The Spook 9 - Slither's tale (18 page)

Read The Spook 9 - Slither's tale Online

Authors: Delaney Joseph

Tags: #Paranormal

I WAS A
mage who had studied the occult for many years.

However, I had no experience at all of entities that could function in bodies that were essentially dead. In that moment I realized how big a place the world was and how much I had yet to learn. We Kobalos have a history of fighting humans, but we believe them to be far more numerous than us. It is perhaps fortunate that they are divided into many conflicting kingdoms, but we have little knowledge of any who use magic in those more distant places. Thus I knew nothing of human witches and their powers. How, I wondered, could I kill something that was already dead?

I drew a dagger with my free hand and plunged it into the
witch’s
throat. It had no effect, and again her claws lunged towards my face. I spun away, still gripped by the witch, our bodies stretched taut.

Then I brought logic to bear upon the situation. I whirled the dagger across in a fast arc. The blade cut straight through the witch’s wrist, severing it from her body. She fell backwards into the slime, leaving her left hand behind, still gripping my wrist. But it began to twitch and slowly relax its hold, and it was the work of a moment to pull it off and cast it aside. By the time the dead witch had regained her feet, the sabre was back in my left hand and I was ready.

I had no choice but to cut her into pieces. How else could I terminate her attack?

Soon she had no arms or legs and could not even crawl. There was no blood – just a trickle of vile black fluid. To be sure, I sliced off her head, and held it up by the hair. Her eyes gazed back at me, full of fury, and her lips twitched as if she would speak. In disgust, I flung her head as far away as possible. Then I picked up the leather sack, retrieved my sabre, wiping it clean on the torso of the dismembered witch, and went back towards the ladder with Hom scampering at my heels.

Soon I was safely back in my quarters. First I checked on the three sisters. They were sleeping with their arms around each other.

Next I examined the sack and weighed it carefully in my hands. It was certainly extremely large. I remembered the
warning
given by the witch with pointed teeth, but I was curious to see such a head – that of the most powerful of their gods. Also, despite the report given to me by Hom, the head did not stink. So I undid the string and reached inside.

I felt something sharp; something made of bone – two coiled objects. I peered into the sack. They were horns. This was a horned god. One of our own horned gods was called Unktus, but he was a relatively minor deity worshipped only by the lowest menials of the city. I lifted the head out of the sack, put it on the chair opposite me and studied it carefully.

No wonder they had chosen it to be the chief of their gods. It was much more impressive than depictions of Unktus in the grottoes of worship. There was no sign of putrefaction, and the horns were not unlike those of a ram. Once it had surely been lordly and handsome despite its close approximation to the human form. However, it had been cruelly mutilated. One eye was missing and the other stitched shut. The mouth was stuffed with brambles and nettles.

My curiosity satisfied, I was about to return it to the sack when the stitched lids over the remaining eye twitched. Immediately I heard a deep groan. The sound did not emanate from the head, but from the
floor
beneath the chair. That was odd – could it be that the head was still conscious? And perhaps the essence of the god was not just confined to its head? In some entities consciousness can be diffuse and not merely trapped within the flesh.

The mouth was being forced open by the nettles and brambles, so I began to tug them out, dropping them onto the floor beneath the chair. I then saw further evidence of violence: the teeth had been smashed; only yellow stumps remained. As I tugged out the last of the bramble twigs, there was another groan. This time it came from the mouth, not the floor.

The jaw began to move and the lips to tremble. At first all that came out was a sigh and a croak, but then the head spoke clearly and eloquently.

‘I forgive you for what you did to my servants. It was understandable as they were interlopers in your city. But do as I say now and I will reward you beyond your wildest dreams. Disobey me and I will inflict upon you an eternity of pain!’

I took a deep breath to calm myself and took stock of the situation before replying. Perhaps the witch had been correct and I had been foolish to open the sack and subject myself to unnecessary risk. She was certainly right about my curiosity, though. It was part of what I was. Sometimes danger had to be faced in order to gain knowledge. I knew I must be bold and face down this maimed god.

‘You are in no position to reward anyone,’ I told the head. ‘I have been informed that you were once a powerful god but are now helpless. It must be difficult for one so high and mighty to have been brought so low.’

Then, before the mutilated god could bother me further with its threats, I thrust the nettles and brambles back into the mouth and returned the head to the sack.

Once again I visited District Yaksa Central, Level Thirteen, cell forty-two.

I made myself very small and slithered under the dungeon door. I looked up and met the malevolent gaze of the human witch, then quickly grew until we were looking at each other eye to eye.

‘Did you retrieve my property?’ she asked coldly.

‘I have the leather sack with the severed head of your god,’ I told her. ‘It is back in my quarters. Additionally, I know the location of your blades and the star-stone, but you’ll have to manage without them. They are in the most secure place in the city. But these’ – I placed two of my own blades on the floor before her – ‘may serve you just as well.’

‘Do we have a trade?’ she asked.

‘Yes, it is a trade. You have my word.’

Thus the bargain was struck and I was pleased. Fighting alongside the witch, I would have a real chance against the Haggenbrood. But there were obstacles yet to be overcome. Could she really complete her escape and make her way safely to my quarters?

‘Well, mage, I thank you for the loan of the blades, and you have the head – that’s the most important thing. To begin with, all you have to do is ease the tightness of the chain about my neck.’

‘I can do more than that.’ And I released her from the chain so that now she was held only by the four silver pins.

She smiled, showing her pointed teeth. ‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘The only further thing that I require is a guide to take me to my other possessions. Send me the busybody rat.’

‘Put such thoughts from your mind!’ I said angrily. ‘They are
in
the Plunder Room of the Triumvirate. Any attempt to penetrate that stronghold will result in your certain death.’

‘The “Triumvirate” – that sounds very grand. What is it?’

‘It is the ruling body of Valkarky, composed of the three most powerful High Mages in the city.’

‘No doubt replacements will be found if anything untoward were to happen to them. I would hate to see such a fine city without proper governance,’ she said, her voice filled with sarcasm. ‘Send me the little rat! Will you do it? Then I will stand by your side in the arena. Go now! It would be wise to be well clear of this dungeon before I escape.’

Filled with anger at her presumption, I made myself small and left the cell.

Once back in my quarters, I seethed with anger at her foolishness. But as the trial approached, I found myself growing more desperate. So I summoned Hom and ordered him to send one of his rat-selves to guide the witch.

No doubt it was futile. I did not see how she could even free herself from the silver pins, let alone storm the Plunder Room.

I blew myself up to my favourite fighting size, which was a head taller than Nessa, and made my preparations. First I brushed my long thick black overcoat – something I would not entrust to a servant – and polished its thirteen bone buttons. The sabre I thrust into my belt; my two favourite newly sharpened blades went into the scabbards on my chest. A third dagger I hid in my coat pocket.

After about half an hour the homunculus scurried out of his
hole
and clambered up onto the chair to face me. He seemed somewhat breathless, and his brow was flushed with excitement.

‘There is news!’ he exclaimed. ‘The purra escaped and then breached the defences of the Plunder Room. One of the Triumvirate is dead!’

I looked at Hom in astonishment. How had she managed to do such a thing? ‘Where is the witch now?’ I demanded.

‘Gone, master. The murderess fled Valkarky and is heading south. A large band of Oussa has been sent after her with orders to catch her quickly but kill her slowly.’

I was filled with anger. No doubt she had always planned to make her escape. She had used me. I had been a fool to trust her. And why had she not taken the head of the horned god with her? She had claimed it was important to her. No doubt she had lied about that too.

It was time to go and wake up Nessa and her sisters. In less than an hour we had to face the teeth and claws of the Haggenbrood.

As I stepped into the corridor between the two rooms, I suddenly sensed danger and reached for my sabre.

‘Sheathe your blade, mage,’ said a voice that I recognized. ‘Save it for the arena!’

The witch assassin stepped out of the shadows and smiled widely at me, showing her full set of pointed teeth. She was wearing leather straps which crisscrossed her body, and in the attached scabbards she carried her blades. ‘Where is the leather sack?’ she demanded.

‘It is safe,’ I told her.

‘Safe?! Nothing is safe in this city. I opened your most secure vault with ease and took what was mine. What I have done, others can emulate. I have human enemies – witches and mages who serve the Fiend. It is only a matter of time before they follow me here!’

‘Two witches have been here already. They had the sack in their possession when I encountered them. I killed the live one and chopped the dead witch into six pieces. She is somewhat inconvenienced and poses no threat.’

‘Then you have done well, mage. But there will be others. They will never stop. Show me the sack.’

I led her back into the room and handed her the leather bag. She quickly opened it, peered inside and sniffed three times. She did not draw forth the god’s head.

‘Now leave me alone for a few moments. I need to hide this from prying eyes.’

Her words offended me. Had we not made a trade that meant we were allies? I pushed the affront to the back of my mind. The room was sparsely furnished with just a couch, two chairs and a table. There was nowhere the sack could be hidden unless she used magic. I did as she requested and returned five minutes later.

‘Try and find it,’ she said softly.

I tried briefly but without success, using a little of my magic. That did not mean that, given enough time, I could not employ more and discover its whereabouts. But it was well-hidden by her powerful magic. I was impressed.

‘It would not be found easily,’ I admitted. ‘I did not expect to see you again and thought you had deceived me. Reports say that you have escaped the city and are being pursued by the Oussa.’

‘We have a trade. Like you, I always keep my word. I promised to aid you in the arena and, yes, I will fight alongside you. It was easy to lay a false trail. And now to business – when do we face the Haggenbrood?’

‘Within the hour. We need to tell the eldest of the three sisters that you will be replacing her.’

‘Yes, I would like to talk to all three girls – we are humans and alien to this city. I would like to reassure them that all will be well, so I must speak to them alone.’

‘If you wish. It is customary to keep one’s purrai in separate rooms but as a special concession, because of the danger we will soon face, I have allowed them to be together. Come. I will take you to them.’

NESSA

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