Shadow eater, p.15
Shadow Eater, page 15
part #2 of Shadowlands Series
He shuddered. The fact that the hammering had stopped made him hesitate. He hadn’t heard the door open. It hadn’t been locked, so maybe the imp had calmed down and simply opened it.
Clay pulled the door open slowly. He’d cut across. Putting distance between himself and the stairway with the possibility of a crazy creature in it worked well for him.
Boom!
More glass rained down on him. He darted through the door and into a corridor. Wind howled at his back as he leaned against the metal door, catching his breath.
“Oh,” said a man dressed in white. He was brown-haired and looking scared—the first trace of emotion any of these people had displayed. It actually surprised Clay to see it.
“What are you doing down here?” the man said. “You’re the human on the dragon.”
“There was an imp,” Clay said.
“In the building?”
“Yes.”
“The bats are a distraction.”
Clay noticed the man was carrying a bag.
“What’s in the bag?”
“My work,” the man said. “We have to get out of the tower, human.”
“I agree. But how?”
Boom!
“Not again!” the man cried.
“How are they doing this?” Clay said. “It’s almost as if they’re being controlled.”
“That’s because they are. The Prince’s pets, his ears in the darkness. It was only a matter of time before he grew bold enough to attack Saul. We have something the collector wants. Come on. Follow me.”
“Where to?” Guilt nibbled at Clay. He had been running, trying to save himself and Pearl while these people were being attacked.
Not your fight…
They helped me…
Not your fight…
“We need to get to the southern side of The Hammer,” he said. “We can use the emergency ladder. The shaft on the northern side has been destroyed. That would have been the best form of escape—just shoot down it to safety.”
The man took point.
“The ladder was where I was heading to when you came through that door,” he added. “It will be precarious in the extreme.”
With hurried steps, Clay followed.
Boom!
“How dangerous is it?”
“Well, it’s raining, and the ladders are on the outside.”
“Ladders,” Clay said.
“Indeed.”
“Don’t you have wings?”
“No, unfortunately. Not all of us Saularians have that feature. Don’t slow down.”
“I won’t.”
“Where is everyone else? Couldn’t someone with wings have helped?”
“I was the only one working on the upper floors today. There has been no formal evacuation process either. Bats attacking The Hammer is unprecedented. You cannot comprehend the damage that will have been done. The guardians need to focus their attentions on eliminating the threat. Almost there.”
They weaved through corridors, crossing through a huge room with an enormous table into a smaller room with a hatch.
“If imps have breached The Hammer, we have to get out. They’re not the way they used to be.”
Rather than ask what that meant, Clay kept his mouth shut and let the guy do what he had to. He put the bag down and pulled the crank on the hatch, reminding Clay of the one back in Shelter—in the Eye—where Ash and the other Reapers would go out to keep their little world ticking along.
With a clunk, it opened, letting the wind rush in.
“Follow my lead,” the guy called over the howling. “Take it one rung at a time, don’t rush or be stupid. You will be okay.”
Clay nodded. He didn’t know the man’s name, but he was so grateful for his presence. Once safe, he’d ask him what it was.
“Ready?” the guy said.
“Yes,” Clay said.
“Okay.”
The man hooked his bag around him, locking several straps around his shoulders and waist. Good to go, he slid out of the hatch, taking hold of the silver ladder.
“Remember, one rung at a time.” He started to make his way down.
One rung at a time. Clay nodded.
He took a deep breath. He could do this. Yes, he was unbelievably high, and would be pounded by wind and rain, vulnerable in the extreme, but he could do this.
He would do this.
One rung at a time…
Before he could get moving, the man screamed.
Clay looked on in horror as two imps stabbed at the guy with their pointy weapons in one hand, the other gripping the ladder.
“No!” Clay roared.
Wood pierced the man’s calves and thighs. Stab after stab, blood pouring. The imps shuffled higher, safe from the injured guy kicking out at them.
“Give me your hand,” Clay said. He was on his belly, reaching down. “I’ll pull you back in!”
A stab in the man’s lower back made him bellow, one hand slipping from the rung.
“No! Fuck you! Leave him alone!”
Shitshitshitshitshitshit!
The imps giggled and it made Clay’s blood run cold.
“Come on,” Clay said. He looked down into pain-laced blue eyes. “Get that other hand back up and reach for me. You can do this! You can do this!”
He had to get that hand up. The man was already slipping on the wet metal. There was no way he could hold his weight with one hand. Clay stretched down, just out of reach.
“You have to swing that arm up. You can do it. I know it hurts, but push through. Let me pull you back in.”
A finger nail’s distance away…
The man sucked in air between gritted teeth…
He was going to do it! Clay would save him!
“That’s it, come on. Push through the pain and swing that arm up.”
Clay stretched some more. He was as far as he could go without falling out of the hatch. His fingertips grazed the guy’s knuckles.
“Come on!”
Another giggle and the pointed stick drove into the man’s back again.
He roared in agony and slipped from the ladder.
“NO!”
The man plummeted with the rain to his death.
“No…!”
The imps giggled and their attentions locked on to Clay.
They smiled, showing off rows of razors jutting from their gums.
“Fly, fly,” they said together. “Fly, fly, you too.”
Clay shuffled back over the ledge and scrambled to his feet. The imps giggled. Before he could slam the hatch, one popped up, jabbing at him with its stick.
Clay drove a kick into its face, hoping it would fall, but imp number two arrested his fall.
Clay ran back through the huge room, the imps hot on his heels, giggling madly.
“Run, run, run!”
“Stabby stab stab!”
He made a right…
Another imp at the end of the corridor halted him.
“There you are!” A manic giggle.
The imp from earlier…
The grey-skinned creature had drool leaking from its mouth. “Gonna get you.”
It threw its pointed stick. Clay hit the floor and the weapon bounced off the wall above him, landing beside him with a clatter. He grabbed it and ran with the giggles close behind.
He went left and right, having no clue where he was going. His chest was tight, blood pounding in his ears. He couldn’t breathe, his lungs an inferno.
I’m screwed!
The corridor ended at a set of double doors. Clay picked up his pace.
Please be unlocked…
A pointed stick whizzed by, skimming his right ear. He yelped and staggered, almost falling on his face. But he kept on, regaining his footing, and pushing his legs harder.
“Stabby stab stab!”
He crashed through the doors with his shoulder and skid to a halt. The room was the end of the line. No other doorways, just a window ahead of him. His shoulder exploded with pain. He spun around, pointed stick up, hand trembling.
The imps came dancing into the room. They acted so damn jolly, one even did a cartwheel.
“Fuck off! Just fuck off!”
“No more run-run for you!”
“Dead, dead, dead!”
“What do you want?” Clay said. He backed up against the window.
They stopped dancing.
“Want freedom from the undoing.”
“Want Saul.”
“Will take the honey.”
“Will have.”
“Will kill all to have it.”
“Won’t be denied.”
Clay couldn’t differentiate between the voices.
“You not one of them.”
“Human…”
“HUMAN!”
A shriek of laughter.
“Human, human, human, stuck in this land.”
“You want the honey?”
“Humans coming for the honey?”
“Will not have.”
“Our master will reward us with life.”
“Apricot bees not for the humans.”
What the heck were apricot bees?
“Leave me alone,” Clay said.
The imps drew closer.
“Leave me alone,” they mocked.
“Human is scared.”
“Piss your pants.”
“Go on, piss your pants.”
“Pissy pants human!”
“Piss, piss, piss!”
“Scared little pissy pants.”
The dancing started up again.
“Going to smash The Hammer, going to take it all. Going to have the honey and fuck you all!”
He was so trapped, so not getting out of this one.
“Time for human to die.”
“Take down the human, take him down!”
An imp was on him, driving its stick into his leg.
Clay roared and fell to his knees, blood spurting from the wound.
“Kill the human!”
Another stab to his right arm. He cried out, dropping the pointed stick uselessly.
“Make it slow.”
“Hate humans!”
“Dirty humans!”
“Smelly, smelly.”
“Stab him in the eye!”
An imp grabbed by him the head and pulled it back. Another pulled open his left eye with bony fingers.
He tried fighting, but the pain from the wound in his leg was a fire he could not ignore.
“Please…”
“Human begs!”
The imp holding open his eye got close to it, inspecting it with manic glee. Clay wanted to blink, his eyes rolling around, desperate to close his lids.
“Green.”
“Looks like a pretty stone.”
“Don’t squish it after.”
“Don’t eat it.”
Mock-vomiting and giggles.
“Not human flesh.”
“Nasty.”
“Smelly and tastes bad.”
The third imp kicked him in the back.
“Hear that, pissy pants? You’re smelly!”
“Smelly, smelly, pissy pants.”
Another kick in the back…
Clay struggled some more. He was done for. The small creatures were stronger than they looked, and his wounds did him no favours.
“Don’t stab the eye. Will spoil the pretty green.”
“Carve it out.”
“Nice and slow. Don’t damage it.”
Bile surged up Clay’s throat. Not his eye, not his eye…
He dry-heaved and received a kick in the back. Heavy coughs racked his body. He was chocking and he couldn’t breathe.
Kick in the back, followed by a slap to the face. That gave him enough time to blink as the imp’s hold broke momentarily.
“Oi! Don’t do that.”
“He needed a slap!”
“I’ll slap you in a minute.”
Clay’s stricken cheek bloomed with pain.
“No, I’ll slap you.”
The imp holding his head let go.
“Stop arguing.”
Clay reached for the pointed stick.
“No, he’s rude. He needs a slap.”
“You do!”
“You do!”
“No point arguing!”
“Shut up!”
“You shut up!”
A foot drove down onto Clay’s hand as his fingers curled around the weapon. He felt the bones break.
“FUCK!” His voice burned his throat.
“Sneaky human!”
“Very sneaky!”
“Get both of pissy pants’ eyes.”
“Oh, two green balls!”
Sniggers…
He was stabbed in each thigh, and then in his sides. His bellow of pain was cut short with a sharp slap to his face, and he was held again, his eye ready to be carved out of its socket with the end of the stick. It was coming down, the sharp end poised to do its work at any moment.
His head was a thick soup in which his brain was drowning.
I’m sorry, Ash. I’m so sorry…
It all flashed before him. Her face, and Blake’s face, and the end of everything…
The forest…
The rain…
That dream. That dream…
The window at his back exploded. Glass rained down on him and the imps shrieked. They let him go.
“IMPS!”
It was Jiva.
The imps hissed and shrieked. One closest to him hurled its stick, and then exploded in a flurry of grey flesh and gold light.
The wooziness was taking hold.
Clay had more injuries from the glass. He could feel the shards in his scalp, on the back of his neck.
A sea of darkness was waiting to take him.
I’m so sorry, Ash…
Unconsciousness pulled him under.
ASH
Daemon and I took cover from the dragon under an outcrop of rock in a small recess that could loosely be called a cave.
“Has it gone?”
Daemon nodded. “But it will be back. I think it spotted us.”
“So why hasn’t it landed?”
“I don’t know.”
My arm throbbed and I rubbed it, wincing as I touched a sore spot.
“What is it?”
I held up my arm and found a small nick covered in dried blood. “Nothing, just a cut. Must have been from the damn mirror in Enchansa.”
Daemon turned his attention back to the cave entrance. “Stay here. I’ll be back.”
I opened my mouth to protest, but he was already gone.
As I waited I told myself he was faster on his own, better off if he didn’t have me to watch out for, but all these thoughts did was make me feel like dead weight on my own mission.
I thought being a Reaper had made me tough, but who was I kidding? I’d never had to fight my way out of a situation, not physically, not really. My strength had always been my wit and smart mouth, both of which were useless to me against dragons.
Long minutes ticked by. Where was he? What if he’s been eaten? Burned to cinder? What if he wasn’t coming back?
“Get on my back.”
I jumped at the sound of his voice and didn’t wait for another invitation. The look on his face, full on determination, told me he’d found what we were looking for.
“Keep your head down.”
We were moving, leaping. I was trying not to scream, and then we were falling, stopping, falling some more, stopping, and falling again until we landed with a soft thump and a muttered curse from Daemon.
I scrambled off his back, but Daemon remained crouched.
“You okay?” I touched his shoulder and he shook his head.
“My leg.”
I knelt beside him to examine his leg. It looked fine, but then the damage was probably internal. Maybe a strain?
So he wasn’t invincible after all. I tucked my shoulder under his armpit and lifted. “Here, can you stand? Use me as a crutch. Mother knows I’m the right height for it.”
That low rumble again made the answering heat bloom in my chest at having made him laugh.
We studied our surroundings and I almost dropped Daemon’s arm. The cavern was huge, spreading out into the shadows like a never-ending ink blot. I looked up to see the aperture far above, little more than the size of a dinner plate.
Had we fallen that far?
We stood in the shaft of light slanting through the aperture with nothing but shadows and the unknown around us.
“Come on, let’s check this place out.” I supported as much of Daemon’s weight as possible as we moved out of the light.
“I’ll be fine in a moment,” Daemon said. “I heal fast.”
“Good, ‘cos you’re bleedin’ heavy.” I let out an exaggerated huff to cover my nerves, to cover the fact that I was desperately scanning the cavern for signs of life.
Signs of Clay.
My eyes adjusted to the gloom as best they could, but as we progressed the gloom began to recede a little, until up ahead I spotted two orbs of light.
Daemon stopped. “I can walk now.”
I ducked out from under him, eager to move forward.
He grabbed my arm. “Wait. Let me go first.”
I wanted to argue, but I wasn’t stupid, so I let him lead the way.
The orbs came into focus; two wall sconces set on either side of the vast cavern and, in between them, a neat pile of bones all white and picked free of any flesh or blood.
“Someone should really take out their rubbish,” I said around the tightening in my throat.
Please don’t be in there, please don’t be in there.
Daemon cocked his head and then ushered me to the other side of the bones, into the shadows again. A moment later the beat of wings echoed throughout the cavern and a gust of wind blew dust into my face. I shuffled back and Daemon grabbed me, pulling me to him.
“Don’t make a sound,” he hissed in my ear.
I nodded, my eyes on the beast that’d just landed. Oh my, what big eyes you have, and what big... Fuck! Was that a person in its mouth?
The dragon tossed the body up into the air and then caught it on the drop with a sickening crunch before laying down to properly chew up its meal.
I didn’t want to look, my stomach was churning up bile ready for a proper gag fest, but my stupid eyes were stuck to the scene like flies to flypaper.
