“What trickery is this, little magus?”
Groaning, Levi stumbled to his feet. Blood ran from both of his arms as well as his back, chest and face. He’d broken the index finger of his right hand, and he was pretty sure that his right wrist was sprained, too. The flesh was already beginning to swell, and the pain made him nauseous.
“No trickery. I promised you that I wouldn’t harm you in Esther’s place, and I have honored my word. I have brought you elsewhere.”
“You speak in riddles.”
“No, I don’t. Welcome to your new home, gentlemen.”
They turned on him, growling. Their elongated talons had shrunk back into their fingers, and their clothes and faces weren’t so dark anymore.
“Don’t bother trying to shape-shift,” Levi continued. “You can’t anymore. In fact, if I’m correct—and I suspect that I am—you’ll find that you’re all quite powerless here.”
“Meeble’s strength follows us wherever we go. It is within us.”
“Back on Earth, perhaps, but not here. Not in this place. You see, this is not your master’s domain.”
Grunting, the tallest of the five made a dismissive gesture with his hand and pulled himself up to his full height. “After all your boasts, you have merely delayed the inevitable, Levi, son of Amos. You may be able to walk the paths of the Labyrinth, but bringing us here will not save you. What do my brothers and I care for worlds? We will lay waste to this one, just as we laid waste to your own. This world’s populace shall know of our master’s power, and we will feed here just as well.”
“Go ahead, then. Leave your mark. Carve
Croatoan
in the trunk of one of those great mushrooms. Carve your master’s name here, in the domain of Behemoth!”
They gaped at him. The fear on their faces was palpable, and Levi couldn’t help but laugh. After all of the terror they’d caused the people of Brinkley Springs, not to mention countless other human beings going all the way back to the original Roanoke settlement, it felt good to see them scared and to know that he was the source of their fear. He forced himself to ignore the twinge of pride.
“I see by your expressions that you understand now. That’s correct. We stand beneath the noxious skies of Yuggoth, home of Behemoth, the Great Worm and one of the Thirteen, who is the equal of your master.”
“You lie.”
Levi shook his head. “You know that I don’t. According to the Law, you are forbidden to do your working here, lest you risk a war between the Great Worm and your master—a conflict which would ultimately anger He Who Shall Not Be Named. I don’t think Meeble would appreciate such insolence.”
His opponents began to tremble. Whether from fear or rage, Levi couldn’t be certain. Perhaps both. Either way, they were still dangerous, even without their powers.
“Open the door,” the shortest one said. “Return us to our world and we will let you live. On this you have our word.”
Levi shook his head. “Not a chance.”
“Then you have doomed yourself, as well, little magus.” The tallest of the five stepped closer. “If you know of Yuggoth, then you know what grows here. Even as we speak, you are breathing the poisoned spores into your lungs. You are inhaling Behemoth’s seeds. They will take root in your body and begin to grow, ultimately transforming you—if the wounds we inflicted do not kill you first.”
“I’ve had worse,” Levi bluffed. In truth, his legs felt wobbly and he was growing weaker with every moment. He needed to stop the bleeding and attend to his injuries. His wrist continued to swell, and the skin around it felt hot to the touch and had turned an angry shade of red. His finger, bent and swollen, throbbed painfully with each beat of his heart. He took a deep breath. The air was sweltering and thick, and coated his tongue. Levi grimaced. It was like breathing hot soup. He smacked his lips and tasted mildew in the back of his throat.
“This will be the end of you, bearded one.”
“Perhaps,” Levi said, “but I’d rather succumb to the white fuzz than return you to my world. Better to turn into a mushroom than to allow you to continue your work.”
As he talked, Levi pressed his left hand to the wound on his chest. It was bleeding profusely. He cupped his palm and his hand filled with warmth.
“Open the door,” the shortest one repeated. This time, his voice had a pleading tone. “We promise to return to our place of rest and bother you and those under your protection no more. Again, you have our word.”
“And what of next time?” Levi asked. “What happens when you come out of hibernation and murder another town? What about all the others you’ll kill? No, I’ll not have that on my conscience. There’s enough blood on my hands.”
“Dead men don’t have consciences.” The revenant who said this glanced at his brothers and laughed.
Blood dripped through Levi’s fingers. “I’m not dead yet.”
“Then let us rectify that,” the tall one said. “Powerless or not, there are five of us and one of you. You are outnumbered and you are wounded.”
They moved toward him in a half circle. The two on the ends tried to flank him on either side. Levi flung a fistful of his blood at the one on the left, spattering his face and clothing.
“By His blood I bind thee. By His blood I command thee. By His blood, which was shed for me, do I trod on thee.”
Shrieking, the dark man recoiled, clawing at his face. Smoke rose from his clothing and skin. He collapsed to the ground and lay writhing and kicking as the smoke grew thicker.
“The power and the glory forever, amen.”
The others hesitated, glancing down at their brother in confusion and panic. Levi cupped his hand to his breast and gathered more of his blood.
“Now there are four of you,” he said. “Did I mention that without your abilities, my powwow works on you?”
They charged him all at once, rushing forward. Levi splashed a fistful of blood in the face of the closest attacker. The dark figure reeled backward. The other three slammed into Levi, pushing him to the ground. He struck the surface hard, yelping as his wounds were opened afresh. The ground itself yielded, seeming to suck him deeper. A flurry of blows rained down upon him. Their fists battered his face and chest. A punch to his stomach forced the air from his lungs. He gasped, breathing in more of the noxious, musty air and tasting mildew and blood. His stomach lurched. The pounding continued. Levi closed his bruised and swelling eyes and exhaled.
“He loses consciousness already, brothers.”
“He does, indeed. Stay awake, little magus.”
“We have only just started with you. We do not need our powers to rend the flesh from your bones or show you your insides. We can do it with our bare hands.”
Levi ignored the rough, chattering voices and focused on himself. The pain faded until he no longer felt the blows and punches, even though they continued to fall upon him. He could no longer hear his attackers, no longer feel their crushing weight. Gone, too, was the cloying, potent stench of the planet’s atmosphere and the wet, slimy touch of the ground. There was only Levi, floating above himself. He looked down at his body, watched with a sense of detachment as one of his attackers wrapped their hands around his throat and squeezed. Summoning all of his strength, Levi found his center and then returned to his body.
He forced what little air remained in his lungs through his nose and simultaneously pushed with his mind. His shoulders stiffened and his body trembled as he shoved harder, visualizing his will as a physical bludgeon. Then his eyes snapped open and all three of his attackers were shoved backward as if they’d been struck. They flew through the air like rag dolls, soaring away from him before ultimately slamming into the fibrous, fungal surface.
Levi struggled to sit up. Each movement was agony. One of his eyes had swollen completely shut and the other was only a slit. He strained, trying to find the spot where the doorway had been. If he couldn’t find it, he’d be trapped here with them. His opponents would never let him live long enough to open a second passage. Wincing, he turned his head. The three attackers lay still, apparently stunned by the force of his psychic defense. The other two—the ones he’d splashed with blood—were now just smoking piles of ash. He wondered where their spirits had gone. Here, or back to Earth, where their original bodies still lay buried?
One of the three remaining revenants twitched. Levi tried to stand up, but found that he couldn’t. The pain was too great. Resolving to try again, he bit his lip—and screamed aloud. It had been smashed and split by the beating he’d taken, but the pain helped him focus. It forced him on. Still, despite his best efforts, his body refused to obey his commands. Levi crawled forward on his hands, trailing his useless legs behind him. His feet carved shallow furrows in the ground, and his elbows made sucking sounds in the turf as he pulled himself along. Stagnant water pooled around him, welling up from below the surface. Levi was suddenly aware of being very thirsty, and for a brief moment, he considered drinking the loathsome liquid. Just a little bit, enough to quench his thirst.
“No . . .” He meant to shout it, but the utterance was barely a croak.
Whimpering, Levi focused on the terrain. He dragged himself through the ashes of his enemies, smearing them against his damp, bloody clothes, until he’d reached the spot where the door should be. The wind howled, racing across the gray-white plain. Levi raised one trembling hand and almost blacked out. His vision wavered. His ears roared. He forced himself to take another deep breath, inhaling more of the sickening air. It felt gritty, as if he’d breathed in sandpaper. The sensation passed, and his vision returned. Levi raised his hand again, stretching one quivering arm forward. When his broken finger brushed against the invisible door, he moaned. The crooked digit throbbed. His vision blurred again, and this time, it did not clear.
Running footsteps squelched behind him. Levi rolled over just as the tallest of the revenants flung itself at him. The attacker landed next to him, face first in the terrain. When he lifted his head, his cheeks and chin were covered with white fungus. Snarling, he bared his teeth. Despite his pain and delirium, Levi noticed how yellow they were now. They looked old and brittle, not at all the shining white fangs that had glinted in the darkness of Brinkley Springs.
Levi made a fist, grabbing a handful of the damp soil, and flung it into the dark man’s face. Then, using the last of his physical strength, he crawled forward and plunged both his middle finger and his broken index finger into the revenant’s eyes. There was a brief moment of resistance, as if he were pressing against a balloon, and then it vanished. His fingers slid into the sockets with ease. Jellied pulp squirted out around his knuckles. The revenant screamed.
“That’s it,” Levi whispered. “Scream. It’s better when you scream.”
His opponent shuddered and then lay still. Levi pulled his fingers from the ruined sockets and glanced over at the other two. Both were beginning to stir. The roaring grew louder in his ears and his vision blurred a third time. He tried reaching for the door again but for some reason, his arms no longer wanted to work. Like his legs, they had ultimately betrayed him.
He collapsed onto the spongy ground and stared through one slit at the empty space in front of him.
“Your will be done, Lord. On Yuggoth, as it is in Heaven.”
And then, a dark crack appeared in the air. Dim candlelight flickered inside of it. Levi heard voices— Randy’s and Marsha’s, followed a moment later by Donny’s.
“He said not to break the circle.” Donny sounded frantic.
“But he’s gone,” Randy said. “Let’s look in the pantry. Maybe he went back through that . . . other place, again.”
The crack grew wider. Moaning, Levi crawled toward it. Marsha and Randy stood in the doorway, gasping in surprise at the vista spread out before them.
“Don’t breathe,” Levi gasped. “Get back and don’t breathe it in.”
He heaved himself through the open door and tumbled onto Esther’s kitchen floor. The linoleum felt cool beneath his skin. Randy, Marsha and Donny hovered over him, their expressions concerned and alarmed.