Dawn of the Demontide (19 page)

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Authors: William Hussey

BOOK: Dawn of the Demontide
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‘If you plan to hurt him, I won’t tell you what I know.’

‘Oh, I think you will. Remember how you came to me, desperate and afraid? How you pleaded for me to save you from the sacrificial knife? I will honour the promise I made to you, my dear. I will protect you from the evil of the Elders. But only if you tell me everything. You have five seconds in which to speak. Tick-tock, tick-tock … ’

‘All right, I’ll tell you!’

The girl crumpled under the weight of her betrayal. She took a moment to compose herself.

‘I overheard them speaking on the phone,’ she said. ‘Dr Holmwood is bringing Adam Harker to the Hollow. They’ll come through Wykely Woods at around midnight the day after tomorrow.’

‘This is excellent news. And now I have a task for you, my child.’ Crowden gestured with his hand and the smoke mirror drifted towards him. The girl shrank back as the Master’s eyes bored into her. ‘You must arrange for Jake Harker to be present when his father is driven through the woods.’

‘How?’

‘I leave that to you, but know this: if you fail me, you need no longer fear the Hobarron Elders. I will cut your pretty throat myself.’

A beautiful summer morning had broken across Hobarron Bay. The sun sparkled on the sand, waves wrinkled the sea. The gulls, flying in circles overhead, had returned to their nests. It was as if the madness of the green mist had never happened.

Walking down to the beach, Jake had noticed that the trees and bushes showed no sign of the vapour’s acid touch. Even the burns he had suffered had healed overnight. Only an old bicycle dumped in the lane and a tiny grave in the back garden told him that his recent experience had been real. Last night, the second Omen had come to Hobarron’s Hollow.

How long now until the Demontide? How long until the Elders made
him
their sacrifice?

Eddie Rice raced across the beach. He reached Jake and doubled over, hands on his knees, panting.

‘Hey, Jake! I’ve brought Rachel with me. Hope that’s OK.’

The girl walked across the shingle. Her expression unnerved Jake. Was she angry with him?

‘I tried calling you last night,’ he said.

‘My battery was dead. Can I have a word? Eddie, stay here a minute.’

Rachel led Jake a little way up the beach. Out of earshot, she turned and said:

‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?’

‘’M sorry?’

‘Eddie told me you wanted to meet him down here. Why?’

‘I wanted him to show me a cavern in the bay. A place called Crowden’s Sorrow.’

‘Have you heard the story of what happened in that cave?’

Jake nodded. Rachel made a disgusted sound.

‘So let me get this straight: you want a twelve-year-old boy to show you the place where his uncle was murdered? How insensitive can you get?’

‘I don’t want him to go
into
the cave, Rachel. If he could just point out where it is, that’s all I need.’

‘It’s still a hideous idea. Why do you want to see the place at all?’

Because it was here that the Witchfinder was frozen in time, Jake thought. Because inside that cave might lie the secret to holding back the Demontide.

‘If I thought you’d understand, I’d explain it,’ he said.

‘Try me.’

‘I wouldn’t know where to begin.’

‘Then I’m coming too.’

‘What?’

Rachel stalked back across the beach.

‘Eddie!’ she shouted. ‘Jake wants you to show us where this cave is. Crowden’s Sorrow. You OK with that?’

‘Sure,’ Eddie said. ‘Why wouldn’t I be? Come on.’

Something in Rachel’s face told Jake that a smug smile would not be wise. He shrugged instead, and jogged alongside Eddie. The boy headed to the far side of the bay, making for a line of large, jagged rocks.

It was cooler here, in the shadow of the cliffs. Darker, too. Coming out of the brilliant sunshine, Jake had to blink the beach back into focus. The jumbled line of rocks started halfway up the shore, ran alongside the cliffs and plunged into the sea. It was obvious where the boulders had come from. Over hundreds of years, the wind and the rain had quarried the great red stones from the cliff face.

Eddie climbed up onto one of the boulders. He pointed to a spot roughly halfway along the mouth of the bay.

‘Crowden’s Sorrow,’ he announced.

Jutting out from the cliffs, the entrance to Crowden’s Sorrow reminded Jake of a wolf’s gaping jaws. The impression was strengthened by the fang-like rocks ranged across the cavern roof. Otherwise tranquil, the sea lashed before the cave, leaving foam around its lips. This wolf was hungry.

For a while, no one said a word. They just stared into the darkness, each imagining the terror of being dragged into the cave. Of dying there …

‘Eddie, I want you to stay here,’ Jake said.

‘What? No way!’

‘Listen to me. We need a lookout, right?’

Eddie didn’t look convinced.

‘OK, buddy, I’m gonna level with you. There’s a good chance we’re being watched right now.’

‘Who by?’

Jake hesitated. ‘Can I trust you?’

‘Course.’

‘OK. There’s stuff I haven’t told you, either of you. Before I came to the Hollow I had some …
weird
experiences. Things I can’t explain. Not yet. But I can tell you this—something evil is coming to this village. Maybe it’s already here. The mist last night was an omen of its presence. Anyway, it’s possible that there are answers to be found in that cave. This force—this evil—it has people working for it, Eddie. Bad people. I need you to keep watch while me and Rachel check out the cavern. We can’t do this without you, mate.’

Eddie’s eyes glistened with excitement. ‘Cool.’

‘Keep your eyes on the clifftops,’ Jake instructed.

‘What am I looking for?’

‘Anything strange.’

Jake and Rachel started across the boulders.

‘Good work with the James Bond stuff,’ she whispered. ‘That ought to keep him occupied.’

‘I meant every word.’

The girl paused. ‘Jake, what’s going on here?’

‘I wish I knew.’

It was a tricky climb. The rocks leading to Crowden’s Sorrow were jagged and seaweed-slick. The further out they got the more the waves pounded against the cliffs. The spray rained down on Jake and Rachel and they were soon soaked to the skin. On the other side of the bay, the sun blazed. Here, under the shadow of the mountainous cliffs, an autumn-like chill sank into their bones. It took almost a quarter of an hour of clambering to reach the cavern.

This was it—the place he had seen in his dreams.

‘You shouldn’t have come,’ Jake said.

‘Don’t be so melodramatic. It’s just a cave. A big, creepy, scary-ass cave.’

Rachel attempted a carefree laugh. It came out as a nervous titter.

Every instinct in his body screamed at Jake. He felt that same foreboding sensation he had experienced on the night of his mother’s death. They ought to turn back. Run. He took a final look back at Eddie—the kid was dutifully scanning the cliffs—and stepped inside Crowden’s Sorrow.

It felt like a punch to the gut. Jake reeled backwards. The wet walls, the dripping rock, the moss covered stalactites: everything spun in a sickening haze. He heard Rachel’s voice, felt her hands, but reality seemed to fall away from him. The inner fabric of the cliff had been infected by it—evil. Evil pouring from every porous rock and pooling in every limpid pond. Its voice, made up of a thousand tongues, reached into Jake’s mind.

We see you, Jacob Harker.

Jake struggled to speak.
What are you?

Master of all, servant to none. We are the multitude that wait behind the Door. We are the Ageless and the Unending.
The voice cackled.
Our time draws near.

I won’t let you into this world,
Jake cried.

Foolish boy, how can you stand against us? True, you stopped us once before but this time …

I stopped you before? What do you mean?

He does not know. He does not see. Mortal eyes are so bound by Time and Space. We shall say no more. In our silence, his failure is assured …

‘Jake, answer me. Are you all right?’

Rachel’s face—beautiful as the dawn—came out of the darkness. With her help, Jake got to his feet. He tried his best to hide his fear. The demons had reached out and identified
him
as their opponent. Perhaps in some way they had already known that he had set himself the task of standing against the Demontide.

‘What happened?’ Rachel asked.

‘It was nothing. Come on.’

Jake slipped the rucksack from his back and took out two torches. He handed one to Rachel.

‘Fainting like that isn’t nothing, Jake. What’s going on?’

Jake sighed. ‘Before the end of today, you’ll know everything.’

‘You promise?’

He made a cross over his heart. ‘Hope to die.’

‘Don’t say that.’ Rachel shivered. ‘Not here … So, what now?’

Jake swept his torch around the cave. The finger of light stretched into unending darkness.

‘We go forward,’ he said, and reached for her hand.

The echo of the waves rustled through the cavern. After about twenty metres the rocky ground beneath their feet began to slope gently upwards. With each step, the ceiling dropped and the space between the cavern walls became ever narrower. Eventually their torches played over a craggy wall.

‘End of the line,’ Rachel said.

Jake held out his hand, palm forward, like a man pushing against an invisible door.

‘I can feel a breeze.’

He stepped sideways and pressed his shoulder against the cave wall. A smile spread across his face. He reached for Rachel and drew her close.

‘Do you see?’

‘It’s just a dead end. Jake, I don’t underst—’ And then her eyes picked the illusion apart. ‘Amazing!’

What had looked like the back wall of the cave was, in fact, a screen of rock. It reached out from the left wall and cut across the path. There was a gap of about a metre through which a cold breeze whistled. The colouration of the rock, even the streaks of iron embedded in it, matched perfectly with the right-hand wall, giving the impression of a solid barrier.

‘It’s like one of those magic eye pictures,’ Rachel said. ‘Stare at it long enough and you see through the trick.’

‘It’s not a trick of Nature,’ said Jake, ‘it’s deliberate.’ He shone his torch on the craggy screen. The light followed the iron streaks. ‘These veins have been painted in to match up with the natural iron veins on the right-hand wall.’

‘Why would anyone do that?’

‘To fool people like us. Anyone exploring the cave would think they could go no further.’

Jake started forward. Rachel caught the strap of his rucksack.

‘Do you have any idea what we might be walking into?’

‘Honestly, I don’t. Rachel, if you want to go back … ’

‘Not on your life. I feel like Alice jumping down the rabbit hole.’

‘Whatever lies ahead, I can guarantee you one thing,’ Jake said. ‘It ain’t Wonderland.’

Together, they stepped into the heart of Crowden’s Sorrow.

The mouth of the cavern had been the size of a cathedral doorway. This inner space carried on that theme. Any cathedral on Earth could fit easily within this vast natural chamber. Walls of red rock soared upwards and came together to form a colossal arched ceiling. All across the ceiling, hundreds of stalactites hung down like an army of watchful gargoyles. Stalagmites rose out of the floor, a mirror image of their roof-dwelling brothers.

Water, dripping from the roof, had somehow managed to mould the stalagmites into twisted, human-shaped forms. Perhaps it was just that instinct that Alice Splane had talked about—the tendency to see faces in clouds or in the flames of a fire—but those giant stone formations looked uncannily
human
. Here was one with a hunched back and long, gangly arms. Over there, a rock figure with the face of an old man. The stalagmite nearest Jake seemed to have a hood covering its head. A kind of three-fingered hand reached out from the folds of its cloak. Dozens of these strange statues covered the cavern floor.

Jake and Rachel turned off their torches. There was no need for them. A bright green moss or lichen grew in patches all around the cavern and gave off an eerie phosphorous light.

‘This must reach right under Hobarron’s Hollow. The entire cliff is a shell!’ Jake’s whisper boomed in the empty space. ‘Oh my God—Rachel, look at this!’

He took her hand and raced her between the stone figures.

A towering staircase stood at the centre of the cavern. Unlike the stalagmites there was no question of this being a natural feature. Each step, smooth and regular, had been deliberately carved. Jake craned his neck upwards. His eyes strained. It was no good. The staircase soared into the gloom and beyond his line of sight.

‘I think it reaches into the ceiling,’ Jake said. ‘Someone has carved right through the cliff!’

‘But why?’

‘Only one way to find out. I hope you’re good with heights.’

They started the ascent.

‘This even out-weirds that green mist yesterday,’ Rachel said. ‘You won’t believe this, Jake, but I saw it eat through the swing in our garden!’

‘You’re just lucky you don’t have any pets.’

‘What?’

‘Doesn’t matter.’

‘My dad said it was like acid rain. Said there had been a spill of toxic material just up the coast and the wind had blown it in. I checked on the internet—there was no mention of anything on the news. And I’ve never heard of acid rain so powerful it could eat through solid wood! Anyway, why didn’t it eat right into the houses?’

‘I think they were protected,’ Jake said.

‘How?’

‘By magic.’

Rachel stopped and turned. ‘Are you making fun of me?’

‘Never. But, Rachel, think. An acid mist that comes out of nowhere. A rain of toads … ’

‘It’s weird,’ she admitted, ‘but there must be rational explanations.’

‘Sure, climatic pressures can account for the toads. Maybe your dad’s toxic spill story can explain the mist. But put them together, and maybe we need to look beyond the rational world for answers.’

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