Changeling Dark Moon Page 15

  To the small number of nethercreatures that lived and worked within its walls, it looked exactly what it really was -a giant fortress of a tower that rose up into the sky like some fearsome spear, thrusting upward into the heavens. Gwendolin had almost swooned when she had first seen the citadel in the Netherworld many years ago. It was not vast in the amount of ground space that it took up, but it made up for this by its sheer magnificence and height as it towered above anyone that approached it. It was right and fitting that Caliban should dwell within its walls, and that she too should be one of the few beings that he allowed to reside there with him.

  They were almost at the portal that she had created in the wall. Leroth had no entrances or exits. Any would-be attacker approaching would be surprised to find that it looked impregnable, there being no obvious point of attack in the sheer obsidian black walls that made up the lower part of the enormous tower. Portals had to be fashioned to allow anyone or anything either in or out, and it was through one of these that she now manoeuvred the creature. In the distance she could smell the north Atlantic Ocean, the cold wind blowing in from it cooled her, and she welcomed this momentary distraction from her efforts.

  The sheer amount of sorcery that she had to perform now was weakening her by the moment. She was being forced to maintain a number of complicated spells all at the same time and this was taking its toll on her. She wavered for a moment and almost let her control over the Draugr slip. The creature sensed this and renewed its attempts to break free once more. The physical assault that it directed against the invisible walls around it might well have been levelled at Gwendolin herself, and she flinched as the blows thudded into the walls of the magic field encapsulating the Draugr. She breathed in deeply, inhaling the cold air through her nose and blowing it out again slowly from between her lips, silently cursing Caliban for the umpteenth time and wondering why on earth he had not simply agreed to kill this monster when it was clear that it was uncontrollable.

  ‘And where would be the reward for all your hard work if we took that option, eh?’ he had said, with a small shake of his head. ‘No, Gwendolin, I want you to be able to witness the fruits of your labour before we depart this place. Do as I bid and set the creature free on the descendants of those that buried it in the first place. After all, I wouldn’t wish to deprive you of your moment of glory.’

  She knew that she had enraged him with this latest fiasco, only managing to successfully resurrect one of these creatures when she had expressed such confidence to him about the entire project. If she were not as useful to him as she was, he would undoubtedly have killed her there and then on the spot. Caliban suffered failure in the same way that he suffered disloyalty, and his retribution was swift and merciless. But for now at least he needed her. He would make sure that she cleaned up her own mess before he let the matter go, and later she would have to find some new scheme to impress him.

  ‘Whatever you say, master,’ she had said, bowing and shuffling out of the room backwards, always keeping him in her line of sight. You could never be too careful with vampires.

  ‘Oh, and, Gwendolin, do it straight away, please. I do not wish to stay here any longer than we have to. I’m sure that there are other … more serious matters that have arisen while we have been here on this little diversion.’

  He held her eyes and she stared back into those fearsome dark pools. She had never got used to the deep emotions that his look always created within her – a mixture of terror and excitement, and she tried not to let the shudder that ran through her show too obviously.

  It had always been like this between them. He had initially allowed her to join him simply to spite his brother, but as the years had passed and her powers had grown she had become more important to him. The Tower of Leroth was the perfect example of this. Before she had joined Caliban, the tower’s formidable powers had been allowed to fall away, forgotten, and were eventually abandoned. The citadel had stopped being used as a portal between the human realm and Netherworld, becoming merely a focal point of legend within the demon world. She had unlocked the powers of the bastion that had lain dormant for so long and revived the fortress back to the powerbase that it had been during the great wars at the start of the Netherworld’s history.

  The Tower of Leroth was perhaps the most revered monument in the Netherworld, with stories abounding about how it had played a crucial role in deciding the outcome of the Demon Wars that were waged between the two ruling demon lords, Skaleb and Azsnog. The Netherworld had been ruled by the brothers together for thousands of years before Azsnog had decided that he was unhappy with a shared realm. He attempted to unite the Netherworld under one banner – his own – and the Demon Wars, which were to last millennia, began. It was argued that the Tower of Leroth was the single most important factor in Skaleb’s eventual defeat of his brother. Skaleb had not wanted the fight. He had no wish to rule the Netherworld alone, and in the final battle, in which his beloved brother was killed, Skaleb had disappeared from the demon realm and the fortress’s secrets had been forgotten. That was until Gwendolin had rediscovered them thousands of years later through her diligent research. And once her powers had grown to a degree where she was confident of unlocking the citadel’s powers again, she had done so and made herself indispensable to Caliban.

  The cold night air revived her from her mental wanderings and she shook her head in irritation at her momentary loss of concentration. She forced the Draugr out through the opening. The Maug that were to transport the revenant from here stepped back in fear at the sight of the creature. They had already heard of the devastation that it had caused for the few seconds that it had broken free earlier, and they were right to be fearful of it.

  Gwendolin steered the creature towards the open doors of the truck and paused for a second, summoning up the strength that she would need to lift it up into the air and deposit it in the back of the armoured vehicle.

  Once the creature was inside, the Maug slammed the doors shut, locking them from the outside. Gwendolin allowed herself to relax for the first time since she had begun the task of removing the creature from the fortress. Inside the lorry, the Draugr was in a demented frenzy, smashing into the confines of the heavily reinforced steel box. She looked up at the vehicle as it rocked and swayed on its suspension.

  ‘We need to get moving as quickly as possible,’ she said. ‘That thing will not hold it for very long.’

  The demons nodded. Two of them climbed into the front cab of the lorry, looking fearfully behind them at the sounds emanating from within the vehicle. Gwendolin joined the remaining two guards in the car ahead. She would see that the creature was released as per Caliban’s instructions and then return to Leroth, where she would make preparations for their immediate departure.

  ‘Will you be OK to drive, Charles?’ Tom asked as they left the house. ‘I’d like the chance to make a few last-minute phone calls.’

  Charles nodded and caught the keys that Tom threw to him. Alexa jumped into the front of the car next to Charles, and Trey squeezed into the back seat with Tom, eyeing the military hardware and paraphernalia that surrounded the Irishman.

  ‘Did you get hold of Martin?’ Trey asked as they pulled out of the driveway.

  Tom shook his head and looked down at the grenade launcher on his lap, running his fingers across the ugly weapon’s metallic surface. ‘No,’ he said in a low voice, ‘and what’s worse is thatI couldn’t manage to get hold of anyone over there to have a look in on the place. The housekeeper, Mrs Beauchamp, appears to have disappeared and the phones are all out. I’ve left messages at the Beauchamp house for her son, Tiny, to go over and check the place over for me, but I have no idea whether he’s gone yet or not. I hope to God that Martin is OK,’ he said. ‘If he is not, and we have been compromised, the next hour or so is going to be a lot more interesting than we hoped.’

  After this revelation the interior of the car went silent and stayed that way as they drove out into the Icelandic countryside. The ra
in had started up again, the wipers making a soft, low moaning sound as they swept the water from the windscreen. Trey pulled his coat around him to ward off the cold that the car’s heater had still not managed to chase away and looked out into the darkness beyond his window. His thoughts inevitably led to Lucien lying in the darkened room in London. His nerves were starting to get the better of him again and he wished that his guardian was with them now instead of on his own, back in the apartment. Of course they wouldn’t be here if Lucien was not dying in that bed right now. They had to get the Globe and save him.

  Trey thought of the life that he had now, trying not to dwell on the things that he guessed might be yet to come in the future. He knew that he would not be able to get through it without Lucien around to help and guide him. But it was more than that. It was more than just some selfish need that made him so determined to save his guardian. He allowed himself to imagine that Lucien was dead – hating himself for doing so – and he experienced an all too familiar sinking feeling. He had lost everything and everybody that had ever mattered to him in his life. All the things that other people seemed to take for granted had been peeled away from him until there had been next to nothing left. If they failed tonight, he would lose yet another person who had come to mean so much to him. Despite the very short period of time that Lucien had been directly involved in his life, over the last few months Trey had become acutely aware of just how much he wanted him – needed him – around. He couldn’t face this world of nightmares unless he had Lucien to steer him through it.

  He looked at the back of Alexa’s head as they plunged ahead into the night. He wouldn’t allow Caliban to do to her what he had done to Trey. Caliban had already taken her mother from her; he mustn’t be allowed to take her father as well.

  Trey watched the nightscape flash past and determined that they would rescue the Globe from Caliban. Not only that, but they would all escape Leroth safely.

  Unfortunately, he was correct in only one of these assertions.

  They pulled up at the bottom of the gently rising hill and climbed out of the four-by-four vehicle. Trey looked over at Charles and was surprised to see how nervous he looked – the mask of arrogant self-assurance was gone for now, replaced with an anxious scowl that started at the eyes and spread out to every facet of his countenance. The apprehension that he was displaying made Charles appear his true age, and Trey was suddenly reminded that he was really only a few years older than himself. He sidled over to him and gave him a friendly slap between the shoulder blades.

  ‘How are you feeling, Merlin?’ he said in a voice that belied his own feelings.

  Charles turned to him and forced a smile. ‘I guess I’ll be happier once I know exactly what we’re up against. What about you, dog-boy?’ he asked.

  ‘Bricking it,’ Trey admitted, nodding his head and staring off into the distance.

  Charles laughed loudly. It was a strange sound in the circumstances and Alexa turned round to look at them, a nervous smile playing on her lips.

  ‘Shall we go then, Tom?’ she asked.

  The Irishman hefted the big gun in his hands. He pursed his lips and nodded slowly, lifting his face to the sky so that a thin, slick coating of rain washed over it. ‘Might as well,’ he said. ‘As my old ma used to say, “You’ll never plough a field by turning it over in your mind.”’ He turned to Trey, nodding at him. ‘You’d best be doing your thing – we don’t know what’s up ahead.’

  Trey removed his clothes, stripping down to his underwear, and morphed. The violent and sickening rush of pain was over almost as soon as it began and he opened his eyes to see his three friends looking up at him – a look of horror and fear on their faces. It saddened him, knowing that no matter how many times they had seen him like this before, the reaction they were showing now would always be the first thing he saw when he opened his eyes as a werewolf.

  The world was suddenly very loud and the usual sense of dizziness swept through him for a few seconds before he could better adjust to the assault on his senses. He closed his eyes again. Bright yellow and green washed across his vision as the smell of the sea blew in on the wind, these colours flecked with a mixture of browns, greens, and curiously deep purples from the smells of the earth and rocks around them. His wolf senses gave him a curious synesthesia – allowing him to experience smells as colours. Another scent carried on the wind, which set his nerves on edge and brought a lake of saliva into his mouth – it was a reddish-brown smell and he knew in an instant what it was: rabbits. There must have been hundreds of them around, buried away in their underground houses beneath his feet, and the smell of them sent his head reeling. He took a deep breath through his mouth, fighting the animalistic urge to start digging at the ground to try to unearth the creatures.

  The new sensations, and the emotions they stirred up, rolled over him like a great wave, and while the amulet that he wore around his neck enabled him to maintain control, aspects of the wolf inside him battled against his efforts to suppress them. He loved the feeling of being outdoors in his werewolf form. It was as if when he was outside, like this, the true realization of his powers was almost within his grasp. He wanted to throw back his head and howl, and this desire was coupled with an even stronger one – to run off into the night, letting the wind and rain rush past him as he sprinted through this vast open landscape. To run … and to hunt.

  Stop it, Trey, he told himself. Get a grip, and remember what you are here for. He reached up with his huge clawed hand and fingered the Amulet of Theiss that hung around his neck, knowing that without it he would have no control over the base urges that nagged at him.

  He looked around him, taking in the details of the land and noting the topography, his wolf eyes observing the nuances of the rocky ground up ahead and instantly assessing the best routes to provide the maximum amount of cover as they ascended the hill. He felt good. The power that coursed through him was as invigorating as ever, and this, coupled with the adrenalin in his system, made him feel something akin to invincible.

  He nodded down at his group of friends again. Even through the rain and the wind he could smell the fear and anxiety that came off each of them, his own scent mingling and merging with theirs. He tried to ignore the smell, choosing to look ahead up the hill rather than take in the thick, sluggish brown colour that clung to his companions.

  ‘Let’s go,’ said Tom, and they started their approach to Leroth.

  Trey effortlessly jumped the twelve feet between two craggy rocks on either side of a grassy depression. His friends would have to climb down into the hollow, and he would wait here in order to help them up on to this side.

  The terrain was easy enough for him, his long powerful legs making light work of the undulating ground that seemed to be hard and unyielding at one moment, soft and malleable the next. He had taken it upon himself to scout ahead, trying not to go too far as the others struggled along behind him.

  He crouched down on the large rock he was standing on and looked back through the darkness. He could see that the effort was taking its toll on his friends, the rain making the going that much harder, especially for Tom, who was not just older than the other two but also carrying a significant amount of extra weight in the form of the equipment he had brought. (He had already refused Trey’s offer to carry it for him.)

  The wind blew the rain against him, but he did not feel the cold. He used his nose and ears to scan the land ahead for any sign of the citadel that they sought. He stopped, keeping perfectly still for a second and cocking his ears to take in the tiniest sounds up ahead. He heard it again, the sound of a vehicle somewhere over the ridge that lay about fifty metres away.

  He turned back at the sound of footsteps to see Charles approaching the other side of the depression. ‘Anything yet, Trey?’ he asked. Alexa had caught up with him now and, much to Trey’s relief, he could see Tom bringing up the rear.

  ‘Not yet, but I thought I caught the sound of an engine starting up somewhere close by, s
o hopefully we are not too far away now.’ Trey formed the words in his mind and pushed them out to all three of his friends, glad now that he had allowed Alexa to bully him into learning the spell.

  ‘If that’s the case, no more talking for a while,’ Tom said, taking hold of Trey’s proffered hand and allowing the werewolf to haul him easily up over a line of rocks that formed the steep wall in front of him. ‘Any noise will carry for a long way out here, even with this rain. And I think that we should avoid any magic for a while too. There’s no telling how much security there is around this place or what they’ll be looking out for.’

  The rest of them nodded and they moved forward towards the tall bank of rock and earth that rose up ahead of them, slipping as they tried to climb up its steep incline. Trey, pausing near the top, clearly caught the harsh scrape of two metallic surfaces rubbing against each other, but when he looked back down the slope at his friends it was obvious that he was the only one who had heard the sound. Holding out his huge clawed hands, he signalled them to stop. He pointed up to his ear and then again forward. Tom nodded and slowly climbed up to join him, staying in a low crouch that was copied by the others as they neared the crest of the ridge to look over at the scene below.

  The fortress was huge. A giant black tower that thrust its way skyward as if some monstrous dagger had been set into the earth, handle down. It appeared to have been carved from a single piece of rock, and Trey couldn’t imagine how such a thing could have been created. The edifice seemed to resonate with a dark energy. To Trey’s ears it seemed almost to hum, like overhead power cables do in a downpour, except that the energy that was coming off the vast black structure filled him with a raw and undiluted fear that bit down deep into his bones. There was no sign of any entrance into the tower. It rose out of a base of gigantic rough-hewn rocks that Trey’s eyes scanned again and again for any hint of an opening.