Realm Wraith (34 page)

“So, tell me,” Apolleta’s voice broke his thoughts. “Any luck remembering? Maybe figure out why you’re here?”

“Maybe. I had a falling out with my employer. Right before I nearly scared him to death and sent him screaming from the room, I started to remember a thing or two. I get the feeling I may have done something unforgivable.”

“What?”

“I don’t know. What about you? Any inkling for why you might be here?”

A heated glower told him not to bother asking. He stared at her, a thought crossing his mind.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

He didn’t answer, trying to focus. That same feeling of unnatural calm spread through him. Here in the Abyss, it came far too easy.

Apolleta turned away from him. “Knock it off, idiot.”

“Sorry, was just lost in thought,” the lie slipped through Rayne’s teeth, but with her not paying as much attention to him, he continued to stare at her, through her, without her awareness. He thought he saw something, anger, wrath. A violent sense of vengeance, a strong protective desire.

He snapped out of his trance as something snatched at his soul. His arms and legs faded from view.

“—what?” he tried to gasp out as the Abyss fell away with wild force.

His eyes snapped open, and the stucco pattern of his ceiling swirled before him.

“Rayne, wake up!” David’s urgent voice cut through the haze of Rayne’s confusion.

“Huh? Wha? Da-David?” he stammered.

“Sorry, I know you were sleeping but you’ve got to see this!”

A sleepy hand fumbled for his chair. Rayne rolled himself off the bed into the familiar seat. David beckoned him out into the living room, where the TV was on.

“Is that the news?” he yawned. The dulcet tones of the female news anchor drifted from the television speakers.

“…fell from the top of an eighteen story building in downtown Langfirth. There was no warning, onlookers were absolutely agape…”

The screen changed scenes to a street corner where several people babbled into a microphone, behind them a gathering of policemen, ambulances, and crowds of people.

“I just heard this yell and I saw a man falling. My children were right there! They started screaming; I tried to cover their eyes but they saw everything. What kind of a madman throws himself from a building?”

Rayne looked down at his watch. It was ten in the morning. He realized David must have been letting him sleep in, and looked at his friend in puzzlement.

“What’s this about?” he asked.

“Supposedly this happened about an hour ago. Look at the building.”

Rayne squinted at the TV, at the gathering of crowds before a tall, very familiar building.

“That’s—”

“We’ve just been informed that the man who threw himself from the roof was a partner who worked here.”

A teary faced, portly woman appeared on the screen, standing between two policemen, addressing the microphone that had been stuck in front of her. “Yes, I was his secretary. I brought in his coffee, and he started screaming as soon as I made eye contact with him. I didn’t know what was wrong, I thought maybe I’d put too much sugar. Then he ran to the window, and started beating upon it. He kept yelling all this rubbish about monsters, saying there was no hope for any of us. After that he just ran out the door, left me sitting there all alone.”

“He ran right past me into the stairwell.” The scene shifted to a security guard. “He didn’t seem quite right, so I followed him. He went right up to the roof. I tried to talk him down, but it all happened so fast. He just ran. Right off the edge, he did.”

Rayne didn’t even need to hear a name. He recognized the secretary, and knew who they were talking about. He knew why this had happened. David stared at the television.

“Do you think it was one of your coworkers?” he murmured. “What are the odds, you know? We were just there two days ago. Hope it wasn’t anybody you knew. I mean, it’d be terrible if it were anybody, but to have somebody you work with just kill themselves—”

“No,” Rayne replied in a hoarse whisper. “I knew him.”

David stared at him. “What did you do?” he asked, an accusing tone in his voice.

“I didn’t mean to,” he stammered. “Something came over me and I couldn’t help myself.”

“And what about your promise, Rayne?”

Confused, Rayne turned back to his friend. David’s voice wavered, in an almost unearthly echo as his eyes pierced Rayne, a strange golden glow within them. “We had a promise, don’t you remember?” The flesh on his face melted, as did the walls around him, swirling around together in a decaying mess. Shrieks and howls surrounded him, and Rayne suddenly realized his chair was gone, and he collapsed on his useless legs. Blood rained down all around him, and rivers of black water poured over him. He cried out like a frightened child.

“Rayne?
Rayne!
”

The world shifted back to normal. He felt David shaking him, his eyes brimming with concern. Rayne twitched while staring at him, terrified he might see a melting face again. “I don’t remember a promise!” he cried out.

“Promise? What are you on about? I asked if you knew the man, and you just started twitching. Do you remember where you are? How many fingers am I holding up?”

“F-four.” Rayne put a hand to his temples. All in his head again. “Little too much excitement, I think. I’m fine, really.”

David didn’t look like he believed him.

“We have identified the deceased man as a Mr. Barnaby Bastley, who worked with the firm for fifty-two years. We’ll bring you more on this story as it develops.”

“Oh my god, wasn’t he your boss?” David said. “Rayne, I’m so sorry.”

“Yeah. Tragic.”

Rayne rolled himself over to the couch and shut the TV off, not wanting to hear anymore.

“I was watching that!” David protested.

“Is Levi at school?”

“Yeah, he said he was going to Tommy’s place afterwards. I told him it was all right if he was home by supper.” David sat down in a nearby chair, opening the newspaper. “Sorry about causing so much excitement. I did intend to let you sleep in, since you were up so late last night fretting.”

Rayne desperately wished he could just rest, maybe even go back to sleep. Despite his brave face, despite seeing the waking world as less serious than he once did, and despite Apolleta’s assessment that he took too well to the horrors of the Abyss, it did not make things easier, and he still dreaded returning. His body managed to get rest in his absence, but his soul had known no peace for months.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” David got back up. “A parcel arrived for you earlier this morning.”

“Parcel? Really?”

He dumped a brown box into Rayne’s lap. “Any idea what it is?” he asked.

“I might.”

After learning Tomordred would never stop hunting him, Rayne had decided to find out whatever little bit of information he could about the creature. He had little to go on, and very few resources. An ancient demon with a shape he could not fathom. A great eye that only brought madness to any who gazed upon it. Black tentacles, of indeterminable count. A beast so vast that trees and grass could grow upon its back. He could not simply walk into a bookstore or a church asking for answers. But, he did have a computer, and a lot of free time. So, during the day, he had searched for something, anything. Somebody, at some point in history, had to have seen a creature who himself claimed to be far older than the Earth. There had to be some scrap of information out there somewhere.

“Is that a book?” David watched Rayne unwrap the package, pulling out a large, leather-bound tome. “That thing looks ancient. Where did you get that?”

“I found a collector on-line, and made him an offer.”

“How much did that cost you?”

“Five hundred pounds, give or take.”

“
Five hundred?!
For a book? That had better be a text on how to earn a thousand pounds in less than a minute!”

“I wish it were, but, I just wanted this book really bad. If it’ll help, an old tome like this might go up in value over the years; I could sell it for more than what I paid to another collector.”

“So what is it, then?” David peered down at the old book. The front cover had a series of archaic runes upon it, difficult to read. “It looks rather, ‘occultist,’ should I say?”

“If it’ll shut you up,” Rayne clapped the book shut. “It’s an old text on demons. The oldest I could find that still qualifies as being in English.”

“Since when did you have any interest in the supernatural?”

“I’ve dabbled.”

“No you haven’t. You’re always going on about staying grounded, not losing yourself to childish fantasies. You never let yourself for even one instant give in to your imagination!” David paused, and a slight smile spread over his face. “Or could it be? Coming so close to death, you’ve re-evaluated your life? Decided there’s some merit in the imagination?”

“Maybe.”

“Try not to lose yourself. And no more spending ridiculous amounts of money on books like this.”

“Don’t worry. I don’t think it’s possible for me to become more lost than I already am.”

David looked a little concerned, but he excused himself to the study, leaving Rayne alone with the book. He had to turn the yellowed pages very carefully. He placed the book on the coffee table, leaning forward in his seat to read. The archaic runes inscribed within barely resembled recognizable words, and he couldn’t understand much of it. Crude pictures scribbled with ink in the margins depicted stylized caricatures of various monsters. A smile crossed Rayne’s face as he recognized many, for they indeed resembled the monsters he’d already seen within the Abyss. He saw the strange flying creatures with oily black tears, the hulking stone-like men with the featureless faces, dragging long metal chains in their arms. This was the book he needed, the information here must have been written by someone who had seen what he had. He just wished he could read the language.

Flipping past more pages he also saw drawings of demons he had not yet seen within the Abyss. The pages didn’t have any order to them, no ranking of strength, or grouping by realm. Alphabetical maybe, he couldn’t tell. He noticed one etching of a familiar shadowy figure, skeletal, with black horns and bladed hands. At the top of the page, Rayne made out the word “
rípere
,” but he couldn’t be sure with the faded text. He skimmed over the sentences.

“
Gadraþ sáwol
?” he muttered, seeking some words that were clearer, or at least readable. “
Heaðufýr
and
brynstān
. Sounds like some kind of fire? Brimstone?” He did not recall Darrigan having much to do with fire, but then, he did seem to be made of smoke.

He turned another page and his heart froze. Another etching, this time of a snake with many heads. The simple drawing stirred up memories of the creature that had plagued him from the mist. The drawing even depicted it with tiny people being devoured by its mouths, driving home the enormity of the monster. His eyes went to the top of the page, looking for some kind of name.

“Something
Babil-im
?
Mušgallû
? Is that a name? Or just a word?
Babil.
I
s that like Babel?” Rayne wasn’t sure if this was a name, or a title. He turned to the next page.

His eyes passed over the exact entry he’d been seeking. A black mass, with three great eyes, slit pupils, and trees drawn jutting from its back. The beast’s name was illegible, but it looked like it could say ‘Tomordred’ if some of the faded runes were read correctly.

“I need to understand this,” he muttered.

He pulled the book in his lap before he rolled over and knocked on the door to the study.

“What?” David called out from inside. Rayne opened the door to find him seated, reading a book on plants.

“How good is your Old English?” Rayne asked, clutching the book.

“Why would you ask me that?”

“This book’s a bit troublesome.”

“Let me see.” David approached Rayne and plucked the text from his hands, taking care to open it, well aware it was not cheap. “This is certainly archaic. Anglo-Saxon, perhaps?”

“I think so. The man who sold it to me said it was transcribed around 1852 from old parchments dating back to the 8
th
century.”

“He couldn’t tell you what it said?”

“No, he said he inherited it from his grandfather. He kept it as a curiosity, but had to sell it to pay bills.”

“Well,” David continued to flip through the pages. “There’s a fellow I work with who fancies old English history. He may know someone who can read this. Are you looking to have the entire book translated?”

“Not at the moment. There’s just one entry I’d like to be able to read.” Rayne pulled the book away from David, and pointed out the section on Tomordred.

“That black mountain thing?”

Rayne nodded. David had no reason to care about any of this, but it meant life and death to him.