Crik (12 page)

‘Your stupidity is infuriating. I could turn that fine beast against you; he would have you strewn across the grass and in a moment. Your friend, atop the wolf, grants me this power, or have you forgotten what happened in the upstairs room?’ He smiled at Inara, his wrinkles deepening. ‘You should tell me your name, before it’s too late. My patience is spent. Give me what I want, or rot in the ground. The same goes for you,’ he told the boys. ‘Why waste your gift, join me, and together we will accomplish so much; be part of something grander than you are by yourselves, live with your brothers and sisters.’

‘We won’t listen to you,’ shouted Bill, his face pinched white.

‘I’m not talking to you,’ remarked Krimble, absently.

Yang had not moved since coming to the house, locked in place by Krimble’s power. Jack dismissed the idea to rush Krimble, he remembered the man’s quickness, and though Krimble had a crooked back he was a grown man, he could not overpower him.

‘I could maim these two, like I did with this other vessel.’ Krimble pointed a crooked finger at the two boys, though his gaze never left the girl. ‘I could do that quite easily. My saw is hanging on a nail a few yards behind me. I have lost my patience, so I won’t wait any longer, either join me, or drown in the stinking bog. No one will come to retrieve you here.’ His grin broadened.

Black turned his blue eyes on Jack, baring his teeth, snarling from deep in his throat. Still carrying Bill and Inara, he moved toward Jack, his hackles rising in thick bristles. The wolf’s howl both froze Jack’s blood, and turned his legs into a quivering mess. Even when Black’s huge paw stepped across him, Yang refused to help. Alone, Jack only half heard the screams from Inara, and the repeated orders from Bill for Black to stop. He wanted to flee into the darkness, only the wolf saw better than him in the dark and could outrun him over any terrain.

‘What’s your name?’ the familiar question passed Krimble’s lips in an excited rush.

Bill yanked on Black’s ears to no avail, the wolf continued to bear down on Jack. Drool, fed by Krimble’s need, poured from the stretched maw.

Preparing himself for the attack, Jack felt movement inside. Touching his stomach, he could feel his skin stretch as whatever lived inside him turned and twisted. Horrified at the proof of a demon living inside him his entire life overrode his fear of the wolf. Although the skin bubbled beneath his hand, he felt no pain. Revulsion, as horrid and invasive as terminal cancer, swept through his system. He shuddered with the profound knowledge that he was not alone in his body. How would it appear? This question brought back the image of the dragon outside the cracked egg. Alternatively, the forked tongued demon could prise his jaws apart and vomit onto the ground. Could it even look different; some new horror concocted to scatter his sanity. Going back a couple of hours, he had regarded his shadow as an extension of himself. All the trouble Yang caused, no matter how buried the origin, came from himself. His shadow acted out his subconscious; or so he had thought. This flawed knowledge, tied him closer to Yang than anyone. Knowing a demon controlled Yang, changed everything. Yang’s fascination with dead things, and weapons of war, became sinister in the hands of a demon. When Yang got him into trouble, had the demon done that as a test? At each repeated question, the Narmacil pushed against his hand.

A golden-eyed wolf crept around the house, her tail held high. Jack spotted her, at first mistaking the canine for the demon that still twisted in his gut. The she-wolf, unnoticed by the rest, continued to stalk closer.

The struggling Narmacil left Jack’s stomach, reaching higher, making him cough as it fluttered into his chest. Finding it hard to breathe, he focused on the new arrival. He recognised the she-wolf as the same one Black had cowed back in the trees. If Krimble took notice of Jack’s gaze he would have spotted the wolf, but being so obsessed with the emerging Narmacil he failed to spot the new arrival until too late.

The wolf leapt soundlessly, sinking her fangs into Krimble’s neck. Krimble crumpled to the ground wrestling with the she-wolf, digging his fingers into her coat. Spurts of blood coated the white fur around the mouth of the wolf, as Krimble’s efforts to release himself grew weaker.

‘Where’d she come from,’ shouted Bill.

The demon slipped from Jack’s chest back into his stomach, allowing him to breathe. Sucking in air he looked up and saw Black had lost interest in him, the wolf watched the smaller wolf kill Krimble. Inara whooped her delight at the demise of her tormentor.

Looking around Jack saw no sign of the rest of the pack. ‘She must’ve followed on her own. You said they were the dominant pair, they must share a greater connection to one another than the rest.’

‘Well, however she got here, I’m glad she did.’ Bill looked up from Krimble’s corpse. ‘He would have killed you,’ he said, patting Black, ‘I tried to stop him but he wouldn’t listen.’

‘I don’t blame you, Bill. There’s nothing you could’ve done, he proved that upstairs when he attacked Inara with the rat.’

‘I’m not finished with him,’ said Inara, her dark eyes set on Krimble’s body.

‘What do you mean, you aren’t finished with him?’ asked Bill. ‘Even the wolf has finished.’

‘He doesn’t deserve to rest,’ said Inara, curling her lip.

‘What do you mean to do Inara?’ asked Jack, fearing the answer as though it were a venomous serpent.

‘He never gave up on me; he wanted my Talent more than the others.’ She smiled. ‘I’m sure in time he would’ve got what he wanted, changing my suffering to something altogether more horrible.’

‘What?’ Jack hated asking the question, he already had too many disturbing revelations for one day, for one lifetime.

Pointing at Krimble, Inara flicked up her hand, bringing him to his feet. Blood leaking from his ruined neck, turning his groans into a babbling cry. Krimble opened his eyelids, to reveal dead white orbs.

‘He belongs to me now,’ said Inara.

The group, compromisin
g
of two wolves, two boys, a crippled girl, and a dead man, left the marsh covered in sticky mud and harassed by flies. Sitting on a log, Jack fished a stone from his shoe. He threw it back into the marsh with a satisfied grunt. Rubbing the sole he found a blood blister, he wanted to burst it, but mud caked every part of him, and he did not want to infect the cut.

Bill swung down from Black, waving his hand at an annoying fly. ‘He’s ripe; we should leave him rot in the marsh.’ With a sigh, he sat beside Jack. Out of habit, he reached for his lost hat. ‘Grandpa’s favourite hat,’ he moaned when his hand touched only hair. ‘He’s going to kill me; and if he does, don’t you go bringing me back, you hear.’ He waved a finger at Inara. ‘Not saying you haven’t got a great Talent, if I didn’t have such a great one myself, I’d love to be able to raise the dead. It’s just I don’t want to go rotting in front of anyone. Just look at Krimble, the flies have taken his fingers down to the bone, and there’s something moving in his trousers; I saw it.’

‘He deserves his punishment, I won’t release him.’ Inara brushed away a cluster of flies hidden in Black’s wiry hair. ‘You never saw the worst he did, I’m here to make sure he answers for his crimes.’

Looking across at the rambling wreck, Jack wondered whether Krimble could feel the insects eating his eyes, and crawling up his nose to lay their eggs. He hoped so; Inara deserved her retribution, as did Huin, and the other victims.

‘Stand back,’ said Inara, waving her hand for Krimble to step away. With a stiff-legged gait, Krimble moved back, until his awkward feet fell into a deep puddle. ‘That will do.’ Krimble worked his silent mouth.

‘He took a cloud of flies with him, but not all.’

The flies, not content with Krimble, hung in the air over Bill. Fortunately, the insects left Inara alone. When the bloodsuckers first appeared, Jack feared for her legs. Cringing at the sight of them, still weeping blood, he kept a steady eye on her bandages. So far, no fly had landed on her, and he intended to make sure none had a chance. Flies laid eggs in open wounds. Touching the warm skin of his stomach, he noted the demon had fallen silent. He tried to imagine it had left him, fluttered away when Krimble coaxed it from hiding. Yang, throwing clods of mud at Krimble, did not allow him to entertain that hope for long. The Narmacil burrowed under the skin like a fat maggot. Like all parasites, it fed from its host.

‘I’m starving,’ said Bill.

Inara watched him, her dark eyes scornful. ‘You were just complaining about the smell, and with all those flies circling you it would be anyone’s guess whether you’d eat more of them or food.’

Bill ignored her scathing tone. ‘I can send Black hunting, if you’d get off him. These woods are teeming with game. We can light a fire to keep the flies away.’

‘Send Silver.’

‘I told you I can only control one animal at a time.’ Bill looked across to where the slender she-wolf sat with her head on her outstretched paws. ‘Black would buck you off his back and crush your skull, if I weren’t here.’

‘Then why isn’t she attacking us?’

Bill shrugged. ‘Black’s the dominant male, she follows him. I guess we’re now her pack.’

Jack had listened to them argue all morning. Once they saw a frog, and for the next hour, they argued whether it was a frog, or a toad. Another time, Bill said he had once held his breath for three minutes, Inara argued that he could not. All pointless, and Jack guessed they picked things to argue over to stop dwelling on their march through the bog. Only they were no longer in the bog, and they still bickered.

‘We should travel a little farther in before we eat, put distance between the stinking marsh and us. What do you think Jack?’

‘We call him Yin, only his mother calls him Jack.’

‘She can call me Jack, if she wants.’ He would be quite happy to distant himself from his ever-present shadow. ‘I don’t fancy eating in sight of the bog, I’ve seen too much of it. We don’t have to go far, only let’s get under the trees.’

‘What’s her problem,’ said Bill, once they started to move. ‘She disagrees with everything I say, and you side with her every time.’

Jack had guessed Bill wanted to walk with him, instead of riding Black, to have this private word. ‘I’m not siding with anyone. I’m keen to enter the woods, and not worry whether my next step will go into a puddle, or a sinkhole. Besides, you’re arguing with her as much as she’s arguing with you.’

‘I’m not.’

‘I’ve listened to nothing but you two for hours; believe me you’re giving as good as you get.’

Bill scratched his head. ‘The cap must’ve blown off when the wolves chased us.’

‘Your grandfather has plenty of hats, he won’t miss one.’ He took hold of Bill’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze. ‘Don’t worry; we’ll be home before long.’

Casting his eye over his shoulder he saw Inara was out of earshot. The trees cut out the sun making the wood almost as dark as night. ‘Listen,’ he said.

Glancing across, Bill noticed Jack’s tenseness. ‘What’s wrong with you?’

‘I have something to tell you.’ He told Bill everything, from seeing the Giant in the storm, of finding the egg and its hatching. Finally, in a rush of whispered words he divulged how the demon had evaded capture by jumping into Bill’s open mouth. Once told, his friend’s reaction was startling and worrisome.

‘I’m not stupid.’ Colour had risen in Bill’s cheeks. ‘The drugged tea Krimble gave me knocked me out, but it didn’t addle my mind. He tried to lure, what you call “our demons”, so he could have our Talents. As the creatures bestow our Talents, it makes logical sense that one of them leapt into me the night before we entered the woods.’

Dumbstruck, Jack muttered, ‘Aren’t you upset? These things are using our bodies like hollowed out trees. It frightens me to death.’

‘I’m angrier that my best friend kept what he knew secret from me.’

Undeterred, Jack said, ‘There’s something alien inside you.’ He poked his friend in the stomach. ‘Right now it’s hiding in there, doing what it wants.’

‘Everyone back home has a Talent. The Mayor, my Grandpa, even your mother. Generations have had Talents. All you have to do is read the old headstones at Long Sleep to know that. No harm ever came to them.’

‘You didn’t see the thing.’ Jack wanted to grab his friend’s shoulders and shake him until he understood.

‘I don’t have to see it. Before the other day everyone pitied me. Poor ol’ Bill, he can’t do a thing.’ His face drooped into a sullen sneer. ‘Having Yang you never understood how alone I felt.’

‘I wish I was alone,’ Jack cried. Even in the shade he had caught glimpses of his shadow. ‘Each time Yang shows himself I see the forked tongued demon. They are using us!’

‘Think what you like Yin; I’m happy. Finally I have my Talent. I will return to the village ahead of Black. None of your tales of demons will stop that from happening.’

Troubled, Jack stopped trying to argue. They both carried on in awkward silence.

After the barren marsh, they found the amount of life on view as they entered the dense woodland obscene. Everywhere grew new fauna, smothered in colour, smelling rich and intoxicating. Yellow-ringed caterpillar ate the leaf of a blue bush. Beside the bush sprouted red fronds, like a creature in a rock pool, snatching any caterpillar that wandered too close. A haze of gnats, stirred in the hot morning air, joined the marsh flies in an agitated cloud. Bees flew by, intent on collecting nectar from the flowers to carry back to their queen. Small birds, with purple breasts, and long beaks, swooped through the air, snatching the insects with practised ease. Squirrels, rabbits, and hedgehogs, crossed each other’s paths in the undergrowth. The trees altered from the slender Maple with its broad leaf and musical branches, to the thicker limbed oak. Faces, sunken into the trunks of the oak, stared out in silent reproach. Red sap ran down these humanized knots of wood, giving them tears.

‘We should’ve gone back the way we came.’ Bill stamped on a fat root. ‘We’re lost.’

‘That happened when we left the hunter’s path, and with Krimble messing with the wood we had no chance of finding it again. Besides, we could not risk running into the wolves; with Inara with us, we had no chance of outrunning them.’

‘I guess,’ conceded Bill, refusing to acknowledge their earlier disagreement. ‘The thing is, by coming north we’re taking ourselves farther from Crik. No one will look for us all the way out here. We have to circle back at some point, whether those wolves are there or not; there’s no escaping it.’

‘We’ll get there, only we’ll do it by a different route. The first thing we need to do is get Inara back home.’ Jack looked back at the girl riding the wolf, who beckoned him.

‘There’s a clearing past those trees,’ she told him, once he and Bill dropped back to her side. She pointed her chin to where two old oaks pushed away from each other.

Standing on tiptoes, Jack gasped in astonishment. ‘What is that?’

‘What can you see Yin?’

What he saw defied explanation. Framed by the trees, and cradled by a large glade, stood three stone figures, two women and a man, each wore armour and held a decorated shield. A jade hand held the statues in its palm. The male statue looked to the sky, shielding his blind eyes with the blade of his hand. Grotesque faces carved into the tips of the green fingers stared at the three statues. One face passed a ragged tongue over bulbous lips, and another gave a sly wink. Emerald light shimmered across the clearing as sunlight shone through the green stone. All the statues took on the hue, their blank faces appearing reptilian. Beyond the sculptures appeared a small hill, alive with yellow flowers, beyond which ran a gentle stream. Fish, glistening in the water, leapt into the air. An apple tree, its branches full of red fruit, overlooked a circular pond.

‘What’s that green light?’ Bill, lacking Jack’s height to see over the intervening foliage, began to jump, gripping Jack for support.

Trapped in his thoughts about Bill, Jack had missed the green light spilling through the trees. Atop Black, Inara had easily spotted the queer light.

Growing tired of jumping, Bill climbed Black, sitting behind Inara where he grew silent as he viewed the clearing with its strange inhabitants.

‘It’s a safe place, its protected,’ said Inara, reading Jack’s reticence. ‘I’ve stayed within similar glades with my parents.’

‘There’re other places like this?’ whispered Bill, regaining his ability to speak.

‘Of course, the woods aren’t only home to trees, you know.’

Without offering any further explanation, Inara dug her knees into Black’s side, guiding the wolf toward the green light. Clearly not as keen to enter the clearing as the girl, Bill lifted his eyes to Jack, who felt even less sure of the mysterious statues.

Jack’s skin tingled as the green light touched him, making him itch; also, his hair lifted as though by a stray gust, but no wind stirred the air. Following behind Inara he took less notice of the peculiar sensation than if he had entered alone. Besides, Inara had assured him it was safe, and he trusted her - didn’t he?

The crisp grass underfoot, crackled under their weight. The crunching vegetation made him think of running through a cabbage patch.

Silver trotted ahead, her nose close to the ground. Without her intervention Krimble would have killed him. Yet he must never forget her savagery; if Black kept her in check, what would happen if something befell Bill? Not wanting to dwell on that possibility, he followed the wolf, at a slower pace. 

Krimble, dropping decaying flesh wherever he walked, stirred a deep disgust in Jack. The raised body of the marsh man decayed at an accelerated rate; patches of skin peeled back, exposing red bones. Jack could not deny the physical revulsion the zombie stirred in the pit of his stomach, nor could he ignore his greater mental aversion to Krimble the man. Could the demon have twisted Krimble into kidnapping strangers? Who had desired the captive Talents? If the demon had manipulated the man, then would his own demon try to do the same to him? His concern deepened, as with faltering steps he trailed the group.

Black pulled up short of the emerald hand, his tail held stiff. Inara, her interest focused on the sculpture, failed to notice the wolf’s reticence. Bill, having gained an appreciation of art from an assortment of books, mirrored her fascination. Thankful for the silence, and an end to the incessant bickering, Jack forced himself closer to the strange artefacts. In the face of new discoveries, he forgot about his tingling skin.