The Last Summoning---Andrew and the Quest of Orion's Belt (Book Four) (47 page)

Andrew held his breath and dipped his head
beneath the sticky, greasy goo. The oil licked up around his chin
like a cold tongue of some repulsive animal, penetrating his skin,
and filling his ears. He could taste the bitter, sickening taste of
oil leak into his mouth. As Andrew ducked under, several soldiers
peered over the edge and scanned the canal.

“I saw him jump in,” someone shouted.
“Where’d he go?”

“Hmm, probably hiding down there somewhere,”
another replied. “Fine. Then let’s roast him!” He laughed, tossing
a flaming torch into the channel of oil just as Andrew
resurfaced.

As the torch hit the oil, an explosion of
flames burst from the canal. The flames coursed towards Andrew in a
ribbon of fire, crackling and hissing, sending a wave of heat
rolling towards him.

Heat, smoke, burning oil and the roaring of
fire drowned out all senses except for fear. The tongue of fire ran
towards Andrew as if it was hungry to consume him. Andrew tried to
climb back up the canal, but the edges were too oily and slick. He
could feel the heat from the flames on his back threatening to
consume him. He looked around in panic. This was it. He could not
outrun the flames. The fire rushed up to engulf him, greedy to
consume their long awaited prey.

He raised his sword, ready to meet the fire.
If he was to die, he would meet it head on, and with his weapon
raised. Just as the flames licked around him, he stabbed his sword
down into the canal. The flames stopped at the foot of his sword
and recoiled like a mighty wave suddenly dammed off. The ripple
caused from the sword, moved through the lake of oil and coal,
dousing out the entire canal of flames in quick succession, as if
he’d stabbed a living being in the heart. The smell of burned oil
and smoke hovered around him hiding him in a gray cloak. Andrew’s
heart beat fast and hard against his chest. He could hardly believe
that he was still alive. How was it that his sword still held some
power? That was enough to give him hope.

He could hear the cries of confused soldiers
shouting through the haze. Somewhere in the distance mournful
bugles called as if warning him of danger to come. In a moment, the
smoke would be gone and the soldiers would be able to see him.

Andrew quickly scanned the canal, and found a
large crack with which he used to pull himself up and out of the
canal. Once out, he quickly pressed himself against the ground, and
rolled into a field of starflowers that hugged the edges of the
canal. He lay in the midst of the starflowers, breathing heavily,
as oil drained off his clothes and hair. His body reeked with the
smell of it. His whole body was contaminated with grime. He closed
his eyes, resting his head on the cold earth. Gradually, the sounds
of soldiers died out, and all grew uncommonly quiet.

He opened his eyes, and stared at the star
flowers that hid him, feeling grateful for their cover. Even in the
cold they grew, and shone, their beauty doubled by their dreary
surroundings.

He smiled, tracing one of the delicate
flowers with his oil-covered fingers. It was so beautiful, so
bright, so simple. It reminded him of Ivory the day he’d met her.
He closed his eyes again, and breathed slowly, feeling a jab of
pain and guilt. He wondered what Freddie and Ivory were enduring on
his account. Was it their strength he felt in the sword? He
clenched his jaw, and crawled further into the field, feeling more
like shadow than a man covered in oil and black earth.

Andrew paused, glancing behind him. He
scowled upon seeing the huge trail of dead starflowers left in his
wake. His cover was not so hidden as he had first supposed.

“There he is!” a voice barked from somewhere
to his right. “Get him! Grab him!”

Andrew quickly stood and began running, not
caring where he was going. The night, though dark, was filled with
a lovely glow from the field of flowers. All around the field were
strange iridescent, glittering lights that seemed to come from
nowhere and everywhere. Behind him Andrew could see a host of tall,
thin Codes running after him, moving gracefully, making disturbing
yips and moaning sounds as they ran.

Andrew burst from the field of starflowers
and ran down the road through the snow, towards a large pile of
rocks and rubble. Just as he reached the pile of rocks, a hand
caught hold of his cape and yanked him back.

“You coward!” The Code said, letting go of
Andrew and stepping back. The creature was dressed in a cape that
was barbed with pieces of sharp metal stitching it together like
uncomfortable thread. The Code’s shimmering eyes stared at Andrew
in heated wrath, giving off steam as if its eyes had a breath of
its own. “I should kill you where you stand.”

Andrew’s hand went to his sword, but he
hesitated. There was something strange about this Code. Behind the
creature were dozens of other Codes. They stood bunched together,
as if watching with dread and great interest.

“You must have several shadows lodged in your
skull!” The Code seethed, cuffing Andrew with a hard fist. “You
were ordered to return to Shadelock! Why did you not come as you
were ordered?”

Andrew made no answer. He was confused by the
Code’s strange behavior.

“Well,” the Code barked, “answer me!”

Andrew stood and gawked. The Code thought he
was one of them. Perhaps he did, he mused, covered in a thick layer
of oil, thin and tall, similar in form to them. Perhaps his eyes
were glowing as well. He could not tell.

“Not going to answer me are you?” The
creature bellowed, cuffing Andrew again.

Andrew cowered back, but said nothing.

“Not going to speak? Well, I wouldn’t either.
Thought ya had the boy, now did you? Wanted to run away before
having to pay the price for being a good for nothing, fool. It was
you that told us that it was the boy you found. But he wasn’t, now
was he? Well, I couldn’t just let you run off leaving the rest of
us Codes to die for your stupid mistake!”

“No!” The other Codes gathering in around him
murmured in agreement, stirring with suppressed anger and
agitation.

“No!” The Code thundered. “You can’t escape
from what’s coming to you. You’re going to pay the price.” The
creature sniffed and spat a black wad of oily spit into Andrew’s
face, then shoved him forward. “Move, you worthless being. I should
kill you myself. I can’t believe you ran off like that, leaving us
to die for your mistake. Can’t let you get away with it.” Its voice
was filled with venom. “Get on with you!” It grabbed Andrew and
clamped its cold, twisted hands on Andrew’s shoulder. “Move, you
traitor!”

The procession of Codes moved through the
snow, dragging Andrew along with them, as they moaned in disjointed
words and mumbles that Andrew could not make out. When they spoke
among themselves their words sounded like half words and numbers
mixed with static.

They slowly made their way along the main
roads where hoards of soldiers marched passed him, unaware of
Andrew’s true identity. On either side of the road were fields of
starflowers, lined with canals that were burning like ominous
heralds for something that could consume much more than they
could.

The Codes led Andrew nearer to The Fallen’s
castle where it loomed brighter and brighter, like a star affixed
on the earth. The closer they came to the castle, the warmer it
became. Heat and fire spewed up from the chasm surrounding the
castle, yet the Codes went forward undaunted as if the heat gave
them pleasure. The bridge was black, and covered in an oily liquid
that reminded Andrew of The Shade's trees.

The bridge was made of a wood that would
never burn up, but gave off blue flames that were both hot and
cold. These strange flames licked up through the cracks in the wood
causing Andrew to trip and stumble several times.

The air over the bridge was filled with a
thick, heavy smoke that mixed with shadows and light. Andrew could
barely see his way ahead.

The heat coming up from the sides of the
bridge was heavy, and unbearable. Sweat poured down Andrew’s face,
and fell onto the bridge, freezing as it hit the blue flames
tickling up through the cracks in the wood. Smoke billowed from the
chasm in angry gusts, filling the air with stifling fumes. The oil
on Andrew hair and skin sizzled, making him feel as if he was being
cooked in his own oil. Dazzling sparks sifted through the air,
floating through the smoke, like stars in their own orbit.

A loud crackling roar that drowned out any
other sound filled the air, as the fires below the bridge licked
around them as if daring them to come close to the edge, reaching
out with fiery fingers, threatening to pull in any who dared get
too close to the edge.

Andrew glanced behind him at the slaves that
were fueling the fire. His eyes met that of a slave who was tossing
fuel into the fire along with several hundred other slaves. The
man’s face was greasy and black. His back was bent, his eyes looked
dead and almost blind, as if he saw nothing, not even the blazing
inferno he was fueling. His gaze was so disturbing and frightening,
it made Andrew stop.

In all the time he had freed slaves, he had
never seen such slaves as these. It was as if they had lost the
light in their souls, and all that was left was an empty hollow
hole.

The slaves moved, lifted, and did all their
tasks, like strange bug-like organisms, instead of individuals with
hearts, brains, souls. The slaves stood dangerously close to the
edge of the chasm as soldiers whipped their backs. The heat
billowing up from the fire burnt their hair and faces as they
tossed fuel into it. The sight was so awful Andrew turned away in
shame.

A loud explosion went off underneath the
bridge, beneath the chasm, causing flames and sparks to belt up.
Andrew thought he saw thousands of grasping hands in the flames,
hands that grabbed and reached out for him like they wanted to take
hold of him and drag him down into the lake of fire. A flaming
fingery hand reached out and tugged at Andrew’s cloak, but a Code
caught Andrew, and yanked him back. “Can’t get off that easy,” the
being breathed, shoving him forward.

On the other side of the bridge, a strange
sensation enveloped Andrew. He felt as though he had been walking
over the a bridge into another realm, a realm that had no sun, a
realm that was full of shade and lifelessness, a realm that was
diluted, filthy and cold, and filled with a heat that could burn
you, and freeze you at the same time, but never make you completely
warm or completely frozen.

It was a realm that did not know good from
evil, dark from light. A realm that was mixed with every bad thing,
where nothing was ever defined, because there wasn’t light enough
to define anything. Here, half truths, traitors, shadows, and every
dark thing existed. This place was home to the spiders of thought,
and the lurking hand of deception, ready to clamp down on you and
crush you if you weren’t watching. It was terrifying. The ground
they walked through was black and oily and glowed a strange blue
color that was saturated in the shadow of the castle that loomed
over them.

They stopped before a magnificent gate made
of crystal, clear as glass and strong as any element on earth. The
gate was tall and wide, so that many soldiers could fit through it
at once.

As the gate was slowly opened, a gust of
chilly wind hit them in the face, pushing away the smoke and smog,
revealing a dreary courtyard, lit by many eerie-looking fires and
torches. They pushed Andrew through the gate and into a courtyard
shaped like a crescent moon, with thousands of blue torches lining
it, like a cathedral at someone’s death.

Mounds of snow, stained in splotches of oil,
littered the ground. All the Codes were ordered to kneel. Andrew
was thrust to his knees along with them.

High on a wooden platform, near the castle
walls, a lone figure stood staring at the Codes in disgust. The
figure was tall, and luminous.

Andrew could not make out any of his
features, except that he was large and gleamed brightly, casting
them all in strange distorted light. The figure wore a shimmering
cape that glittered like silver. It fluttered in the breeze like a
ripped flag, emanating such light that all who stood under the
being were cast in a startling light mixed with shadow that was
both confusing, and dazzling. “Have you brought the Code?” The
figure’s powerful voice boomed, stirring the rivulets of light over
them with each word.

“Yes!” screeched the Code holding Andrew.
“Yes, we have!”

Andrew was thrust forward, and the rest of
the Codes stepped back, trembling in fear.

The figure smacked his fists together causing
the ground to tremble and shake. “You Codes have disappointed me,”
the figure’s voice purred, low, and penetrating but soft. It caused
a blanket of dark fog and fear to cover them. “You had the boy at
your fingertips yet you let him go, and brought an imposter to me?
You are worthless, all of you. I should punish all of you. Not just
this broken, malfunction Code. You’re all as worthless as he!”

“No!” the Codes howled, pointing to Andrew.
“It is he. He is to blame. Punish him.”

The figure let out an angry cry that shook
the ground and filled the air with frost. “Why just kill him, when
you all are just as guilty? I don’t know why I ever brought you
into existence.” He turned to a man standing next to him.
“Graydim,” have your men kill them all. Let none live. These Codes
have exceeded their use. These Codes have long expired. They are
outdated and are of no importance to me. I shall make new Codes to
replace these faulty ones. Codes that will not so easily crack as
these have.”

A cry of dismay fell over the Codes as
soldiers swooped in from every direction and started killing them.
Shrieks filled the night air as the butchering began.