A Strange Song of Madness (Part 1)

  Chapter 10

  Shaol and Pysuun hurried through the mist toward the Aksit’s house, disturbing the gentle, green strands that hung in the air as they went. The shroud made the streets more confusing than they usually were, but they were able to find enough landmarks to make their way through the city.

  As the pair turned into a street, Shaol saw something wrong at the end of a street. A light of white and brown that danced through the mist. It lit something, it was a street lantern but then it was something else. It was a tree with leaves like one he had seen on the way to the lake, then it was a lantern again, then the light was gone and there was nothing but the mist and stone buildings.

  “Something’s ahead,” said Shaol nervously, “we need to find another way.”

  “Follow me,” whispered Pysuun.

  Shaol did not turn his head from the place where he had seen the tree appear as they doubled back down the street, if the light would come down the street towards them he wanted to see it approach.

  Pysuun cursed and stopped in front, Shaol collide with the large body.

  “There was a horse, did you see it?”

  Shaol looked up the street, he saw the mist was kicked up and swirled as if something had travelled through it at great speed.

  “It was galloping down the street, someone was riding it.”

  There was a small gap in the buildings.

  “This way,” said Shaol.

  “That’s the wrong way,” said Pysuun his voice stressed.

  “We’re being surround by something, we need to keep away from it.”

  “If we are being surrounded we need to get inside,” said Pysuun and the point at a window in the front of a house, “there.”

  “We don’t know who lives there or how many?”

  “I would rather fight five men with bodies than spirits in a mist.”

  Shaol nodded, he would prefer that as well. Shaol did not bother with his shirt, he simply put his elbow through the window and the glass shattered. He brushed the shard away from the sill.

  “You first,” Shaol called.

  Shaol pushed Pysuun up and through the window, when Pysuun was through the window, Shaol grabbed the sill and pulled himself in as he did he felt something move in chest. He looked at his hand, blood flowed from a handful of tiny cuts.

  “This must be the Demon,” said Pysuun looking out the window at the green mist that hung, “the Mistress was in a panic this morning when she heard a Demon was seen. That was when they discovered you were missing.”

  Mist started to float into the room through the broken window.

  “It’s not a demon,” said Shaol catching his breath, “I don’t know what this is.”

  “Did you see the Clerics?” asked Pysuun.

  “Yes, we have a way out.”

  “Then, why did you come for me?” said Pysuun suddenly angry.

  “Your son needs a father.”

  “He needs to free of this city. I’m not important, Shaol, you should have left me. The gate is probably unguarded tonight with this mist.”

  “I’ll not leave you. I’ll not leave your son,” replied Shaol matching the anger.

  “You’ll leave me for my son,” growled Pysuun, “I demand it, I do not want you to risk his freedom for me.”

  “I won’t,” yelled Shaol, “that’s what I demand.”

  There was a moment between the two.

  “We have to get back to the Aksit’s house,” said Shaol quietly, but the anger was still in his voice, “we need the fabric from his house.”

  Something moved in the mists beyond the window, the form was not fleeting or quick. It was solid and slow. The form was nothing, made only of the fog it displaced. It had something like legs that held a body. It had something that could be arms, which hung lazily at its side.

  The thing turned and, if it had a face, it was watching Shaol and Pysuun argue in the dark room. Mist continued to flow through the broken window. A lantern on the wall came to life, casting a green light across the stone and metal furniture that had been squeezed into the small space.

  “What do we do?” asked Pysuun looking at the empty form that watched them.

  “Run.”

  The house was laid out much like the one owned by Aksit, there was a door which must lead through to kitchen. It was locked. A lantern in the hall came to life.

  Pysuun and Shaol ran up the stairs to the next level, there was only one level to the house, two doors led off into the rooms. Shaol tried the first door, it was locked. pushed tried the second, it was open and he pushed into the bedroom. The two Masters jumped up from under the leather and fur sheet.

  “You’re in danger,” shouted Shaol, “the Demon is coming.”

  “Children,” shouted the Mistress and grabbed the keys that sat on a stone pillar next to the bed.

  The Masters pushed passed the intruders, ignoring them, now focused on saving their children from the thing in the fog.

  There was a window on the far wall. Shaol went to it and threw open the wooden shutters, the green mist danced beyond the glass surface. Shaol opened the window and looked out, the mist started to fall into the room. He looked out, there was an alley below but it was no longer made of stone, instead it was a long strip of soft green grass.

  Pysuun pushed to the window and looked out.

  “We can jump,” he barked.

  Shaol could hear the sounds of Masters fleeing towards the front door as pulled himself up onto the window sill. Shaol’s head swam as he realised what he needed to do, he never liked being high off the ground, then a woman screamed.

  “Go,” yelled Pysuun.

  Shaol pushed from the window and hit then he hit the ground with a hard thud and a force went through his entire body. He lost his breath and stumbled forward his hands and the cold stone, the grass was gone.

  Shaol recovered and looked up, Pysuun’s large form was in the window. Pysuun pushed away, his legs caught on the wall and he fell, hard, to the ground. Pysuun lay on the ground coughing.

  “I’m…,” he spluttered as Shaol went to help him up.

  Pysuun staggered as he pulled himself up.

  “This way to Aksit’s house,” he panted,

  Green light filled the window above their heads and the pair raced through the street.

  “Something is moving ahead,” panted Pysuun.

  “Keep going,” yelled Shaol, “we can’t stay in this.”

  After a few more turns the pair were looking onto the street that led the way to Aksit’s house, the green lanterns crackled and sparked with the energy. There were five formless, figures which slowly paced the street. There was no logic to their movement, they just seemed restless and lost.

  “They are away from Aksit’s,” said Pysuun quietly, “is the front door locked?”

  “No,” whispered Shaol.

  “We can get there without them seeing us. They seem more interested with the other part the street.”

  Shaol did not like that plan, but he did not have a better one, they could not stay in this fog.

  “You’re faster, so I’ll go first,” said Pysuun, “after I have the door open, you move next, stay low and quiet. If anything goes wrong, don’t come for me.”

  Before Shaol could respond Pysuun had pushed himself into the street. The figures continued to wander aimlessly, their missing faces stayed fixed to the other alleys. Pysuun, crouched and low, moved up the street, passed the handful of houses to the front door of the one they needed, the formless creatures did not notice him.

  Pysuun pushed open the door and signalled to Shaol to move. Shaol stepped from the alley, keeping himself low, he crept forward. Suddenly, the figures spun their heads and they found Shaol crouched in the mist.

  “Get in,” shouted Pysuun, his voice echoed off the buildings.

  Shaol was running, fast as he could manage, his boots crashed against the stone of street. He reached the door and he looked back, the figures started to slowly wander up th
e street towards the house, then Shaol saw something bright and green appear at the far end of the street.

  Shaol was in the house and he slammed the heavy door shut behind him. He was panting wildly as he looked down the small corridor, Pysuun stood in the thick mist. The kitchen door was open and the back window had been broken earlier that night.

  “The children’s room,” stuttered Shaol as the realisation took his thoughts.

  Pysuun was going up the stairs.

  “Keys,” Shaol shouted and Pysuun turned back.

  Shaol found the could metal ring his pocket and tossed it too Pysuun.

  Pysuun was gone, Shaol started to follow when there was a bright, green face in the kitchen doorway, it had no body, only green claws that floated in front of it. Shaol cursed in fright at the horrid thing and was up the stairs.

  Pysuun was at the first door fumbling with the lock. It quietly clinked and he was through into the room. Shaol was at the top of the stairs when he felt something scratch into his leg, he fell forward.

  Shaol screamed for help. The door was open in front of him. Pysuun grabbed him and pulled him in. The room was gone.

  A plain lay before Shaol, hills in the distance, all made silver by the moonlight. Grass, tall and strong, grew across the empty land, where the city should have stood sat three squat pyramids. They gave off something that took Shaol’s mind and he filled with a strange drumming that was solid and low. The sides of the structures sparked with white energy on top of the centre temple a single, powerful light shot from the roof and went high into the void of the night sky.

  Shaol looked behind, in distance he saw campfires burning before large, leather tents lit by the large, orange flames.

  The city started to come back, stone by stone. The fortress and its black walls came and swallowed the temple at great speed, and then the city rebuilt itself as he had always know it.

  Shaol was in the room and he being dragged by Pysuun, the green face and its claws were at the door, but it did not enter. Pysuun slammed the door shut. Blood was running down Shaol’s leg from where the beast had caught him. The mist that had fallen through the door started to settle on the floor.

  A whimpering came from the corner, it was the youngest son of Aksit, Torta. He cowered away from the Unders who had stormed into his room and had brought the terrifying face.

  “Quiet, Torta,” snapped Pysuun, “you’re safe.”

  The two caught their breath, both stunned into silence. Shaol grabbed the boy’s bed sheet and tore at them with his teeth, making the fine fabric into a bandage for his leg.

  Then, the face was beyond the multicoloured glass of the child’s bedroom window, floating in the mist high above the ground. Torta yelped.

  “What is it doing?” asked Shaol as he wrapped his leg.

  “Watching,” said Pysuun, “that must be the Demon.”

  “Raphtune says there are no demons here.”

  “What do you call that?”

  “I would call it a Demon.”

  “Then, it’s a Demon.”

  “But they were after me.”

  “You must feel honoured,” said Pysuun slumping onto the bed.

  “It’s Zeria,” said Torta from the corner.

  “A god is not stopped by a pane of glass,” sighed Pysuun, exhausted and confused.

  “The Clerics called Zeria to help us with the Demon,” whispered Torta, “that’s why everyone had to stay inside tonight. Father said.”

  “No, Raphtune was sure there were no more Demons,” said Shaol finding a new meaning in the words, “they just saw something… the Masters saw Friend…”

  Shaol pulled the cold, chain from his pocket and Shaol looked at the stone. The face at the window sill started hissed and swirled in the miss and Friend was in room with them.

  “Up,” she barked and vanished.

  “Who is your friend, Shaol?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Raphtune had been right again, he had been a stupid bastard. The green face at window was gone.

  “It will return,” said Pysuun, “and I don’t think this window will help us when it does.”

  “Do we go?”

  “The only question I have is, do you trust it will give us what we want?”

  “She will,” said Shaol, he knew this.

  “Then we go up,” said Pysuun, “whatever it wants, I hope it uses the box to burn this damn city to ground.”

  The boy in corner gasped, Pysuun remembered he was still in the room.

  “You heard nothing, boy,” said Pysuun with a hard voice, “or our Demon will be back for you.”

  The boys jaw dropped and he fell silent.

  “The roof,” said Shaol.

  Pysuun nodded and moved to the door.

  “The children can’t stay here,” said Shaol, “if the things in the mist are hunting us, they may not be get to anyone they find here.”

  “I don’t care,” said Pysuun angrily.

  “Take the keys we need to get to the roof,” ordered Shaol.

  Pysuun growled to himself and started to remove a key from the key ring. Shaol turned to to the Torta.

  “You have to get everyone out of house,” said Shaol slowly to the boy, “Aksit’s in the cellar with the others. Get your brothers and sisters and get into another house, they’re doors are all locked so you need to be fast as you can be, you cannot wait or the green thing will find you.”

  The boy nodded and started to weep.

  “You need to be strong, boy,” said Shaol, “like your father.”

  The boy nodded and wiped his nose.

  “I’ve got the keys,” snapped Pysuun.

  Shaol took the key ring and handed it to Torta.

  “Remember, you heard nothing tonight,” said Shaol, “our Demon is powerful and will not be kind to you if you tell anyone.”

  Torta nodded.

  “Pysuun, give me the key to the roof. You need to go into the small room at the entrance and get the leather bags of cloth.”

  “Forget it, if we are alive by sunrise we’ll get the bags then.”

  “Open the door then, I’ll follow.”

  The door opened and the formless beings were in the hallway. The boy at the back of the room gave a cry of horror at the sight. The beings watched Shaol, but did not move. The mist started to fall into the room.

  Pysuun ran through the empty forms causing the mist to swirl around them, the beings did not respond, they stayed focused on Shaol. Shaol put the chain and stone back into his pocket.

  “They won’t harm you,” yelled Shaol to the boy who was backing away from the door, “get everyone out of the house, don’t stop.”

  Shaol ran into the mist, the formless things did not move, they only watched. The corridor air was heavy and moist. The green light of the lantern on the wall invaded every shadow in the space as Shaol hurried up the stairs he could hear Pysuun running along the hallway above. Then he heard Torta behind him.

  “Yasin, follow, hurry,” the boy barked at his brother mimicking his father.

  Another set of the stairs, Shaol looked behind, the green face was not there. Above, Shaol heard Pysuun crash into the wooden cabinet that had been moved. Shaol came up the stairs as he saw the outline of Pysuun limping down the corridor and then he disappeared up next set of stairs. The mist was becoming thinner as they climbed.

  Shaol climbed over the cabinet and found the stairs and made his way to the next floor and then the next. He climbed the stairs and was on the top level, the large, open room were Aksit held the feasts after he returned from the field. The many trophies of his conquests which hung on the walls were obscured by the thin green mist. The lanterns burnt here as well, crackling and spitting fiercely.

  Pysuun was at a door on the far wall. Shaol ran towards him. Pysuun cursed. Shaol turned an saw another green face, this one had a solid body wrapped in cloth. Shaol was through the door and he slammed it behind him.

  Shaol stood on the metal platform tha
t hung from the outside of the building, he quickly climbed the steps to the flat roof. Shaol was panting as he saw the large form of Pysuun standing alone on the far side of roof looking over the edge.

  “Shaol,” called Friend from behind.

  Shaol spun around and saw the large bird-woman her yellow eyes cutting through in the mist. Over her shoulder passed her wings a green face rose above the edge of the roof, its claws trailed behind.

  “Throw the stone to the corner of the roof,” shouted Friend pointing.

  Pysuun cursed again as the panic took him. Shaol grabbed the stone from his pocket and threw it, the thing clinked as it skittered across the rough surface. The green face turned and tracked it through the chain through the mist.

  “Take off the bandage,” ordered Friend.

  Shaol did not question her. He tore the bandage from his wound, it ripped the drying blood from his skinned. Blood started to flow freely and pool beneath his foot. There was something in the mist with them, something which danced but Shaol was to panicked to find it.

  The green face turned from the stone and was again focused on Shaol.

  “Get back,” shouted Friend.

  Shaol jumped away from Friend leaving a trail of blood as he went. Something white and fast emerged from the pool of blood and shot through the mist at the beast. Before he could comprehend what was happening, the green face screamed and howled became nothing.

  “Get the stone,” commanded Friend.

  Shaol ran across the roof and scooped up the stone. As he did he felt the roof start to tremble underfoot. He looked back at Friend and something was coming from the second pool of blood where he had just stood, a small tree started to grow from it.

  The roots of the tree dug into the roof and started to crack the stone. The building rocked violently, the tree sprung up and branches with leaves exploded into life as the stones underfoot began to slide as the roots continued to break apart the roof.

  “Up into the tree, before the roof comes down,” barked Friend.

  Pysuun ran from his side of the roof and started to climb the tree, Shaol did the same. The branches cracked and grew around them, forming the ladders they needed to climb higher.

  “Keep going, the mist clears soon,” came the voice of Friend from somewhere.

  There was a great crash from below as the roof slid from the house and crashed to the surrounding buildings and the street.

  Shaol kept climbing, soon the mist cleared and he found himself on a branch high above the city, now buried in a sea of green. Shaol looked up at the moon which gave off its natural silver colour again. Pysuun emerged from the large green leaves of the tree and found a sturdy branch next to Shaol.

  Shaol nodded at Pysuun and he simply nodded back, both exhausted, safe and lost for words.

  Shaol turned and surveyed the city. A few building near the inner wall stuck up out of the mist but the rest were lost below the fog. The fortress watched from above, green flames danced on the top of the eight towers. The black wall was still higher than the branch Shaol found himself sitting on, the secret of fortress where kept well protected.

  Then, the vision of the pyramids in the field came back to Shaol. The three temples could easily sit behind those black walls, just as Friend had said.

  “You will be safe here until the morning comes,” said Friend who was now perched on a branch next to Pysuun, “this magic cannot reach above the mists.”

  “What are you?” asked Pysuun.

  “I’m the one who will free you,” replied Friend flatly.

  “Are you a Demon?” asked Pysuun.

  “Does that matter to you?”

  Pysuun went quiet.

  In the moonlight, Friend could be seen clearly. She had the face of old, bald woman with rosy skin, two thin, pale yellow horns protruded from her forehead and then swept up and over her head then down to her shoulders where her two large wings grew, both were covered by a mix of brown and golden feathers. She wore polished silver armour that sparked in the moonlight, her legs and arms resembled that of a mountain cat or a dog, but not quite either.

  “Why didn’t you help us earlier?” asked Shaol.

  “This is not aid, Shaol, this is… There will be consequences for this,” said Friend and motioned to the buried city beyond, “this is what happened because I helped you last night. This tree, exposes us even more for what we are.”

  “What we are?” questioned Shaol to himself.

  “The ones who will go under the black wall and take back what is ours.”

  “Are you a Demon?” asked Shaol, softly repeating Pysuun’s question.

  “There are no Demons left in the land and the Clerics that have taken the fortress know that. They’re not hunting a Demon, they’re hunting magic.”

  “How did they find us?” puzzled Shaol.

  “The stone draws them.”

  Shoal looked at the chain in the moonlight.

  “We do not have much time now, we must move quickly,” continued Friend, “everyday you wait is another day they have to find you.”

  “How can we survive another night? Look at what they can do.”

  “This is the magic of gods, they won’t be able to bring these spirits again any day soon, this act will have drained their power. But the Masters do not need magic to hunt you and they will come for you tomorrow.”

  “How long will the Clerics be drained?” asked Pysuun.

  “I don’t know. It depends on many things. A week, surely. By then, though, it would be best you’re no longer in Tarlnath. They have seen you, they know you and that means they will find you when they have recovered.”

  “The Grey Men can do all this,” said Shaol to himself.

  “The Clerics can do many things with the aid of their god. The fortress is not a place men can rule, but the fact Zeria holds it does surprise me.”

  “Will you save my son when this is done?” asked Pysuun, “or is this a Demon’s trick?”

  “I am no Demon and I will pay my debt to all that help, but you must make it from the fortress. What lies in the fortress is beyond my reach.”

  “Hassa is behind the wall,” said Shaol.

  “Then she must return with you,” replied Friend flatly, “I cannot help anyone in that place.”

  The three sat amongst the soft leaves and watched the city glow beneath the blanket of fog. As the night stretched on the mist started to whirl and froth below the tree and it lurched upwards to keep them safe.

  “They are still trying to reach you,” said Friend, “do not worry, the tree will hold.”

  “How does such a tree grow in Gart?” asked Pysuun looking at the leaves on his branch.

  “That’s a very hard thing to explain,” said Friend, “but, put simply, it grows because it has reason too. When the fog lifts and you are safe it will no longer have that reason and it will be gone.”

  “And then, what do we do?” asked Pysuun to night sky.

  “We have the fabric for the cloaks,” said Shaol.

  “Cloaks?” asked Pysuun.

  “A disguise to make us look like the Grey Men,” started Shaol and explained the plan that he and Raphtune had devised that afternoon, Pysuun sighed heavily at mention of the boy’s name.

  “Then we get the bags, I have mended clothes, I should be able to make the cloaks,” said Pysuun, “Yor has free run of the meat store, we can hide there. He should be able to get us what he need to make them.”

  “Raphtune?” asked Shaol.

  “If the boy is so clever he will find us.”

  “When are the goods exchanged?” asked Shaol.

  “Should be two days,” replied Pysuun.

  “Then once your inside you must find the temple, get back to city and escape,” said Friend, “you have a week.”

  The mist swirled below the tree and green light of the mist pulsed.

  “What do you seek in temple?” asked Pysuun.

  “What is mine, nothing more.”

  “W
hy is it important?”

  “Because it will take you and your son from this city.”

  The sun started to turn the horizon purple and the mist over the city started to lose its unnatural colour as the green light receded from the city and crawl back to where the temple sat in the dirt square, Shaol was not surprised.

  “You’re safe, now,” said Friend, “you must be hidden before the fog clears. The Masters won't step outside until the sun has burnt it away.”

  Pysuun and Shaol descended from the tree and as they did the branches above cracked and snapped as they shrunk back into the trunk.

  Aksit’s house was barely standing, the roof was shattered and broken, most of it lost in the mist below. The pair dropped themselves onto floor of the ruined trophy room, the precious items made of wood and cloth had been thrown from the building. They made their way down the levels of the still crumbling house, climbing over the broken stone as they went.

  The front door was open, the house quiet. Two bodies lay crushed on the floor and one against a wall, they were all too disfigured to distinguish who they had once been. The water room had been destroyed, the barrels had exploded, water and blood mixed together in shallow pools across the ruined floor.

  The back door was blocked by a piece of the roof, forcing Shaol and Pysuun to climb over the debris in the street in front. The pair disappeared into the grey mist with the bags of fabric slung over their shoulders.