by JM Guillen
They chased me, Alicia had said.
They.
“Liz rolled for initiative.” I relaxed my mind and mentally reached for my secret strength. The moment I touched it, the bracelet also burst to life, a joyous echo of the tempest, the maelstrom of Wind that thundered within my mind.
“You should probably move along.” Honestly, I was just blathering as I tried to buy myself a moment. In the depths of my imagination, I called forth the Empyrean Seal I relied upon the most. The Seal of Oeriim.
The original creature regarded me for a moment, then lurched toward me.
It struck surprisingly fast. Several sharp, spindly talons on the end of its spiderlike legs swung toward me as it screeched, a high, keening wail.
“No!” I half whispered, half hissed, my hand held up in negation. I released the Wind.
Around me, those Empyrean sigils burst into a series of turquoise brilliance, burning with otherworldly light as the Wind coursed through them. Sourceless gusts tore around the room, whipping papers free from the register area and causing comic books to flip open.
The lumbering horror stopped abruptly as it slammed into an invisible wall of air. Its malformed head pressed against the unseen barrier, and opened unnaturally wide. It suckled against the barricade as it scraped at the floor with dozens of sharp fingers.
“Fuck.” My heart pounded as unreasonable terror burned in my veins. Just looking at the thing made my gorge rise.
“What about now, fucko?” I whispered sharply.
I kept part of my mind focused on that wall; wind didn’t like to remain in one shape. Still, it was a trick I had known for a while now—easy enough even without the special mojo in Simon’s gift.
“What?” it whisper-gurgled. “What, what, what. What.”
Behind the beast, the second dribble of sludge had begun to form into a pool, similar to the first. Already the first pseudopod had begun to birth its way out of the putrid blackness. It looked not unlike a canine skull that dripped with foulness.
“What.” The first creature reared itself up high and flattened against my wall of wind. Its mouth eagerly pressed against the nothingness there, showing me a maw that held a circle of tiny, hooked teeth.
As I stood there, eyes wide with mute wonder, a familiar CRACK shattered the quiet of the store. I turned sharply at the sound, my heart in my throat.
“No.” My gaze darted around frantically. “Please no!”
With another echoing CRACK, space itself rent around me, torn into fragments that flapped in an unholy wind. Darkness sundered its way through my store, and a thunderstorm of twilight shadows broke upon the world, shattering like a wave of grey filth.
That darkness howled. It screamed. It cried nameless names from the edge of existence.
Just like the hotel, just as in the anime room, another world intruded upon my own. A gloom-filled, shadowy place devoured the store itself.
“Oh no, no, no!” I whirled. That greyness spread across the floor, the walls of my store, stealing color from everything it touched. The store aged around me, the wooden beams cracking, the tile splintering.
The door, now aged beyond use, shattered into splinters as it burst open. A horror stepped through, a horned creature of wet ooze and insectine limb that made me stagger.
Can’t— Primal dread rippled off of the thing, wrongness that roiled in my stomach.
“Elizabeth.” Its words were like the grating of great stones, the purring rumble that large predators can create to strike terror. The amalgam of man, beast, and arachnid held a thick, wooden stave before it, a series of crimson runes inscribed along its length.
“Um, hello.” I scrambled away from the humanoid figure and tried in vain to count how many spindly arms bent and sprouted from its torso. Odd tendrils of putrid darkness—the same substance that had formed pools on my floor and birthed monsters—oozed from the abomination. Its face remained hidden by the substance, save for two scarlet eyes.
In the center of its forehead, a glyph shone, burning a furious crimson.
I gaped. The unnaturalness of the thing shattered any concept of nature, of basic biology. It had no mouth I could see, yet it spoke, as if such things did not concern it.
“You have met my hounds, I see.” That primordial voice thrummed through me. “I bid them only seek you. The Gaunt Man would not have his prize slaughtered, I think.” Several of the mutant’s insectine appendages twitched, almost as if in annoyance.
“Kind of you.” I took a careful step toward the hallway.
“They are innumerable.” As he spoke, the world trembled again, and the dark reflection of my store quaked. I watched as first one crack, then another, appeared in the wall and ceiling respectively.
Immediately, that loathsome muck dripped from the crevices.
“Innumerable, and they can follow you to the ends of existence.” The words skittered in my mind, like insectine burrowers. “Surely you can see the folly of attempting escape.”
“One would think.” I glanced down, not willing to meet the horror’s eyes.
“Even if you escaped me, there would come another.”
“Is the next Billy Goat Gruff even bigger than you are?” I glanced behind him, wondering how far I’d have to run to lure him from my friends.
“Mirth will not shelter you. Not now.” From the two new cracks on my walls, filth and darkness poured and created pools on the ground. I had no doubt that, in moments, wolfish, insectine abominations would be birthed, writhing abortions of visceral terror.
I had to forcibly turn away. Just watching them made my gorge rise.
“Your situation is impossible, Elizabeth.”
“Liz,” I corrected numbly. “And perhaps not.” I reached for the Wind, trembling.
“You must have learned as much.”
“Well,” I raised my head to the houndsman abomination. Raw, liquid terror coursed through me the moment we locked gazes. “I have this thing about never learning my lessons.”
“Do you? Do you find such a choice to be wise?”
From upstairs, Alicia screamed, a wail of terror and agony. That cry struck me in the gut, an elemental, primal thing of burning pain.
“The choices you make might affect more than just yourself, Elizabeth.” The Houndsman simply gazed at me, its eyes enigmatic. “Perhaps you need to reconsider.”
5
“Fuck. You.” I had no idea what the creature had done, but I could guess. While I stood and chatted, he had sent some of his hounds behind me, after my friends as they hid above. If he held them, he must reason, I’d easily agree to his demands.
They would be practically helpless.
I spun in place and kept my wall of air intact. It took focus, an amount of mental discipline I might have lacked a few months ago. Now, however, with the bolstering of the Aegis on my wrist, it felt almost easy.
“Elizabeth,” the Houndsman’s voice warned, “do not turn your back on me.”
“I don’t take direction well.”
I sprinted, at almost full speed before I took three steps. Even though I stood in Mister Lorne’s sideward nightmare, I knew the basic shape of space remained the same. This had been true every time he’d sent one of his sweet little messengers.
The pull string had become a rusted chain where it dangled from the ceiling. Knucklebones’ walls were now a solid brick. The trapdoor looked old—as old as everything else in this place, but it still pulled.
The ladder dropped, but creaked and groaned with protest.
“Trapped,” the being behind me gloated. “Nowhere to run.”
“Running is what I do best.”
“We shall see.” The thing paused. When it spoke again, the word burned in the air and branded my mind with eldritch sign. It gestured with one hand, its fingers twitched into arcane patterns.
“Gyrmmnin.” The terror struck its stave against the floor.
Pain. Pain like fire, like knives in my eyes.
I gasped a
nd turned around and—
My wrist. The bracelet on my wrist buzzed and crackled with the fury of dozens of angry hornets. That pain stabbed again; I fell forward to the floor as if I’d just been knocked flat with a sledgehammer.
“What?” I gazed blearily around and realized what happened.
It had shattered my wall of Wind.
“Oh. Oh, good.” I froze for a moment as the Houndsman stepped forward, horrific unreality burning in its eyes.
“You know not what you dally with.” The building quaked again. Dust fell from the ceiling, and cracks appeared in the wall on my left.
“No.” I pushed myself up and glanced at the miscreation. “Just no.”
“Yes, child.” It strode forward, confident, almost mechanical in its awfulness. “The time for sport is at an end.”
Before it took two steps, I grasped the Wind again and rose shakily to my feet. The bracelet sang against my skin.
The moment I had a grip on the Wind, I brought to mind another of the Empyrean Seals Simon had taught me, the Seal of A’grimm. Currents circled, a miniature thunderstorm in a tumult, a hurricane of fury. That power exploded into the Empyrean symbols and cast a cobalt glow around the room.
I hurled the knife, threw it even as the Wind whispered in my mind. I shaped every gust of air around me, and hurled that knife with more force than a Gatling gun’s blast.
The blade struck it in the chest, and tore through the aberration.
“AAAACK!” Wet, dripping blackness splattered on the walls around it, and the creature roared, staggering several steps backward.
Staggered, but did not fall.
“Stupid little bitch.” The monstrosity shook its head as it regained its balance. “Perhaps the Gaunt Man shall not have his prize. Perhaps she shall die, screaming.”
No time for snark. I scurried up the ladder, primal terror burning in my chest. Once there, I stared down, eyeing the wounded Houndsman.
And I pulled the trapdoor shut.
6
“Guys?” I stepped forward.
The room glowed with gentle light and shadows stretched off into the murky distance. The sideways-nightmare version of Knucklebones stretched before me like a labyrinthine, haunted library. Here, instead of white Christmas lights, white candles burned, stacked on ancient bookshelves. The room still held all manner of odd bits of detritus; oil lanterns, a table equipped for taxidermy, and tapestries along one wall. As I stepped forward, I kicked at a scattered pile of small, inhuman bones.
In the darkness, something tittered.
“I’m ignoring that!” I canted one ear, hoping to determine the direction of the sound. “I didn’t hear anything weird and creepy, because there’s nothing weird and creepy here.”
As hoped, silence responded.
“Good.” I wasn’t interested in meeting the locals or taking my time to dig through the shadows for souvenirs.
Where did the hounds go? I had assumed the horrific creature below had sent his vassals up to capture my friends. But, thus far, I saw no sign of them.
I went forward a few steps and frowned when I realized I had no way of knowing where my friends were. If this was simply the attic, I knew exactly the direction to go. But now towering bookshelves loomed over me, intersecting each other in a dizzying array of confusion. They might have gone anywhere.
“Guys? ’Licia?” I called softly as I trotted into the half-dark. I hoped I’d kept the panic out of my voice.
Maybe we could break the window, if it’s still there, I reasoned wildly. I dunno if I can fly other people out, but Feather Fall? Maybe. It’s only a story or so.
“Liz!” Baxter called from the darkness near where the desk used to be. “We’re over here!”
A desk still stood in that spot, an ancient rolltop construction that looked older than I did. The two guys stood near the desk and gaped at Alicia.
She stood close to the canopy bed, gazing blankly at nothingness.
“The window,” I gasped and gestured wildly. It was still there, although in this hall-of- mirrors version of reality it had become a giant, stained-glass thing. “If we can break it, we can get down into the street! It’s the only way to get away from him.”
“Him?” Baxter turned to me. “What the fuck, Liz! What’s happening?” He flung his arm about. “Why does the attic suddenly look like an evil wizard’s lair?”
“It… It’s just like in the anime room. Remember before the spirit came? Remember how reality changed into… into somewhere else?”
“Oh, God!” The color drained from Baxter’s face. “Oh no!”
“Maybe use the chair?” Rehl lifted the heavy old chair by the desk. “I can break a window with this, I guarantee it.”
“Yes.” I nodded. “I dunno if I can take care of the spookiness downstairs, but I’m certain I can’t take it and watch out for you guys.”
“Okay.” Rehl nodded once. “That’s the plan then.”
“No.” Alicia’s tone was light, airy. The ring in that voice sounded otherworldly.
“No?” I turned to her. “Did you have a better idea?”
“Yes.” She gazed at me for a long moment. “I do have a better idea.”
“Could you —?”
“Liz?” Rehl hefted the chair. “If this is our play, we should move.”
“It is, but—” I didn’t take my eyes off Alicia. “What did she scream for? Earlier, I mean.” I turned to Baxter. “I thought the wolf-things came up here.”
“No.” He held his hands up, completely baffled. “Rehl and I were trying to figure out a plan. Alicia seemed more than a little addled.”
“We were talking, and then she screamed and fell to the floor.”
“She was too large.” Alicia’s voice sounded drastically different than I had ever heard before. Her voice seemed small, petite in an almost fairy kind of way. “Too much at first.”
“Who?” I took a step toward Alicia, everything else forgotten. “Who seemed too large?”
Rather than answer me, Alicia turned her head toward the desk. I followed her gaze down to several stacked and dusty tomes, an ink pot, and…
…and the puzzle box.
I’d haphazardly fiddled with the thing as I read, and had almost solved its mystery. Now it lay wide open, empty.
“She had it in her hand when,” Baxter gestured all around us, “everything changed.”
“Alicia,” I stepped closer to her and put one hand on her shoulder. “What have you done?”
Before she could answer, the splintering of wood cracked from behind us. Simultaneously, we all started, and our heads jerked in the direction of the trap door.
It had broken through.
“Elizabeth!” The Houndsman’s voice boomed through the darkness.
“See?” Alicia held up a small coin, silver on the outside with what seemed to be a band of gold around the center. It had been engraved with Empyrean sigils. “She was hidden inside, until I said her Name. She showed me. Made me understand.”
I stared at the coin and my eyes grew wide. Inscribed into the center of the thing gleamed a single word, written in the Empyrean tongue.
Abriel.
“Liz?” Rehl still held the chair and looked back and forth between Alicia and me. “Are we doing this?”
“Maybe.”
“No.” Alicia smiled at me, a guileless sunny smile. In that moment, I thought perhaps it was the happiest I had ever seen her.
When she spoke again, that single syllable was like sunlight in the depths of the world.
“Abriel.” She turned from me and gazed into the darkness toward the far side of the room. “Come. Bring truth. Show us what cannot be seen.”
I had never heard Alicia’s voice echo like that, a soprano sweetness that cast itself out into the darkest corners of reality. Other than Simon, I had never heard anyone speak the Empyrean tongue.
Abriel…
Came.
She tumbled into the attic like the primal c
oncepts of secrets, of hidden things. I felt her in my mind, the elemental embodiment of mysteries that man was never meant to grasp.
She wasn’t something to be seen. Her presence felt like a wisp of silk, like a dream that one had forgotten. I knew if I really looked, perhaps while I grasped my power, I might see something.
I also knew that what I saw might drive me mad.
She was like the breath of a ghost. She was the shadow on the far side of the moon.
“Oh,” Baxter blinked and glanced around us. “Um, Liz?”
I turned, ready to tell Rehl take out the window. But the moment I turned away from Alicia, I saw what Bax referred to.
The Aegis of Dudael.
It burned beneath our feet, a furious, eldritch blue flame which drove back the shadowed darkness. The charm on my bracelet glowed as well, mirroring that cobalt glow.
“Look.” Alicia’s smiled radiantly, beatific. “Look at Abrial’s light.”
“I have chosen kindness,” the Houndsman bellowed from the far side of the room. “I have done as the Gaunt Man would have me do.”
The room shook again, that familiar quake. I knew what that had to mean, knew that the creature had summoned even more of its eldritch hounds.
“Perhaps I made a mistake,” it continued as the quaking went on. “Perhaps you are one who must be taught.”
Those words held a visceral threat, made my skin crawl and my heart pound.
“That our guy?” Baxter turned from Rehl to me.
“Yeah.” I gave him a nod. Yet in that moment this was not what held my attention.
Abriel’s light had changed the room.
No longer did the attic look like one of the Gaunt Man’s sideward worlds. Nor did it appear to be a conglomeration of my father’s detritus and garage sale garbage.
Beneath that brilliant glow, the attic unfurled like a flower. Now I saw what I was certain had to be the truth. Had always been the truth.
The attic was a damned war room.
“What. The. Hell!” Rehl demanded. “Liz?”
“I just don’t know.” I peered around in the airy, open space. The room opened to the rafters which were far further above my head than I’d assumed previously. Against the far wall, a few standing targets had been set up under track lighting that must have been specifically installed just to highlight them. Maps of the city covered the desk.