The Last Summoning---Andrew and the Quest of Orion's Belt (Book Four) (41 page)

Andrew turned around expecting the hideous
trees to bear down on him. But the dead trees remained as they
were, dead. The holes where their red eyes had been were charred
and blackened like they had housed burning embers that had been
blown out.

“You did it!” Andrew was hit from behind, and
pulled into a warm embrace by Freddie and Ivory.

“You did it, Andrew,” Ivory breathed. “You
killed the Barnacle. How did you know what to do?”

Andrew gazed at the smooth lake of ice the
Barnacle had created on the ground, and shook his head. Andrew’s
face glittered with the frost the Barnacle had breathed over him,
but a hint of a smile shone beneath his cold skin. He looked at
Freddie, and Ivory purely astonished himself. “A voice…” was all he
could say. Yes. A voice. A pure undiluted voice of truth had
reached him in this cold, dark land.

All was not lost as he had first
supposed.

The Fractured Mountains

Andrew stared above him at the outlines of the
Fractured Mountains silhouetted against the sky like shards of
jagged glass. The ridges rose high into the sky as if trying to
grasp the heavens and pull them down. Their uneven, proud peaks
shimmered as if mocking those below their lofty spires, who were
trudging through the dirty snow.

The wind had ceased, but the snow continued
to fall, covering everything in a heavy, cold, silence that froze
movement, froze sound. It silenced the whispering and shuffling of
the shadows that lingered in the cracks and behind the rocks,
watching like stiff sheets much too cold to move.

The road through the pass was utterly
forsaken. Not a soul lingered there. It was as if the mountain was
guardian enough, watching like a towering garrison of soldiers,
ready to throw down rocks at any moment, and crush the travelers
below.

Andrew paused before veering down a side road
that cut through the mountains. Ivory and Freddie stood behind him,
watching as Croffin came in from the rear, his fluffy skunk’s tail
bobbing up and down in the snow, his body hidden in one of their
many footprints.

“What are you doing?” Croffin gasped, bumping
into Freddie’s leg. “Why are we stopping?”

“We’re changing roads,” Andrew said, forging
ahead through the snow. “This path should be safer.”

Croffin peered above the snow, his one eye
blinking back bits of snow that had fallen into it. “Ugg. Some
path.”

Andrew nodded. “Yes. But we’ll be less
visible here.”

“Yeah,” Croffin’s muffled voice rose beneath
the snow, his entire body invisible in the footprint. “I know.”

They slowly moved through the snow, down
byroads, and up steep slopes, over treacherous terrain covered in
sharp rocks and black glassy bits of sand that had been heated at
high temperatures.

Gradually, they left the Fractured Mountains
far behind them. All that the mountains had hidden from view was
now theirs to behold. Hills and sunken valleys saturated in steam
and ice spread out before them, heaped with miles of coal piled,
like black anthills. On a tall mound of coal they stopped. They
looked out over the land. From their position they could see the
vast realm of The Fallen reaching far out in every direction,
covered in ice, snow and smoldering pits, belching wafts of black
steam.

The towering outline of The Shadelock castle
glowed like a silver star against the gray sky. The lands
surrounding it lay under a layer of smoke and steam, half hidden,
and half seen, in a continually drowsy-looking state.

The land was a strange place full of
flickering lights and darting shadows. It was hot and cold, light
and dark, wet and dry, dirty and clean, stinky and sweet smelling.
It was all mixed together making everything dank, lukewarm, yet
chilly, and uncomfortable. Shadows were in abundant supply. They
lingered everywhere, reaching out, whispering. Like schools of
hungry fishes they darted over the land, restless and tormented,
always searching for something they could never have or be.

What horrors lay hidden under the smog and
steam? Andrew wondered. What uncertain fate did this land hold for
him here? He half smiled to himself, remembering Drust, the man who
kept footprints like a librarian keeps books. Had Drust seen
Andrew’s footsteps into this dark place?

Andrew slowly made his way down a steep pile
of coal to the edge of a steaming, bubbling pit below, where
shadows coiled and weaved over it, surging up from each tar-like
bubble, unfolding like a butterfly released from its cocoon,
birthed and breathed to life by the oil bubbling below.

“Be careful,” Andrew warned, slowly making
his way around the edge of the pit. He peered over the edge and
grimaced. A black, oily liquid bubbled below him, sending up a
toxic steam that smelled of tar, and rotting carcasses.

Concourses of shadows hovered over the pit
hissing and howling, disturbed by Andrew. They scattered like a
school of fish, twisting and turning, reaching and grabbing, trying
to pull the travelers into the pit. Ivory screamed as one grabbed
her arm, and yanked her towards the steaming pit.

“Ivory!” Andrew cried, catching hold of her
arm, and pulling her back to safety. “I’ve got you.”

“Thank you,” Ivory shivered, clutching Andrew
like a small child.

A loud throaty roar sounded from within the
hole, sending a huge cloud of smoke, shadows, and steam billowing
up. The Shadows hissed and howled, dispersing like dozens of
frightened crows. The ground trembled as a huge oily shadow was
belched from the pit. The figure rose from the pit, unfolded a
shadow of a dragon, given form only from the oil that dripped from
its body, like a ghost doused with black ink. Its face was horned.
Spikes rose out of every inch of its body, all different lengths,
all dripping with oil, and steaming with heat. Its eyes were red.
Its mouth gave off an orange steam. It had huge, oily, winged arms
that dripped with grease. A thunderous shriek sounded as the
creature dug its claws into the side of the pit and opened its
gaping mouth, spewing a cloud of orange sparks into the air.

“Run!” Andrew cried, standing in front of his
friends. “Run!”

But his friends dared not move. They stood
where they were, petrified by fear.

Andrew drew his sword, and stood at the edge
of the pit, facing the demon. The sword’s light was dim. It felt
strangely ordinary, like any other sword. Yet he knew there was
still power in it. Ivory, he, Freddie, and even Croffin were with
him. Their strong, true hearts were far more powerful than a dozen
luke-warm souls.

The great half-embodied shadow spit and
snapped, crawling up over the edge of the pit towards Andrew,
sending heat and oil spraying through the air. Andrew slashed his
sword at the creature, swiping it across the nose. It cried out,
coming back at him with heated vengeance. It lifted its oily wings
and heaved its heavy body into the air, dripping oil that smelled
of darkness, all over Andrew.

A sickening feeling of vulnerability washed
over Andrew. The beast was not afraid of him. It was unafraid of
his sword. Billows of smoke started rising from its mouth and nose.
Its eyes burned inside its shadowy form, full of an all-consuming
hunger. It opened its mouth sending a spray of shadow and oil over
Andrew.

“Ahhh!” Andrew cried, teetering over the edge
of the pit, with his friends, hiding his face from the onslaught of
oil.

The creature rose up into the air, scooping
up hosts of squirming shadows into his huge mouth, growing bigger
and bigger with each gulp, so that the sky was completely shrouded
in its own shadow.

Andrew felt very small before this sheet of
darkness. Fear, subtle and deep, pricked him like a powerful frost,
eclipsing the courage he wished he had. The sword’s light was no
match for the covering of darkness that loomed over him.

“Ahhhhkkkk!” The creature cried, thumping its
wings against one another in an earth-shattering crack. The sound
was so loud, and powerful, it sent Andrew and his friends tumbling
into the bubbling pit of oil.

Oil, thick, and hot swirled around Andrew. It
bubbled up around him, pulling him down. He struggled against the
sticky liquid, looking around for his friends. He could see,
Freddie and Croffin clutching onto the side of the pit. But Ivory
had vanished. “Ivory!” he cried, gagging on the bitter tasting oil.
“Ivory!”

“Andrew,” Ivory cried, bursting up from the
oil. “I can’t swim here. It’s pulling me down. Help!”

Andrew grabbed Ivory, and struggled to keep
her afloat.

“It’s going to burn us alive!” Croffin
shrieked, pointing above them at the shadow twisting and churning
over the pit of like a boiling cyclone that was putting out feelers
towards earth.

“Down! Down Labyrinth,” a powerful voice
above them suddenly commanded. “LABYRIINTH! OBEY ME!”

The winged beast howled, belching out embers
of half-consumed shadows, then reluctantly settled itself on the
edge of the pit, peering at them with fiery eyes.

The sound of scuffling feet and labored,
wheezy breathing was heard as dozens of dark forms stared down at
them.

“Help us,” Andrew called, “Please!”

Loud, chopping cackles echoed above them.
“ka, ha, ha, kac, cah, ha!”

“Labyrinth,” one of the creatures then said,
“You heard them. They need help.”

In a single moment, a loud rushing sound
crashed in around them as the winged creature coughed out a great
shower of recycled shadows that had been turned to coal. The coal
fell into the pit covering Andrew and his friends in layers of the
dark matter.

For a moment Andrew thought he’d been
suffocated. All went utterly black. He reached out, struggling
against the oil, and coal. He grasped onto the hard rock-like
lumps, pulling both himself, and Ivory up through the coal, now
mixed together with oil. Gradually, they worked their way through
the coal, and lay on top of their would-be grave, gulping in air.
Andrew could feel the oil, and coal sticking to his skin as if he
had become a shadow himself.

“Freddie? Croffin?” Andrew called out,
clambering through the pit of coal. “Where are you?”

“Over here,” Freddie wheezed. “We’re…both
okay. I guess.” “Good!” A loud, snapping voice called above them.
“We want the boy alive!”

Andrew stared above him. Looming around the
pit were the most curious-looking creatures. The figures were tall
and strong. Their faces, though in shadow, were illuminated by
their dark skin that glowed a somber gray-blue. They had long,
black stripes across their faces, like iron bars fencing their
faces in. The whites of their eyes glowed brilliant silver, through
unblinking eyes that never closed.

“Labyrinth, good boy,” one of the tall
figures said, patting the oily, winged creature on its nose. “Good
boy. You have done very well today.” The being’s voice scraped out
like a knife, sharp and jagged. Then turning its eyes to the
figures in the pit, the being leaned over the edge, and studied
Andrew and his friends with unblinking eyes. “Thought you could
travel here unseen, unmarked? Thought you could just walk into our
realm unnoticed? Oh, foolish brats, how little you know. Ha, ka,
cah, cah! Here, nothing goes undetected. Oh, my master will be
pleased, very pleased.” It breathed in and out, excitedly, its
throat ridden with phlegm.

“Tell your master he must come and get us
himself!” Andrew shouted back.

The creature stared at Andrew, unmoving. Its
wide eyes glowed out at him like two trapped beams of light. “Us?
Our master wants only one of you,” the creature growled. “Just the
boy with the diamond mark in his hands. Just him. Just him. The
rest will go free, free! Give him to us. GIVE HIM TO US! We are the
Codes. We are the Codes and we know all. We see all. We hear all.
We know you are down there. We know! If you give him to us, we will
spare the others. We will give you five minutes. Five minutes to
decide what you will do. If the boy does not surrender, then we are
coming down after you to kill all who do not match the description.
It is the boy we want. The boy!”

Andrew set his jaw, and pulled himself up,
brushing off bits of coal that stuck to his skin. He glanced at his
friends lying weak and miserable on the coal. Their bodies were
black, and their skin coated in coal and oil. Croffin’s oil-stained
fur made him look like a bedraggled rat. They were in no condition
to fight.

He had to go. It was time. He stepped in
front of his friends, but Freddie placed his hand on Andrew to stop
him.

“Wait, Andrew,” Freddie whispered, pointing
to the creature Codes above them. “You mustn’t. Not like this.”

Andrew pushed passed Freddie. “Why mustn’t
I?”

Freddie grabbed Andrew and pulled him back.
“Stop. You’re not thinking clearly.

Andrew shook his head. “No. Freddie. You
don’t understand. This is what I should have done a long time
ago.”

Freddie moved in front of Andrew. “No.
Andrew. I can’t let you go.”

“Then, what else are we to do?”

“Let them take me?”

“What?” Andrew’s eyes filled with fire. “Are
you out of your mind?”

“No, Andrew, I’m not.”

“But they want me, not you.”

Freddie’s face filled with noble defiance. He
opened his palms, and looked up at Andrew. A subtle smile appeared
on his face. Etched into his greasy palms were the scars he had
acquired from saving Andrew from falling to his death on the Towers
of the Floating City. The scars burned into his palms were
identical to the diamond marks in Andrew’s hands. The only
difference was that they were not as smooth, and they did not glow
or shimmer.

Darkness flooded Andrew’s eyes. He stepped
away from Freddie, and shook his head. “No! Freddie,” he hissed. “I
won’t let you do it. They are just scars. They’ll never buy it.
Especially since you don’t have the sword. ”