"Talent?" Torquere was intrigued. What talent could this insignificant little creature possibly possess that would make her famous in Avaricia?
"People spoke of her skin; so cold it can turn anything to ice with a single touch."
"Anything?"
"Yes. And the same thing that turns things to ice has the power to destroy everything."
"Everything?"
The dog beast nodded. "Everything!"
"You must find her, Ferocimus."
"We were close to getting her. We were in the shadows. Ready to attack. But there came a giant scorpion out of nowhere. A giant mechanized anthropod."
Torquere spun around quickly and hissed. "Black Adam."
"A giant scorpion. Three storeys high. It was trying to capture the girl and The Giant. Do you know of this creature?"
The Great Torquere ignored Ferocimus’ question. He was too busy pacing the floor, banging his forehead with his fist.
"What does he want with the child?" he asked. "If Black Adam is after the child, then there’s more to her than meets the eye. I know this man; I know the games he plays..."
Torquere's mind was whirring. What did Black Adam want with this child? She had a talent for thermal manipulation. This could be useful. Very useful indeed. The more he thought about it, the more he realised how powerful Black Adam would become with such a weapon in his armoury.
Suddenly ablaze, Torquere spun around to face Ferocimus."I want that girl before Adam gets her. Do you understand?"
Ferocimus nodded. "And what would you like me to do with the girl, Mary?"
"My mother was called Mary. Did you know that Ferocimus?"
"No sir. You never mentioned this."
"You know, I used to be very talented. I could have been great in the circus. I could juggle. Did you know that?"
"I didn’t know that your greatness."
"I could juggle with five balls."
"I’m impressed your greatness."
"Put her in the pit. I shall see to it later."
"The pit? But sir, she might know where to find the girl you seek. If you put her in the pit she will be lost among many hundreds of thousands of others."
The Great Torquere threw his arms in the air rather feebly and sighed. "Oh I don’t know, I don’t know. What do you want me to say Ferocimus?" He looked at Ferocimus expectantly.
"With all due respect your greatness, I can’t make that decision for you."
The Great Torquere grabbed two dice from his table. Six or under and she goes in the pit. Seven or over and you can question her.
The dice were thrown.
"An eight. Take her."
Ferocimus nodded and stepped backwards, not for a moment taking his eyes off the Great Torquere.
"And Ferocimus?"
Ferocimus stopped.
"Fail me again and I will have you melted down. Comprendez?"
Ferocimus exited the room and closed the door behind him.
The Great Torquere picked the dice up and shook them in his hand. "Ten or under and that useless Dog Beast goes." He threw the dice. A five and a six.
"Close," he sneered. "Very close."
Outside the door, Ferocimus paused before slinking away into the darkness and Torquere knew this. However, he had bigger things on his mind. He returned to the bench in the centre of the room and picked up a huge golden key. Torquere held the key out in front of him as though unlocking an invisible door before him. A great hole opened up in front of him. A narrow stone stair case led down into the hole through which Torquere passed. He slowly descended the stair case as though descending into the vaults of an ancient cathedral. But instead, he emerged into a great hall. In the centre of the hall was a small iron contraption into which the terrified young woman was encased from the neck down. The only part of the young woman that remained visible was her head which, nevertheless, was covered by what appeared to be a cap or helmet. Tied under her chin with a thick leather strap, the headpiece bore a system of wires, coils and tubes which didn't seem to go anywhere in particular. However, the machine itself supported a vast maze of copper pipes and gauges that wound their way, as part of a complicated distillation process, to a series of giant drums at the rear. These astonishing containers had been fashioned from what looked like small ornate submarines and now contained the essence of the young woman's flawless smile, ready for The Great Torquere's use at a later date.
"Only a few more minutes," said a voice from the shadows.
Torquere spun around. "Ah, thank you Bufo. I trust the girl hasn’t been any trouble?
Bufo emerged from the shadows. He was a strange little person with a slightly hunched back. The Great Torquere had never seen his face. He could only surmise that, since he was covered from head to foot in a sack like outfit, he was grotesquely ugly. "No more than expected," he replied. "She has a lovely smile. I’d fight to keep hold of it too if that smile belonged to me."
Torquere laughed. "Oh Bufo, you are stupid. As if you’d ever have a smile as lovely."
A great hiss from behind the Avellotractus interrupted Torquere.
"Excuse me your greatness. Your smile is ready!" said Bufo, shuffling back into the shadows behind the machine.
A few moments later, Bufo emerged with a small wooden box and handed it to Torquere.
"It’s so small," exclaimed Torquere. "And light."
"A flight did you say?" shouted Bufo.
"It’s light," shouted Torquere shaking the box.
"Exactly as it should be," shouted Bufo holding out his hands protectively, ready to catch the box should it fall.
"The strength we took from that construction worker last week weighed so much more. And ... and the fury from that murderer weighed even more than that. Why, that box was as big as a man!"
The door to the Avellotractus opened with a great hiss and a clank of metal so loud that it made even Bufo jump.
The young woman fell out and lay in a heap on the floor in front of The Great Torquere. "You see, I told you it wouldn’t hurt now didn’t I." Torquere prodded the girl’s cheek with the tip of his shoe.
The young girl lay still on the floor, a single tear rolling down her cheek, pooling in the corner of her downcast mouth.
"I’ll walk you back to your lab," said Bufo.
"No, that won’t be necessary today Bufo. I didn’t come for this. I won’t be needing this for a long time now." The Great Torquere took a deep breath and frowned. "Bufo, I need you to gather me all of these and bring them to my lab".
He handed a piece of paper to Bufo. The paper was folded up into the tiniest square and when opened revealed a large sheet of paper with a list of personality traits. "I believe we have a fair amount of all of these," said Torquere.
Bufo glanced at the list. Listed were the most vile, nasty, horrible and revolting personality traits that Torquere had stolen over the years.
"This is a powerful concoction your greatness. I wouldn’t wish to meet this person on a dark night."
"Exactly," said Torquere. "That’s exactly what I was hoping you would say. It needs to be fast, it needs to be clever, it needs to be fearless, it needs to be ..."
Torquere thought for a moment. "It needs to be terrifying."
"Is it some kind of beast or demon you are planning to battle?" asked a perplexed Bufo.
"No, not a beast. A child. A small, insignificant, annoying little child -- who just happens to have something that I want."
Angry Desert
It was night and the dark sky totally without stars when Margie and The Giant felt it safe enough to come out of their hiding place and recommence their journey to the Darkest of All Places.
Several hours later they were finally able to relax and survey their new surroundings which were quite unlike Margie or The Giant had ever seen before. They found themselves in what appeared at first to be a burnt out forest. The ground was dark and stubbly; the air thick with ash and a thin haze of smoke. Around them were hundreds of tall thin trees rising up out of the ground like giant needles, their burnt out branches hung like broken limbs. The air was still. Quiet. The smoky haze seemed to muffle any sound. Like an invisibility cloak, this sound vacuum wrapped itself around them and made them feel safe.
As they rested momentarily behind a boulder The Giant pointed upwards.
"Look," he said. "No stars. No moon."
"What does that mean?"
"It means that we's getting closer to the Darkest of all Places. We prob'ly ain't gonna see no sun now until ..." The Giant looked troubled. He picked up a large stone and started polishing it with the palm of his hand.
"Until
what
?" asked Margie.
"Until it’s all over."
Margie didn’t ask what The Giant meant by this. She didn’t want to know. She still had so many things whizzing round her head. Now that she was no longer in the company of Grandma Doyle, the coldness that lurked in her back had begun to frighten her. It weighed her down like a cloak of locusts, writhing and churning under her skin.
"I'm dead," she finally said.
The Giant dropped the rock at his feet. It landed with a heavy thud. "Of course you are." He said this as though Margie should have known it all along.
Margie nodded sadly.
"You didn' know?" asked The Giant taken aback. "Where did you think you was?"
"I didn’t know Giant. I still don’t know. Everything seems so familiar yet so strange. It feels like a nightmare. Not at all like I thought it would feel."
"This is where folks come when they still got business to sort out."
"Does that include Auguste and Grandma Doyle?"
"Yup."
"Do you think I'm the Collector, Giant?" asked Margie, hugging her knees.
The Giant scrunched up his face. "I ain't got a clue. You don't look like no Collector to me. But then I ain't never seen one since I'm stuck here. No one been to collect my story."
Margie winced. "My back really hurts, Giant." Margie's back was covered by the blanket which Margie had thrown across her shoulders back in her caravan. It was almost entirely covered in a thin layer of ice.
"Does it feel cold?" asked The Giant.
"Yes," replied Margie. "and it feels like I'm carrying something really heavy on my back. I know it sounds odd, but sometimes it feels like there's something in there too. In my back. I can't explain it ... "
The Giant frowned with concern. "Spider Beast were right; that invisible thing on your back is the reason why folks is chasing us. The sooner we get moving the better."
Margie placed her head in her hands. "Why me, Giant? Why do I have this curse?"
"I dunno. Maybe there
is
something special about you," said The Giant sombrely. "All I know is what Spider Beast told us: we has to get to The Darkest of All Places before ..."
"Before it kills me?"
The Giant laughed. "I don't s'pose we'll find out til we get there."
Margie's voice trembled, and she looked up at The Giant with tears in her eyes. “Do you know anyone who ever came back from the Darkest of All Places?"
The Giant looked thoughtful for a moment then shook his head. "Nope."
Margie's face crumpled and the tears spilled over. "Oh Giant," she cried. "Why do I have this burden and no one else?"
The Giant shrugged his shoulders. "We all got a burden. That's why we're here. There ain't no one in Limbuss chooses to be in Limbuss 'cause they happy."
"Why does everyone I love leave me? Auguste. Grandma Doyle."
The Giant sat quietly for a moment. "You still have me," he whispered.
Margie didn't say anything and then she felt something she hadn’t felt before. At least she didn’t think she had felt it before, although it did feel remarkably familiar. She felt fury. It welled up from deep within her like a whirlwind and blasted out of her like the scream of a banshee.
Margie raised her face to the sky and let out a long, loud wail that rose slowly like an air raid siren before changing into an angry scream: "Take me home!" she shrieked. "Take! Me! Home!
NOW!
"
The Giant was terrified. Confused. What had he done? What had he said? And why here of all places, in the middle of nowhere with no protection for miles around? He had never ventured so far away from Avaricia and had heard only terrible things. He knew that the closer they moved towards The Darkest of All Places, the more dangerous their journey would become and the last thing he wanted was for Margie’s sudden outburst to draw attention to them. He had no idea if the scorpion was still out looking for them, let alone Torquere's Dog Beasts.
Without thinking he picked her up and clamped his hand over her mouth. "You gonna get us in trouble!" he whispered frantically in her ear. "You gotta be quiet. See? Shh." The Giant looked around him anxiously, his eyes bulging with fear.
Still consumed with this sudden, terrible rage, Margie bit The Giant's hand forcing him to drop her. She landed heavily and for a moment lay winded, unable to move or speak. The two of them remained silent and still while Margie tried to gather herself.
"I'm sorry," said The Giant softly. "I told you before. I ain't no good at no nothing. I can't even be a good friend to no one." He picked up a stone and threw it so far he couldn't even hear it land.
Still unable to move or speak, Margie tried to stand up. Then to The Giant's horror, the same stone that he had just thrown came whizzing back hitting Margie square on the side of the head. Knocked unconscious, she crumpled to the floor once again.
At the very same time, The Giant became aware of a low moaning sound followed by some rustling on the floor. Through the haze of pale grey smoke The Giant thought he saw something that sent a surge of adrenalin through him like a punch to the stomach. It looked like a mound or a bulge in the ground that shifted sharply from the left to the right before disappearing only to reappear seconds later elsewhere. What's more, it quickly became clear that it was not just one bulge, but two, three, four, six.
Suddenly a creature, the size of a small pig, burst out of the ground near The Giant’s feet and snapped at his ankles before disappearing into the ground again with an unearthly scream. Instinctively The Giant jumped onto the boulder, leaving Margie lying face down in the ground.
The creatures were unlike anything he had ever seen before. At first he thought he was looking at some kind of giant mole rat, but his eyes grew quite large and round when he realised that this rodent did, in fact, have the face and hands of a human. Its swollen body resembled that of a drowned man rearing up out of the sea, whilst it's scant hair floated weightlessly as though suspended in water. Suddenly something clicked in The Giant's brain. He'd seen this creature before. Several times. They'd been sent to him, wrapped in a sack, to cut up and dispose of like all the other creatures that came his way. Of course, he had no idea what these particular creatures were called. One harmless, dead creature was much the same as another dead creature as far as he was concerned.
And, of course, the dead, unblinking eyes of the creatures in his Butchery bore no resemblance to the two creatures which had just appeared out of the ground beside Margie. For a split second The Giant felt sorry for them. Their large, round eyes had an almost pleading, sorrowful quality about them. So much so that he felt confident enough to step down from the rock and slowly inch his way towards Margie. But The Giant quickly discovered there was nothing even remotely sorrowful about the two creatures as they sank their long, sharp, yellow incisors into Margie's leg before disappearing into the ground with a ghostly scream.
Margie sat up sharply.
At first she eyed The Giant suspiciously, totally unaware of their predicament, until she noticed the look of horror on his face. Something to the side of her caught her eye and she noticed several mounds moving on the ground around her. She leapt to her feet but still weak from her injuries, was unable to reach The Giant on the rock before she was surrounded by the creatures. Excited to madness they reared up screaming and snapping at her with the ferocity of rabid piranhas; their razor edged teeth grazing the flesh on her legs as she hopped and kicked them frantically.
Stricken with fear, panic and horror, Margie screamed. The Giant drew a deep breath and jumped from the rock kicking and stamping on the creatures as they appeared out of the ground.
"They’re biting me," yelled Margie, hopping and kicking wildly in a vain attempt to dodge the creatures’ vicious teeth. "What
are
they?"
The Giant was unable to answer, because all of a sudden something, an arm maybe, shot out and grabbed his ankle. With a yank he came crashing down to the ground. The Giant screamed out in both pain and fear while several of the creatures snapped at his head, arms, body and legs. There was nowhere that wasn’t game for the creatures and even though The Giant twisted his body fiercely back and forth in an attempt to tear himself away from the pack, the miserable creatures continued to sink their jaws into The Giant’s flesh, wailing and screaming frenziedly.
Margie watched on in horror as the creatures attempted to drag the screaming Giant away, their wide round eyes glistening and gloating and shifting from side to side. Then something very strange happened. The creatures stopped. Together they looked up and sniffed the air as though catching wind of something. And then, one by one, they disappeared beneath the sand leaving no evidence whatsoever of them ever having been there.
Then came the silence. The air seemed suddenly thick and treacle-like as though Margie was thinking, seeing and hearing from inside a bubble of jelly. She could just about see The Giant lying on the floor, blood oozing out of his many wounds. Margie took a deep breath in and lurched towards The Giant when she was startled by a sudden movement on the boulder.
Through the mist which permanently shrouded them, she could make out a giant black bird with a wrinkled head and a large black beak which seemed far too long and heavy for its size. The bird wore a coat of shiny black feathers and a large white fur ruff around its neck. Never had Margie seen such a strange and ugly bird. The bird – a vulture – was regarding Margie and The Giant very carefully. "Go away," cried Margie. Had they not endured enough? Margie clapped her hands in an attempt to frighten the creature away. Instead the vulture raised its wings and let out a long and painful scream.
Margie placed her hands on her ears and squashed them into her skull as hard as she could. After what felt like the longest time, the screaming ceased and Margie heard a voice.
"Giant? Giant?" she cried out, "is that you?"
But the voice didn’t belong to The Giant. His motionless body, she quickly discovered, lay bleeding on the ground.
As she knelt down beside her friend, she heard the voice again from somewhere in the mist surrounding her.
"Shush," it said, seemingly to the vulture. "What's gotten into you; be quiet or you'll get us into trouble. Twas just a little flittermouse, nort for you to be getting scared about."
The vulture bowed and hung his head restfully under his right wing.
Moments later a man appeared from behind the boulder. He looked weary and out of breath, as though he had been running. He jumped with fright when he saw Margie kneeling beside The Giant.
"Avast! Who's there?" he demanded.
"We need help" cried Margie. "My friend is hurt."
The young man remained motionless. He was a tall, slender young man in his early twenties with a mass of dark wavy hair. He wore a leather sailor's jacket and breeches, both of which were adorned with all manner of brass weapons, tools, and dialled instruments. This seemed typical of all men in Limbuss, regardless of the era from which they originated. The young man who stood before Margie wore a goggled eye patch and a tricorn hat and on his hands he wore leather gloves that were adorned with all manner of knives, blades, nails and barbed wire.
"Stand up," shouted the man, his arms outstretched; his knees slightly bent.
Margie stood up nervously eyeing the ground around her. "My friend needs help," she cried with increased urgency. "We were attacked by some creatures that came from the under the ground."
Suddenly catching sight of The Giant, the young man took several steps back and gasped. "Flibberty skriddicks! He's ginormous!"
Margie studied the young man impatiently and decided that the ground beneath posed more of a threat than this gutless invertebrate. Turning her back, Margie grabbed The Giant's lifeless hands and attempted to drag him to safety herself. As she did so, the ground rippled and trembled beneath her feet.