The White Fox (21 page)

Lucy, having recovered from the heat shock, was now deeply regretting allowing herself to be talked into this. Her feet were throbbing, she was filthy with dust and sweat, and she could tell she looked a mess. She slunk over the rock, her arms folded defiantly, kicking small rocks out of her way. She reached the end of the platform and gave the deep sigh of a spoilt little girl out of her depth. In fact, it
was
the sigh of a spoilt little girl out of her depth. As this thought occurred to her, she gave an extra vigorous kick to a pebble positioned just by her foot. It soared through the steaming air and plummeted over the edge, plopping unseen into the expanse of magma.

A moment later, she realized that something was wrong. Surely the lava hadn’t been rippling like that a second ago? Just as she was deciding that she was imagining it, a small amount was thrown up to sizzle next to Hakim.

The elf stared at it, then grabbed Jack and yanked him backwards. More magma splattered the edges of the platform, and the steam coils changed to erratic zigzags. All the others gathered as far back as they could without disappearing into the tunnel.

The fact was, none of them could see over the edge. If they’d been able to, they would have noticed that the magma was sagging in the middle, as if someone had pulled the plug on the mountain. It sucked downwards like a whirlpool, and something else—something the shade of bone but much, much bigger—became visible within. Then the lava exploded upwards in a wave.

A massive shape spiralled out of the molten rock. The steam instantly dissipated, as if afraid of what it was concealing. As red liquid poured off it and out of its orifices, the thing became visible.

Lucy and one of the dwarves screamed.

Towering over them was the most horrific creature Jack had ever seen, far surpassing the hellhound. It resembled a gigantic lobster, but it was positioned like a hunched humanoid. Armor of charred bone covered its form, and the gaps between seethed with dark energy. Six appendages extruded from its hide, four like spider’s legs and two, the top two, ending in pincers the size of small houses. Its flat head stretched horizontally, its mouth a circular gash, and its eyes burned with the same otherworldly phantasmagoria that had occupied the skull of the demon on Earth. It opened its maw and roared, displaying at least ten circles of razor-sharp fangs.

Jack stumbled backwards, his heart pounding in shock. He had not wanted to see what came out of that steam. He breathed in shallowly and gagged. The same stench of darkness penetrated his nose, searing this throat and making him retch. This was far, far worse than the hellhound. Jack just stared upwards, the height of the being before him seeming to exemplify the hopelessness of their situation. He knew for certain this was a demon, but the last one had been a fraction of the size, and Alex had said that a bullet could keep it at bay only temporarily. How were they supposed to defend themselves against this thing, let alone when their choice of weapons was confined to the Dark Ages?

Hakim was the first to act. He flung the others behind him and flourished his staff expertly, but before he could do anything, he was knocked across the platform by the blow of one of those huge pincers. Another swung diagonally down, narrowly missing Lucy.

Jack leapt out of the way of a third blow and landed hard on the rock. He scrambled to his feet.

The rest of the party were spread out, each having drawn their weapons. Adâ had twin curved blades, and all the dwarves had axes of varying sizes. Hakim was nearby Jack, not moving.

Slowly, so as not to attract attention, Jack sidled over to the fallen elf. He bent down and listened for breathing, and to his great relief, he found it. Still trying not to make himself noticeable, he grabbed the elf under the arms and began to drag him towards the mouth of the tunnel. If he could just get him out of the heat …

A horrific screech made Jack drop Hakim and cover his ears. He saw Adâ in front of him, holding the two blades in an
X
above her head, sparks flying everywhere as she blocked the blow of one of the pincers. The demon retracted its appendage and smashed it down again harder, knocking Adâ to the ground. The pincer opened, and tendrils of some pulsating, dark substance snaked out through the air, wrapping around the elf’s body like serpents.

Jack gripped his sword handle and pulled. It caught in the scabbard, ripping off his belt instead. The scabbard clattered to the ground a few feet away, and at the same time, Adâ’s head was disappearing within the black wraps. Abandoning caution, he sprinted over to her and began tearing at the cords with his bare hands. The repulsive octopus-like tentacles felt rubbery to the touch but were clamped like a vise over her body. He yanked one with all his might, but as soon as it came free another took its place, hiding the strip of cloth he had managed to uncover.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw one of the dwarves pulling Hakim into the mouth of the tunnel, whilst the other three formed a kind of phalanx at the back of the platform with the hefty metal shields they had been hoisting on their backs up the mountainside. For some indescribable reason, a page from one of his old history textbooks flickered to the front of his mind—the difference between a phased withdrawal and a retreat. For a fraction of a second he envisaged escaping—charging up the passage, leaving all this behind—leaving this crazy world, with its elves, dwarves, and demons, and running back to the lake, back to Earth, back to the way things had been before this madness.

But no. There was Lucy inside the tunnel, watching with pallid horror. There was Hakim, hunched against the rock face, unconscious. There was Bál, strident before the beast, ready to parry any of its blows. And there was Alex, though somewhere in an unknown dark oblivion amongst the stars, who Jack knew needed help. And there was the second pincer swinging out of the roasted air, catching him in the stomach and launching him off his feet, his fingers scraping uselessly at Adâ’s glutinous cage as he soared through the air, tumbling downwards into oblivion.

“You really need to start saving yourself, you know.”

Jack heard the voice inside his head, somehow distant. Fearing what he might see, he opened his eyes.

He could see the churning lava beneath him, hear the shouts from above, feel the heat, and yet he seemed to be suspended in the air on his stomach. Inari was floating in front of him, resting on his front paws, his glowing fur oddly unremarkable in the crimson light emanating from the magma below.

“What … ?” Jack managed groggily. Then he actually cried out as he realized he was lying on a narrow rocky ledge below the original platform about three feet away from fiery oblivion.

The fox inclined his head but said nothing.

“What happened?” Jack said after a few moments, pushing himself as far away from the drop as possible.

“You fell,”
Inari replied.

“Where are the others?”

“Up on top still, I assume.”

“Couldn’t you have checked? Couldn’t you have helped?” Jack said exasperatedly.

“I can’t directly interfere with mortal affairs. And besides, if I’d gone, you could have fallen.”

Jack glanced at the bubbling liquid below and decided he was glad Inari hadn’t left. “Can we go back up?”

“Yes. But you won’t be seeing me for a while now.”

Instantly, Jack felt the absence of stomach you get going down a roller coaster, and he began to float upwards. Through the miasma of heat he could make out the hulking form of whatever the grotesque creature was. He saw that the lower part of its form was anchored in some kind of black rock that clung to the surface of the lava like a magnet. Somehow it seemed less terrifying than before. With a slight lift of hope, he realized that they were now dealing with a known quantity. He had seen the worst this thing could do, so now they knew what they were up against. And they could fight back.

He reached the edge of the rock and was roughly deposited on the side, apparently unnoticed by anyone else. He straightened up and surveyed the scene, but, once again, the ivory fox had vanished.

Those black, rubbery tentacles were extruded from the massive pincers; six bundles of dark wire hovered eerily in the air, the steam cascading up and around them. There was only one free person left—even Lucy had been apparently absorbed—and it was Bál. He was in the same position as when Jack had been knocked off but looked much more battle worn and exhausted. The heat finally seemed to be getting to him. Even as Jack watched, another set of tendrils began to weave out of the pincer, snaking their way like eels over to Bál’s swiftly failing body. He started to batter them away, but as he knocked one, another coiled in at a different angle, darting closer and closer to scraping his armor and enfolding his skin.

Jack took action immediately. He leapt onto the rocks, grabbing his scabbard as he went. Rolling with surprising grace, he landed, gesticulating on the hard, warm ground. He lurched upwards and drew his blade. The silver caught the fiery light and glinted. Simultaneously, Bál collapsed, and the tendrils began to slide over him like sinisterly solid water. This time Jack wasn’t taking any chances. With a gasp of effort, he raised his sword above his head and sliced down through the tentacles.

It was not elegant or particularly efficient, but it worked. With a rumbling crack, the demon’s head twisted around to him as the split tendrils writhed in apparent agony. The creature growled (a sound like millions of cars smashing to the lowest point of the Grand Canyon at the same time), and the second pincer swerved out of nowhere at his abdomen.

But Jack was ready. He rolled to the left, dodging the blow, and extended his sword arm.

There was the satisfying squelch of severed sinew, and Adâ collapsed to the ground, covered in reeking black liquid. She clambered to her feet, looking shocked but resolute. “Thank you,” she gasped, spitting out more slime. “You cut the others open. Leave this to me.”

Jack nodded, and as he moved to break more cocoons he heard the familiar screech of pincer on metal. Soon all of them were free, and the platform was drenched in thick black liquid. Lucy looked dazed, which was a good thing, because she probably hadn’t been that filthy before in her life.

Hakim staggered to his feet and raised his staff. “Jack, take the others and get out. Leave this to us.”

“No,” Jack said, looking him right in the eyes, “I’ve got to fight.” He felt dazed also, but it was mixed with a strong sense of righteous vengeance. He felt anger bubbling under the surface, ready to explode outwards. This was for Alex. Even if the creature had nothing to do with the Cult, to him it was the same entity that had taken his closest friend. He had been powerless last time. Not again.

Hakim’s eyes softened. “You’ve done brilliantly, but we can take it from here.” The elf ducked as the pincer, now mobile from lack of victims, arched over him, cutting a ream through the steam. He raised his staff and roared an incantation.

A bolt of bright blue lightning shot over Adâ’s head, striking the creature in the chest. It looked perturbed but not beaten, and Hakim joined Adâ, one deflecting blows, the other firing spells.

Jack watched with the others from the mouth of the tunnel, Lucy by his side. The dwarves, even Bál, seemed to have recognized that they could do no more against this foe and were showing no great impulse to leap back into combat. Jack felt a growing sense of panic as the battle became closer and closer cut, not even trying to explain to himself how Hakim seemed to be shooting electricity from wood. Even his poor basic knowledge in chemistry told him that this was physically impossible, just as it had done back on the hilltop on Earth.

Once or twice, Adâ was knocked sideways, momentarily stunned, and Hakim had to swiftly dodge a blow. Finally, the decider came. Adâ raised her sword to block another strike, but at the last moment the pincer opened, the lower half taking out her legs. She collapsed forward hard, one of her swords spinning over the edge to be swallowed up by the fire. Hakim’s staff crackled as he cut off the bolt and thrust it into the air. A diamond of crystalline light swirled around him and Adâ, but even as it faded, the second claw came back to strike anew …