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Authors: Gabriel J Klein
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saw the narrow white band around his neck.
‘So that’s the new vicar, unless I’m very much mistaken,’ muttered Percy.
‘This way, please,’ said his daughter, leading her customers into the restaurant.
Ashen-faced, Maddie picked up the tray and went back to the kitchen, leaving the door marked PRIVATE to swing shut behind her. Alan put down his pint. The beer had left a flat metallic taste in his mouth. The quiet evening spell was broken.
S he looks like something just stepped over her grave, he thought.
‘It’s time I was off up the woods,’ he murmured to John. ‘Don’t want to keep young Caz hanging about in this weather.’
John nodded. Blue ran to the door wagging his tail.
CHAPTER 11
They fought until blinding rain had snuffed out the last of the torches and Alan had missed parrying an obvious stroke, taking a heavy blow on his shoulder.
âThatâs it for tonight,â he panted. âThis old foot soldierâs wet through to his skin and canât see an inch beyond his nose.â
âAre you okay, Al?â Caz asked anxiously.
âItâs nothing that a hot bath wonât put right.â
Before the first, grey beginnings of the new day when the rain had died away, Caz returned to Thunderslea. A familiar sense of fear and disconnection gnawed at any desire he might have had for rest and sleep. He recognised the initial stages of a dreadful mind state that always had the same outcome if he allowed it to take him over.
All the sound gets sucked away. Thereâs a moment of total silence and then the roaring begins, like Iâm hearing the sound of pure raw energy making itself into matter, and I see that other tree and all the dead bodies hanging in the branches. We call it World Tree but to the spooks itâs just the Tree. Theyâre always there waiting for me. They raise their shields and shout one word in one huge voice. Itâs always the same word but I never know what they say. Then theyâre gone, leaving me feeling like Iâm nothing and nowhere, and wondering what Iâve missed.
He put the spear over his shoulder and swung one-handed up onto the lowest of the great boughs of the tree. Long familiarity and the acute night vision, that no longer surprised him, made for an easy climb to one of the uppermost branches, where he had a clear view of the sky.
He sat with his back to the trunk and wedged the spear between two thick bunches of mistletoe, leaving the great barbed head of the black weapon just inches from his face. The slightest touch of any of the three razor edges drew blood that burned like acid, but the wound always sealed instantly and the first of the Runes of the Deathless would be shining on one of the three equal sides of the blade for as long as he could maintain his concentration. He never knew whether this phenomenon was unique to him or just part of the alien nature of the spear.
Mostly I have to blood it to make the rune appear but sometimes I can do it just using my mind. Iâll make it work tonight.
Focussing his complete attention on the rhythm of his heartbeat, he willed the rune to materialise on the blade until the sweat stood out in great drops on his forehead and his whole body ached with the effort. But the black metal stayed dull and blank, leaving him no choice but to raise his left hand and close it over the head of the weapon, forcing his palm onto the tip. The pain was intense and he never got used to it. When he took away his hand the rune was glowing luminescent blue on one of the three polished sides of the blade.
Disappointed with himself, he pushed back his hood to feel the light wind drying the mercifully human moisture on his face. The wound on the palm of his hand had already vanished and the first, faint edge of fading night was rising over the hills. He knew what the problem was. He didnât know what to do about it.
Iâve learned what it is to be scared shitless since I went for a
‘So that’s the new vicar, unless I’m very much mistaken,’ muttered Percy.
‘This way, please,’ said his daughter, leading her customers into the restaurant.
Ashen-faced, Maddie picked up the tray and went back to the kitchen, leaving the door marked PRIVATE to swing shut behind her. Alan put down his pint. The beer had left a flat metallic taste in his mouth. The quiet evening spell was broken.
S he looks like something just stepped over her grave, he thought.
‘It’s time I was off up the woods,’ he murmured to John. ‘Don’t want to keep young Caz hanging about in this weather.’
John nodded. Blue ran to the door wagging his tail.
CHAPTER 11
They fought until blinding rain had snuffed out the last of the torches and Alan had missed parrying an obvious stroke, taking a heavy blow on his shoulder.
âThatâs it for tonight,â he panted. âThis old foot soldierâs wet through to his skin and canât see an inch beyond his nose.â
âAre you okay, Al?â Caz asked anxiously.
âItâs nothing that a hot bath wonât put right.â
Before the first, grey beginnings of the new day when the rain had died away, Caz returned to Thunderslea. A familiar sense of fear and disconnection gnawed at any desire he might have had for rest and sleep. He recognised the initial stages of a dreadful mind state that always had the same outcome if he allowed it to take him over.
All the sound gets sucked away. Thereâs a moment of total silence and then the roaring begins, like Iâm hearing the sound of pure raw energy making itself into matter, and I see that other tree and all the dead bodies hanging in the branches. We call it World Tree but to the spooks itâs just the Tree. Theyâre always there waiting for me. They raise their shields and shout one word in one huge voice. Itâs always the same word but I never know what they say. Then theyâre gone, leaving me feeling like Iâm nothing and nowhere, and wondering what Iâve missed.
He put the spear over his shoulder and swung one-handed up onto the lowest of the great boughs of the tree. Long familiarity and the acute night vision, that no longer surprised him, made for an easy climb to one of the uppermost branches, where he had a clear view of the sky.
He sat with his back to the trunk and wedged the spear between two thick bunches of mistletoe, leaving the great barbed head of the black weapon just inches from his face. The slightest touch of any of the three razor edges drew blood that burned like acid, but the wound always sealed instantly and the first of the Runes of the Deathless would be shining on one of the three equal sides of the blade for as long as he could maintain his concentration. He never knew whether this phenomenon was unique to him or just part of the alien nature of the spear.
Mostly I have to blood it to make the rune appear but sometimes I can do it just using my mind. Iâll make it work tonight.
Focussing his complete attention on the rhythm of his heartbeat, he willed the rune to materialise on the blade until the sweat stood out in great drops on his forehead and his whole body ached with the effort. But the black metal stayed dull and blank, leaving him no choice but to raise his left hand and close it over the head of the weapon, forcing his palm onto the tip. The pain was intense and he never got used to it. When he took away his hand the rune was glowing luminescent blue on one of the three polished sides of the blade.
Disappointed with himself, he pushed back his hood to feel the light wind drying the mercifully human moisture on his face. The wound on the palm of his hand had already vanished and the first, faint edge of fading night was rising over the hills. He knew what the problem was. He didnât know what to do about it.
Iâve learned what it is to be scared shitless since I went for a
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