from the beam. There were barriers around the platform’s edges but no supports. Calandra didn’t understand how the whole structure was supported but she didn’t care. That bitch was going to die and then she would escape and have her man.

  The frog-men dumped the women on either side of the platform. They left the women’s hands bound but untied Alana from the pole. The frog-men stood guard over them but seemed to be at a loss as to what to do next. Sitting down, Calandra began to formulate her escape plan. She wondered how she could work this so that Alana would be disposed of first. At worst, she’d have to throw her off the platform. The escape back up the structure would be hard but at least she’d only be fighting one frog-man at a time. The narrowness of the structure would see to that. And besides, if things got bad she could always rely on her cold inner persona.

  We will have him, my dear. We shall love him, we shall own him. And this excuse for a woman will be gone. Gone! She’s not fit to live, not fit to own the name of woman. Calandra listened as the voice continued. It ended with a cackle.

  There was movement on the stairs; there were feet involved, and not just webbed ones. The solid stomping sounds were so very different to the hopping thuds. Calandra considered who might be coming. There was no sense of panic from the person, and indeed the simple easy repetition of the gait reminded her of someone. Havers was here! He had made it. Well, he had better fall in line with her plans.

  “Miss Calandra. Haven’t we got ourselves into a right mess?” A webbed hand slapped her face and Calandra spat at the ground in disgus
t. Bloody Farthington. He looked a mess. His missing eye was now accompanied by scars all over his face. His right leg had a deep gouge in it and she was sure his left arm was broken. But he retained an upright posture, giving a sense of control.

  “I see Dagon is honouring us with his presence today, awfully kind of him really. As an Elder god he must have better things to do. Oh, I see you’ve met Kirkgordon’s woman. Shame she had to be brought into this, but then, if they hadn’t have forced my hand at Dillingham… Indeed, if you hadn’t been a thorn in Russia, all this would have been very different.”

  “She deserves to die. And so do you. If Dagon doesn’t get you, I’ll kill you with her.”

  Farthington stepped back, a little perplexed. But then he rallied and struck up his arrogant pose again. “Ah, for someone so outwardly impressive you fail so poorly in the mind. Dagon will rip that mind to shreds. You really should learn to control yourself, you could be useful to him, like me.”

  Calandra wondered what this meant, but it didn’t matter. She would take matters into her own hands when the time came, and that time would be soon.

  A guard walked over to Alana as the frog-man in the purple robe came down the stairs onto the platform. Calandra watched Alana being taken to the crossbeam and attached to the hook, her hands still behind her. The rope was tightened and Alana was hoisted into the air. Her shoulder blades strained at the weight and she began to scream out in pain. The frog-men ignored her cries for help and swung the crossbeam out from the platform so that she hung over the edge. With a croak of command, they began to lower her towards the swirling mass below.

  Redemption

  Nefol was still struggling and Kirkgordon thought about picking her up on his shoulders for a while but she would probably have resented the implication that she was a child. His own kids were younger and in some ways easier. The whole teenage thing was a complete mystery to him.

  “You okay?”

  “Yeah, only been poisoned twice so far, so why wouldn’t I be? I’m just terrific.”

  Just when you think you’re making a connection, thought Kirkgordon. Anyway, I can’t worry about everyone, not this time. I need to get to Alana. First and foremost, find Alana.

  Havers piped up to say that there was a tunnel ahead, small, unlike the massive cavern they had been walking in. Kirkgordon pointed onward and then wondered what it must have been like seeing these massive creatures from elsewhere roaming this place. But then he figured that it had probably been pretty dangerous and tried to stop thinking about it.

  “I’m here.”

  The voice was low and rumbling. Austerley must have heard it too, as he threw a backwards glance at Kirkgordon. Watching his compatriot closely, Kirkgordon saw the professor drop his head soon afterwards. He was barely moving. Austerley’s inaction was worrying; he was obviously not in the correct frame of mind for what was happening. Dammit, Indy, thought Kirkgordon, I really need you this time.

  They walked through the dark tunnel and were flagged down low by Havers as they reached its conclusion.

  “This must be where the connection to his world is,” suggested Havers. “There’s a floating platform of some kind with a few people down there. Well, a few frog-men anyway. From this angle I can’t see anything else. She may not be down there, Mr Kirkgordon. And I certainly can’t see Farthington.”

  Austerley had been let down to the ground by Havers but he had curled up into a ball. His shoulders started to shake and he began to choke up. Dammit Austerley, I need you now, thought Kirkgordon.

  “Nefol,” said Kirkgordon, “see if you can move around the walls and get a better look at who’s on that platform. Havers, stay on guard while I sort Austerley out.”

  Havers took up a position just along from where they had entered. They were on a small crevice but leading away from it was a narrow path cut into the wall. This in turn led across to another tunnel in the far wall and it was from there that the platform structure began with a wooden bridge. A bridge with no supports.

  Nefol by contrast climbed onto the vast wall and found a gap between the huge blocks of stone. Her small size and nimble abilities made her a perfect match to scoot along the indentation and she scampered quickly.

  Taking a look over the edge, Kirkgordon nearly swooned as he looked into a mass of stars and what he could only think of as galaxies. Far down there was a skin or a transparent surface but nonetheless he felt like he was sitting on a park bench looking out into space. And then he saw something move in the blackness below. There was a wing, talons and then two red eyes.

  Kirkgordon saw a large pair of scales in front of him, two blackened pans hanging from a single point by enormous chains. He stared up at them and saw two figures, one climbing to the rim of each pan. One stood upright, looking like an ice figure. He recognized the shapely curves. On the other pan, a broken woman, twisted and ragged, pointed at him.

  “You didn’t save me. You tell the kids, see how they’ll hate you. Murderer of their mother.”

  Dear God, no, no, thought Kirkgordon. This can’t be, it won’t be. No! What have I done to her?

  It was Alana, but not how Kirkgordon knew her. This was a creature of hate, of anger and pain. This was not the woman he had fallen in love with, married, had two children with. This was not his Alana. Then he saw a staff spin towards her from the direction of the ice woman. He could only watch as it knocked Alana off her pan and she fell into the void below. Kirkgordon thought he heard a cackle.

  A blinding light flashed over the pans and there fell from the sky a large man, misshapen with a missing foot. He was bathed in light, shining like the sun through a stained glass window. Austerley!

  Kirkgordon opened his eyes in a state of terror and confusion. His mind reeled at what had just happened to Alana. How could he ever have let her become involved in this?

  “Churchy, it’s my fault,” said Austerley. “Dagon’s showing me. It’s all been me. I’m pathetic. I’ve no right, no right.”

  “What are you talking about? Indy, I brought us here. I’ve lost Alana already. She’ll never be the same.”

  Austerley stared up at Kirkgordon standing over him. “But you always have hope. You always keep going. Dragging my arse here and there, swearing at me and shouting, but you always keep going and see it through. This is from him, Churchy. This is from Dagon. You’re not to blame. I got us here.”

  Kirkgordon turned away at this puerile attempt to pacify him and almost got knocked over by Nefol. She had just jumped back down from the wall, breathless and excited.

  “I can see them. There’s two women down there, black hair. Two women, Kirkgordon. We’ve found Cally. I’ve seen Cally.”

  Kirkgordon began to lift his head but then laughed coldly.

  “We’re too late, Nefol. Don’t you see, we’re too late. I did this to them.”

  Nefol’s face exploded in anger and she shoved Kirkgordon into the wall, before drawing her knives and running for the path to the other tunnel. Ahead was Havers; he had started running too. Kirkgordon watched them go but he had no compulsion to join their efforts. It was all over. All done. He didn’t want to witness it.

  Austerley grabbed Kirkgordon’s leg and pulled hard.

  “What?”

  “Get me up, get me up.”

  Kirkgordon cursed but pulled Austerley up and then swore as the professor leaned heavily on him.

  “Take me across the path.”

  “It’s too late, Indy, they’re as good as dead. It’s all pointless.”

  “Humour me,” said Austerley. “For once, just bloody humour me.”

  Together the world’s slowest three-legged team stuttered its way along the path with a vertical drop beside them of unimaginable proportions. But it was Austerley forcing the pace, despite his impediment, almost whipping Kirkgordon’s back with his hand, demanding a faster response.

  “Churchy, look. Havers, he’s at full sprint for the platform. Look at the bridge. I’d swear that’s Farthington. Th
at’s bloody Farthington. That means we have time.”

  “There’s no time. There’s nothing. Just death. Better to go with her.”

  “Shut up and keep up. I need to be able to see what’s happening. I need to see.”

  Nefol was running as hard as she could but she couldn’t match Havers’ pace. She had seen Farthington and realized that he must be about to take part in whatever was going to happen on that platform. The distance was just so great. And there would be frog-men to deal with. But Dad would have done this. Dad would have run into this for anyone, let alone a friend. I’m coming, Cally. I’m coming.

  *

  Alana had shut her eyes tight when they had swung her out over the drop. Now she could hear the croaks and loud, unholy noises of the frog-men as she descended. It was like that stupid ride she had been on at the fun park. They were both young, only just going together. It had dropped from a height, straight down, lifting her stomach up into her throat. Several times it had gone up and down before coming to a halt. When the restraints were lifted she had thrown herself into his arms. Both mere teenagers, she had only gone on the ride because of him. And then she realized he had known she loathed such rides. His plan had worked, she snuggled deep into his arms.

  That had been a time when he was always around her, almost smothering her with his presence. But she had loved it. After marriage he had gone overseas so often with the job. He was good at protection and she had never truly feared that he would be tempted by the women on the arms of his protectees. But after he quit he had become restless. He meant so much to her but she could never reach that one place. And now it had brought her to this.

  Alana opened her eyes and her scream caught in her throat. Below her she saw the stars, the swirling galaxies and the cosmos before her. Her mind saw the thin veil and the small opening she was being lowered towards. Terror ripped through her mind as she saw it through the gap. The talons on its wings, the tentacles from beneath, the red eyes that burned like hellfire. It was as if the devil had just grabbed a hold of her soul.