“It looks good,” he said. “I see now what you were going for.”
Angelique didn’t spare him a glance. Instead, she motioned to Ba’al, who had a lit torch in his hands. He stepped over to the first barrel and its contents lit with an audible “whoosh!” After a few seconds he lit the other barrel, as well, from the torch’s touch. The flames climbed several feet above the top edge of the containers.
“The others have finished their sweep of the rest of the resort. We are the only ones left,” Masaal said, his gaze transfixed by the orange flickering from the stage.
“Excellent. Come with me.”
Angelique walked down the aisle to the front of the stage, then crossed to one of the sets of steps leading up to its surface. She joined Ba’al where he stood near the closest blazing barrel. In silence, she held out her hand and Ba’al handed the torch to her.
Masaal watched from where he stood near the front of the stage as the Dark Lady turned her attention to the unlit fire pit and the noxious concoction of ingredients she had placed within. She walked over and, muttering a few unintelligible words of power, tossed the torch into the pit. It ignited with a burst of sparks and flame that nearly scorched Masaal’s face, driving him back from the edge of the fire pit.
He cursed under his breath, wiping the back of a hand across his forehead, then feeling his face to make sure he hadn’t been burned.
“You could have warned me!”
Angelique looked at him.
“Why?” the Dark Lady asked. “You would be as valuable to me burned as whole.”
At that moment, any disillusion of his value to the Dark Lady vanished. She needed him in order for the summoning ritual to work and nothing else. Beyond that, he could have provided the blood for the painted runes and sigils himself, if need be.
The Dark Lady returned her attention to the colorful flames rising before her. The volume of her voice increased as she chanted in the ancient language of the Heralds. As the ritual casting progressed, the feeling of power intensified around her.
Masaal could feel it as a palpable force, corruption from the darkest pits of the Void pushing out against the very nature of reality. He had no idea what she had planned; Angelique had kept this part of her plan to herself. But he suspected it would be epic enough that no one would lack understanding later.
As her chants reached a crescendo, she threw a small bag of her own devising into the fire pit. It coughed and sparked and for a moment Masaal thought it had flamed out. Then it ignited and sent a pillar of green flame rocketing into the sky. Above the top of the high stretch of flame, even the cloud cover roiled around itself.
The pillar burned for several seconds, during which, Masaal tore his eyes away and looked around him. He hadn’t noticed the other ten rogues enter the theater. They all stood around, gazes glued to the magnificent sight.
When the flame suddenly banked out, it left a power vacuum which almost sucked in on itself. Masaal felt it pull against him for a couple of heartbeats before reality normalized around him.
“What was that?” he gasped. He hadn’t realized he had hunched over to catch his breath.
“A little diversion I planned for anyone the Order of Angels may have sent to find us,” Angelique said. “This valley is a nexus of power, more than I experienced even in my own life. It would be a shame not to put it to some use.”
Across the valley, Kiah almost collapsed without warning. He managed to catch hold of Levahn’s arm and kept from hitting the ground, but barely. His vision swam, creating a fluid smear of colors out of the people wandering the midway.
“What’s wrong?” Levahn asked, trying to give Kiah some additional support.
“Everything,” Kiah replied, managing to straighten up. He looked haggard, older somehow. “I’m not sure what just happened, but it can’t be good.”
“I don’t like the sound of that,” Levahn said.
Kiah nodded. “Come on, let’s get with the others.” He led Levahn back into the crush of Centennial attendees.
Chapter 48
“Hellion Slither Into the Valley”
In a long-forgotten, forested area on the edge of Shadow Valley, the trees shivered and shook, as if in a strong breeze. No wind blew. Still, the trees quaked, then creaked loudly as a powerful wave of corruption blasted through the glade. With it came an edgy eeriness that the area didn’t have moments before. The shadows deepened against the wilting trees until they disappeared into the Void entirely. From that darkness, something emitted a low vibration, which, after several seconds, became a low growl. A few moments later, first one clawed paw then another emerged and tore the stony ground; a saber-toothed muzzle of black followed as a hellhound that stood taller at its head than the average human male, stalked out onto the canyon jetty. The stench of rotten meat and pungent sulfur followed it. Beneath the creature’s flexing paws, the wild grasses seemed to dry and withdraw from its touch and claws tore into the solid stone. The beast turned its monstrous, bone-armored head first to the left, then to the right. The hellhound shook out it mangy black ruff, saliva mixed with yellow foam splattering the ground and causing the vegetation it touched to instantly blacken and die. The foot-long quills lining its spine flexed out, then lay back a bit as it sniffed loudly, tasting the air for anything of interest. Without the stenches of the Great Void overloading its senses, there were so many new scents to experience.
Below, Shadow Valley was lit by white and yellow street lamps, the pale illumination from thousands of homes and the sparkling of the fireworks over the fairgrounds on the far side of the valley.
Satisfied that nothing lingered nearby to threaten it, the beast took in two expansive breaths, then let out a roar that echoed back and forth across the valley. To some, it may sound like thunder, to others maybe the rumble of an impending earthquake, but to all, it chilled to the bone.
From the Void, another clawed paw emerged. More creatures emerged from the rift in the Veil that Angelique’s workings created. A pack of hellhounds joined their leader on the mountain outlook. Several octocrawlers, slimy land dwellers with eight tentacles, each equipped with hundreds of sharp spikes that could rend human flesh to a pulp, crawled out and began to descend the cliff face. Their spiked tentacles made the going easy. Over a dozen shadow stalkers, long-limbed humanoid creatures with the ability to move from patches of darkness like stepping stones, began to swiftly vanish into the canyon, their taste for human pain and misery driving them forward.
The alpha hellhound paid no attention to the rest of the hellions that streamed from the tear in the Veil. He growled from deep in his chest and the other hellhounds responded by scattering in different directions, each intent on getting to the bottom of the tall canyon.
Then, with a mighty leap, the alpha launched itself from the stone jetty and free-fell, front limbs extended, until it impacted on a small outcropping mid-way down the cliff. Muscles bulged and flexed, absorbing the impact and transferring the energy to another free-fall toward the canyon floor.
The alpha reached the bottom of the cliff long before the rest of its pack. Standing motionless as it listened, the beast’s skin rippled beneath the flex of its powerful body. Satisfied that the pack would not be long behind it, the alpha stepped forward into the small stream that emptied out from the canyon behind it. The water steamed and hissed every place it touched the creature’s black-as-pitch skin, to which the alpha took no notice. It had spotted a small hillock not far off that had a good view of the immediate area. There it would wait for the rest of the pack. From there the pack would descend and wreak pain and suffering upon the unsuspecting town.
Chapter 49
“Complication”
Kathryn and her team of SoulChasers slowed to a crawl on the road outside of Shadow Valley. She sat astride a mid-size motorcycle painted in various shades of gray primer paint and
rust. Her helmet, which under normal circumstances she would wear, sat strapped to the passenger seatback behind Dillon.
Her eyes took in the crowds of pedestrians all walking in their same direction. There must have been hundreds, conversing as they walked, laughing and carrying on and having a great time.
“Um... this is interesting,” Dillon said, his breath tickling the back of her right ear.
Trying to ignore the passion chills that his words caused, Kathryn said, “What do you think is going on?”
“I saw a big sign on the way in that talked about a carnival or something. Maybe that’s it.”
Kathryn shook her head in disbelief. “This is going to make our job that much more complicated.”
“You sure this is the place?” Dillon asked.
Kathryn tried to look over her shoulder to glare at him, but the bike wobbled and she snapped back to the job of riding. “Don’t you feel the SoulStar’s reaction to this place?”
“Of course. I was hoping it was just me,” Dillon said.
“Nope, the rogues are here. It’s now a matter of finding them before they do any real damage.”
Rather than slow to a stop, Kathryn set her shoulders in determination and led her team into the heart of Shadow Valley.
Chapter 50
“Plots Within Plots”
In the deepening shadows of the Landmark Resort, flush from the successful ritual at the theater, Angelique walked down the midway with determined strides. Beside her, Masaal kept pace without looking like it took any effort.
Her phone rang and she snapped it open.
“Yes? Hello, Clovis.”
Masaal raised an eyebrow at the mention of the rogue’s name.
Angelique stopped and said, “Clovis, I need you to focus. I know it’s hard. You have news for me, yes?”
Masaal took a few extra steps, then stopped and waited, listening. The shadows across his face gave him a sunken, brooding look.
“Excellent. Where are they?” she said.
From Masaal’s point of view, “they” could only mean one thing.
“That’s good, Clovis. That’s very good. We’re not far,” Angelique said. “Masaal will come and find you and you can lead him to them.”
A sadistic smile curved the ends of Masaal’s mouth.
Shaking her head to the phone, Angelique said, “No, don’t do anything more. Clovis! I mean it! Wait for Masaal. Very good.”
Snapping the clam-shell style phone shut, the Dark Lady resumed her quick stride.
“Clovis has found your son. He’s waiting for you at the fairgrounds across the highway,” she said to Masaal, beside her, and he nodded. “Go meet up with him and bring the child to me.”
“Consider it done.”
“Oh, and Masaal,” she said as he turned away from her to find the nearest exit. He paused and looked back at her dark eyes. “Clovis is losing it. By the time you get to him, he’ll probably be completely gone. I can’t have him disrupting my plans, so once you’ve located the child, dispatch our friend. And be discreet.”
This time Masaal smiled outright, then nodded to her and hurried away.
As she watched him leave, Angelique wondered how long she’d be able to maintain her grip on her own sanity. This host body was strong and the energy she had managed to bring with her from the Realm sustained her even further, adding longevity to this stolen life cycle. But at some point, she’d lose her mind, the same way Clovis was. She could only hope to accomplish all she had to do before that happened.
In the distance, well beyond her ability to see, something howled. The cry came from no animal ordinarily found on this earth. She smiled to herself. The workings she had done in the theater had thinned and torn the Veil even further and now she sensed creatures crossing over from that reality to this one. Unearthly things which crawled on six legs and could rear up as tall as a man. Spindly shapes with tentacles instead of arms, which snaked out fast and grabbed at anything within reach. Beasts that fed on live human flesh, ripping and tearing, consuming every last morsel and leaving only pools of blood behind. Hellions, they were called, and they had begun to prowl Shadow Valley.
Angelique’s smile became a delicate laugh, like the tinkling of shattering icicles in a deep cave. With her laughter as her only company, she strode into the darkness.
Chapter 51
“Party Gone Wrong”
Bo Hollin pulled his beat up Toyota pickup into the trail side clearing at the campground. The truck’s headlights, a five-unit light rack across the roof and two-unit light bar below his front bumper, lit the campground up like mid-day. The four fellow campers greeted him boisterously as he shut the rig down and climbed out to the chorus of Rob Zombie’s “Foxy Foxy”. One of the young women was dancing to the music, the firelight casting her shapely shadow against the dark green of the woodland canopy.
Shawn Kemp called out a “Hello,” and made his drunken way around the roaring campfire.
Hollin was at the tailgate unloading another cooler of cold beer when his friend staggered over and propped himself up against the side of the old truck.
“Nev’r... never thought... you’d...” Kemp burped light beer breath into Hollin’s face. “Get back.”
Hollin rolled his eyes, fished a can of brew out of the cooler and handed it to Kemp.
“Oh! Thanks!” Kemp exclaimed, his eyes lighting up like a child about to blow out his birthday candles.
Hollin left his inebriated friend to try and figure out how to open the pop-top can and crossed to the area of the campground designated as the kitchen. There he deposited the cooler beside the camp table and took the time to toss fresh drinks to everyone else before he fished one out for himself. He closed the cooler, turned and sat on it like a bench; then he popped open the drink and took a long pull from it. It tasted a touch bitter, but felt cold and refreshing going down; he had no idea how parched he had felt.
His immediate craving met, Hollin stood and walked over to the campfire, noticing how dark it had grown since he had left for the “beer run”. The firelight reflected back off of the neon orange dome tent across from him, creating deep shadows beyond the immediate illumination. He sighed deeply and turned his attention to the babble of conversation. Before he could figure out the topic, he heard the thick brush in the deep darkness across from him rustle, then caught a blur of motion before grunting from the impact of a hellhound leaping the campfire and crushing him beneath its massive clawed paws.
Stunned into immovability, Kemp stood stone still, staring at the creature as it tore away his best friend’s flesh in large, bloody chunks. An acrid smelling wet patch formed on the front of his faded jeans as his bulging eyes took in the scene. A heartbeat later, he screamed as long, sinuous tentacles snaked out from the woods behind him, wrapped around his body and yanked him into the darkness so suddenly that the only sound the other campers could focus on was the crunching sound of hellions feasting nearby.
The clearing exploded with movement as the remaining campers scattered in an attempt to escape the unholy creatures that burst from the woods. It was all in vain and only made a game of the chase and the feasting more enjoyable.
Before the rock music faded out the campsite was painted red with blood.
Chapter 52
“The Festivities Begin”
From where he stood near the back of the central seating area of the arena, Kiah had a reasonable view of the crowd. He couldn’t see the grandstand behind him, but his heightened senses didn’t indicate any danger that may come from that direction. What they did bring to his attention was the presence of SoulChasers. Not yet in their immediate area, he could tell that they were within the fairgrounds and seemed to be making their way toward he and Levahn. Relief poured into him, and he suddenly felt guilty for wanting this mess to all be over
. He hadn’t talked to anyone about it, but he missed his wife and daughter in the short time he’d been away and felt anxious to see them again.
It was as he pondered the possible consequences of his actions that his senses detected something he hadn’t prepared for: another rogue. Stunned, he looked around frantically, unable to pinpoint the escaped soul’s precise location, but positive that it was close. That meant the SoulChasers he sensed, he now determined that there were at least two, could be here for someone besides Levahn, a possibility the Guardian hadn’t considered. Curious now, he sent his senses out farther, hunting for that sour aura that rogues gave off; an ability he hadn’t known he had until now. His legs about went out from under him when he stumbled upon not only a powerful resonance from only about a mile east of their location, but he was sure it was the source of the powerful energy pulse he’d experienced earlier.
“Are you alright?” Levahn asked beside him. “You look like you’re about to be sick.”
Kiah held a hand up in front of Levahn to forestall more chatter. He needed some time to collect his thoughts, to think, to come up with a plan.
Then the arena lights went out and on the main stage before them, searchlights began sweeping back and forth before the crowd. The audience about brought the grandstand down with their thunderous response.
“Ladies and Gentleman, boys and girls,” a slightly metallic rendition of a female voice echoed through the fairgrounds. “Welcome to your Pinebow County Centennial!”
A low, deep thrum began to vibrate through the audience as the arena plunged into darkness once again and to everyone’s delight, pinpoints of laser light began to flash and streak across the old mill silos before them. As the thrum increased in pitch and volume, the beams traced the perimeter of the buildings and in a burst of music and imagery the word “Welcome” appeared in bright red over the greenery logo for the Centennial; the main theme for 2001: A Space Odyssey thundered through the valley. In a flurry of motion, the lasers danced across the old architecture, building a virtual representation of the mill as it was when it was young, then systematically disassembled it as if made from puzzle pieces of light. The energized crowd roared in response.
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