Read Online A Dusk of Demons by John Christopher - Free Book Online Page B

Dark One!”
    He had repeated that cry four or five times before the darkness overhead started to lighten. I looked up and saw brightness spreading out from the broken top of the mill. It was something likemoonlight, but more intense and more beautiful. At the center of the brilliance I noticed a single spot of black, but that spot grew and grew.
    They came out of that, swelling until they appeared to fill the sky. I saw a writhing tangle of shapes, winged and scaled and slimy, rotting faces oozing filth, hideous reptilian arms stretching out . . . reaching down to grasp me. All around I heard shrieks of fear, cries for mercy.
    The Demons were crying now too, a stridulation that rose above that clamor and seemed to pierce the skull. They used no words I could understand, but their hatred was plain and so was the message they conveyed: There could be no hope of resisting their anger, no end for their victims but a hideous death and after that damnation.
    The phantoms in my nightmare had been terrifying, but one woke from dreams. This time I knew I was not sleeping. The horror was real and inescapable.
    Terror distorted time. I could not tell how long it lasted, but eventually an end did come. The Demons faded from the sky, the Summoner spoke a final prayer to the Dark One, and we scrambled awkwardlyto our feet. Slowly the congregation dispersed, first in silence, then whispering, at last openly chattering. From relief, I guessed, but not merely from relief. I detected excitement in their voices, like magpies around a carcass. I did not care for that sound, either.
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    The following day was market day, and just after ten o’clock a small procession set off from the villa, headed by the General’s carriage. This was an opulent vehicle, drawn by two handsome black horses with plumed headbands, which had cushioned seats and windows for protection against bad weather. The Mistress and her daughters rode in that, wearing dark gray cloaks over their dark gray dresses but with hats sporting little colored feathers for the occasion. The General and Ralph had, as usual, ridden down to the town immediately after breakfast.
    Mother Ryan, Antonia, Paddy, and I followed in an open trap drawn by an old chestnut cob. A clattering wagon, pulled by an even greater dobbin of a horse with a wall eye, and crammed with servants who had been given brief leave from their duties, brought up the rear of the cavalcade.
    The carriage wheels scattered spray which occasionally blew back into our faces, but the sun came out as we set off. There was woodland immediately below the villa, but the road soon emerged into fields. That was where it forked, one heavily potholed branch heading north, the other curving around the hill toward the town. I looked toward the mill as we passed it. There was no appearance of menace now, but I shuddered at the sight of it.
    We were quickly past, though, and into the outskirts of the town. Not long after, our convoy came to a halt in the main square, and Paddy and I hastened to scramble down from the trap. We were eager to explore the market, and the Mistress had promised us money to spend.
    The square was dominated by a red-brick building, fronted by a white-columned portico, which was the courthouse, the seat of General Pengelly’s authority. The big carriage had drawn up directly outside, and a uniformed servant was helping the Mistress to alight. I headed that way but stopped as I heard Paddy’s voice raised behind me. I thought she might be rebuking my haste to get the spending money, but when I turned,embarrassed, she was not looking my way. I followed her gaze and saw him standing, white-shirted among the press of gray, his black beard unmistakable.
    â€œJoe!” I called. We raced to reach him and confused him with questions.
    â€œEasy,” he said. “Easy. One of you at a time.”
    â€œHas the Sheriff banished you too?” Paddy asked.