The Last Summoning---Andrew and the Quest of Orion's Belt (Book Four) (51 page)

A loose stone fell. He jumped and waited.
Only silence greeted him.

“IT, ” he cried, bounding onto the next step.
“Show yourself.” He waited for an answer, but there was only
silence. Then, creeping out of a crack in the step above him, the
gleaming, green beetle appeared.

“Ah hah!” Gogindy exclaimed leaping after the
beetle. He caught it and grasped it between his fingers. “I’ve
caught you at last. You shiny weevil.” He peered into his palms and
gazed at the green bug, fantasizing just how it would taste when he
placed it between his teeth and crunched down. “You look very
pretty,” Gogindy said, making his way up the steps, without any
sense of where he was going except up. “Very scrum-chruptious.” He
paused, holding it like it was a savory treat. “You caused me a lot
of trouble. So I hope your flavor lasts a long time. For I am
starving. I hope you taste as beautiful as you look.” Gogindy was
about to crunch down on the bug, but he stopped. He looked at the
empty, gaping walls of the tower, where huge sections of the walls
had all but crumbled away, and only stairs and the inside part of
the structure stood secure.

“Oh my,” he murmured, gazing below him at the
mist and clouds that hugged the tower, making him feel even more
like he was living among the clouds. “Look here, bug. Just look at
it. We’re clear up in the sky. My, my. We are up really high. So
very high. It makes me feel sick. Makes my stomach churn. Oh, and
feel that wind. Oh, better not stand too close to the edge. Now
I’ve lost my appetite. Lucky for you. Guess I’ll have to save you
for later.” He stroked the bug with his forefinger and then placed
it in his small pack. “Yes, I’ll save you for later.”

Shadelock

Writings from Rhapsody’s Scrolls

“When you see darkness coming, I suggest you look to
the light.”

Andrew ran down an open hallway, feeling the cool
night air coming through the arched windows.

The Fallen’s castle was cold. Frost and snow
had gathered on the rim of the arched windows. Far off, Andrew
could hear trumpets, alarmed voices and quick, clattering
footsteps. He glanced behind him and shivered, drawing his dirty
cape over his head. He slowed, walking with careful, calculated
steps, trying not to look like he was in the hurry he was. He
turned down an adjoining hallway, one that was closed off to the
outside world. Here the floors sparkled and glimmered. The many
glass lanterns and torches that lit up the hallway sparked and
sputtered as he passed by them, reaching out with fiery hands as if
trying to stop him. He moved away from their grasping fingers and
stepped boldly ahead. He walked through the halls, peering around
corridors and into rooms, seeing very little life. The palace
seemed so uninhabited that it was inhabited. But not inhabited with
normal life, like one might suspect. For normalcy can only thrive
in light. Here there was light. But it wasn’t the kind of light
like you could feel on your face from the warm sunshine. The kind
of yellow, kiddy warmth that made spring come, and the world glow
with youth, rebirth and happiness. No, it was a cold light. A light
so grand it laughed at you. Its light was a greedy, selfish light
that burned inward, giving no warmth to anyone. No star, moon or
sun could give this feeling, for they all gave true light freely,
without asking for anything in return.

This light however was much different.
Instead of giving you a feeling of happiness, there was a cold
dread. Instead of rebirth, a corpselike feeling pervaded the air.
Oh, the light was grand. But that was all it was. It reflected on
itself, lighting up very little, yet it looked very busy at
whatever it was doing. It was cold as death, and warm as hell.
Which made for a very uncomfortable feeling.

Andrew came to a large iron door that loomed
over him like a tombstone, waiting for his name to be chiseled into
its wood. He slowly opened it with the tip of his sword. The door
creaked open with a lurching screech. He peered in and looked
around the room. The room was lit with several torches, yet it was
still dark as if the room was absorbing the light from the torches
faster than they could burn. Somewhere within the room Andrew heard
a hushed whisper, and low shuffling. Andrew quickly stepped away
from the door as several shadows whipped through and swirled down
the hallway, twirling around the torches, causing them to sputter
and spark.

Andrew moved away from the room, down a
different hallway, walking as soundlessly as he could. Everything
about the castle put Andrew on edge. Every room throbbed with the
heartbeat of the master who built it. Darkness had been woven into
every thread, every fabric, pressed between every brick, slathered
on every tile. Each wall, each window, each curtain, pillow, echo,
shadow; each squeak, sound, and crack was bathed in The Fallen’s
consuming dark sheen. This place was a home to things that liked to
lurk, peep, and creep.

Even though Andrew could not see everything
that lurked in the Shadelock’s walls, he could feel, hear, and
sense the presence of many beings watching him. In the Shadelock’s
walls there were many things that were attracted to darkness and
light, as well. But this light did not create goodness. It created
servants, awe-struck slaves, pawns to power, leaches, sponges, and
worshippers of glitter.

Andrew shivered, and shrunk away from a dark
hallway where all the torches had gone out, and heavy smoke stilted
the air. Andrew coughed, and leaned against the wall. The air in
this castle was different. It was heavy, and thick like molasses.
The darkness that lingered over this place was a hungry, devouring
darkness. If Andrew lingered at any one place for too long, the
darkness of the castle felt like it would consume him, seep into
his mind, drift into his nose. It wore on him like a grinding
stone. Andrew was sure that if he spent very long in such a place
it would disfigure him just like those Withers. He was sure that if
he let the darkness in, it would suffocate him and turn him wholly
inside out, so as to never recognize himself again.

He moved away from the smoke and walked
through a large open hallway lined with thousands of torches that
lit up the hallway so brilliantly that it caused the glittering
black floor to seem like it was lit up in beautiful diamonds. The
castle was indeed grand. But the grandness inspired only awe and
fear. Nothing else.

Behind Andrew, a loud clanking echoed through
the hallway as a door opened and shut. Andrew heard heavy
footfalls, and a deep-throated laugh that reverberated through the
passageway, causing the congested row of torches to quiver.

Andrew stopped, as the sounds grew louder. He
quickly darted to an adjoining hallway that was barely lit. He
pressed his back against the wall as the footfalls, and the deep
voice of the speaker grew louder.

Andrew’s heartbeat quickened. A terrible
empty, vacant feeling flooded over him. His instincts told him to
run, that whatever was treading up the hallway was his supreme
opposite. Something so dark that it caused galaxies to be thrown
off balance.

The heavy footfalls continued. He heard
voices that caused the torches in the preceding hallway to
waver.

“They will have the boy soon,” a soothing
voice consoled.

“Of course they will, you purposeless void!”
a thick, dark voice boomed. “And when they do, I want him brought
to me. Do you understand!”

“Yes, my master,” the void replied. “I
do.”

“Good. Now, come. I have work for you to
do.”

As the speakers moved through the hallway,
Andrew caught a glimpse of their glowing frames as they faded into
the darkness. As the strangers passed by, each row of torches
sputtered and went out, one by one, leaving Andrew in the cover of
utter blackness.

The hall had become so inky black that it
reeked of death. Andrew could feel shadows creep close to him,
snuggling up next to his body like cold, scaly fish. In this
darkness he felt the presence of every dark evil thing imaginable
creep out from hiding. He drew his sword, gaining comfort from its
small light as he crept through the hallway after the dark
strangers. Something brushed past his cape and caused a gust of
cold air to stir through his hair. He gazed around him in alarm,
but saw only blackness. The light from the sword penetrated the
darkness around him, nothing more. It was as if the darkness was a
living thing that had a body, a brain, a heartbeat, eyes, and thick
skin that could not be easily infiltrated. He could barely even see
his feet through the blackness.

“Such a dark place,” he murmured, suddenly
being yanked backwards as something tugged on the hem of his cape.
He twirled around just in time to see a thin, shadowy hand slink
back into the thick skin of darkness that surrounded him.

Hollow laughs, distant moaning, and the
pattering of unseen feet could be heard. His mind could feel the
darkness and the shadows of the hallway tug at him in all
directions, trying to seep into his heart.

“Step out into the darkness,” Andrew
breathed, picturing the faces of his friends, their bright smiles,
their laughter. That thought alone helped him to shatter the thick
darkness ahead of him so he could keep moving. He passed slowly
through this veil of darkness, through another a maze of hallways.
Here, the darkness was lifted considerably by rows and rows of
lanterns and torches. Here, all the hallways were bright---except
for one.

This was the path Andrew knew he must follow.
The unlit one. He paused before entering it. He looked from the
brilliantly lit hallways, to the dark one. Next to these hallways,
this dark forsaken corridor looked even darker. Andrew’s grip
tightened on his sword. His heart beat faster. He could feel this
the darkness of the hallway ooze out into the other brighter
hallways, reaching for him, pulling him towards it.

He slowly stepped into the inky hallway, and
let it tug him along, walking the plank to sure destruction. From
here he did not know what would follow. But he stepped bravely
ahead.

Flowers, trees, animals, people, all try to
face the sun, Andrew thought. I must walk through dark hallways,
valleys, mountains. Even when I gaze up into the sky I must look at
the black spaces between the stars, and measure how much of it
there is, and how much I am willing to give of myself in order to
keep those black spaces from getting bigger. I, Andrew, must hunt
the darkness, as it hunts me. I must stalk it as it stalks me.
Creep through it, as it creeps after me. Shun it, but don’t run
from it. I can walk through the land of shadow because I am filled
with light. I can face any darkness because in me lies the power to
crack the powerful grip that it has upon the lost.

Thus consoling himself, he took courage and
continued on through a dark stairwell. The darkness oozing around
him like black, wet feathers. He made his way up a great flight of
steps until he reached another hallway that gradually got lighter
and lighter as he went up the steps. Confused, he paused at the
stop of the stairs and blinked, dazed by the brightness. Perhaps,
he thought, he had taken a wrong turn.

He was about to turn back when he spied a
room down the hallway that did not glitter with an aura of light.
Stepping very softly, he made his way to the room and peered in,
preparing himself for…what? He could not guess. The room was very
large, with tall walls and high ceilings. It was utterly empty and
forsaken, except for a small window. Andrew walked over to the
window, noting that the light from the moon outside dared not shine
into the room at all.

What kind of place is this? Andrew thought,
that the moon and stars dare not to cast their light through
it.

“A very dark one,” a cutworm of a voice
whispered.

Andrew felt a cold hand clamp down on his
shoulder. A tremor of chills coursed through him. He turned his
head, seeing the form of an inky hand on his shoulder. Andrew pried
the cold hand away from his body. He stepped back and raised his
blade. But he saw nothing, only a dark, flat shadow slink
stealthily against the walls, disappearing through a dark opening
at the end of the room.

Andrew slowly followed it through the
opening, out into a brilliantly-lit corridor. Andrew stopped. He
gazed around him, dazzled by so much light. In this part of the
castle, the floors, ceilings and walls were a beautiful white,
glassy color that reflected the torchlight, magnifying the light
like a glimmering lake of mirrors. Here all shadows had vanished.
Here, it was as if he had stepped from the darkest pit into the
realm of heaven. The contrast was so great that even his fear was
dazzled into submission. Light was everywhere. How could one be
afraid in such a beautiful place?

Drawn by the light, Andrew followed it to a
closed door that bulged with the brilliance behind it. The light
shining beneath it shot through the cracks, reaching out to him,
pulling him towards it.

He stood before this door staring at it with
shimmering eyes. He was overcome with a great desire to open it, to
see what lay behind it. His mind was hazy from the alluring light
that beguiled his senses. The more light he saw, the more he
wanted. This light made him greedy for more, made him hunger for
all the brilliance.

“Open the door,” a shining voice called to
him.

Andrew looked around him, unsure where the
voice had come from. For in its subtlety, Andrew thought it could
very well be the voice inside his own head.

“Come,” the voice echoed, alluring, kind,
irresistible. “Come inside, and be made whole by the light I
give.”

The voice was powerful. One that Andrew
wanted to obey, wanted to please.

Without hesitating, Andrew grabbed the glass
door handle, and swung the door wide.