Valkeryn 2: The Dark Lands (39 page)

She fired again and again, Teacher slowly walking forward, taking each of the hammer blows to his body, knowing he would be hurt, but not killed, by the small caliber weapon. Briggs changed her aim, this time bringing the barrel up to sight at the single long lens over his eyes. Her fingers tightened.

The effect on the Colonel of the howling scream from the parapets at the moment the old witch died was like a short circuit. Blood and clear fluid gushed from her nose, and her eyes flickered between milky white and blue. Briggs’ face screwed up tight as if she wrestled with something monstrous. Her teeth came together, and her jaws clenched tight for several seconds, and her body shuddered as if being electrocuted.

She stopped and her eyes focused on him for a moment – blue, aware, but still full of a hellish torment.

‘Teacher… can’t… stop it.’

‘Colonel?’ Teacher rushed towards her.

Colonel Marion Briggs let out an unearthly howl matching that of Mogahrrs, and brought the gun up to her head. She pulled the trigger.

*

They fought on, the hours passing. The blood made the ground a red stew of dirt, littered with broken armor and crushed bodies. Arn found himself standing alone, and he surveyed the battlefield. The Panterran had long fled, but the Lygon were fighting to the death. In another time, the great beasts might have been allies, if they had stepped back from their bloodlust and kinship with the hateful Panterran. Arn guessed that some creatures that Fenrir had brought forth from the fire needed more time to grow, and perhaps… evolve.

Arn felt the skin on his face tingle and crawl, and he doubled over as yet another spasm of pain wracked his body. The CL suit felt tight, tighter than it had only moments before. Another red wave of pain ran through him. He groaned and stayed bent over, feeling like he was being torn apart, or stretched by a giant from the inside out.

He retracted his suit’s head covering, releasing some of the pressure and allowing the perspiration to dry. He looked to the sky. ‘Better.’

Arn wiped his brow, sucked in air and straightened when a scream brought his head around. Eilif was being held by Sorenson – why? She fought him, the pair twisting – only then did he see the colors of the plumage trailing from the helmet – it was black. It wasn’t Sorenson. It was the dark Wolfen, Bergborr.

The former Wolfen warrior had disarmed Eilif and was dragging her along the ground, invisible amidst all the chaos of the battle.

Arn felt a fury rise within him. He didn’t recognize the sensations that his mind and body generated – such anger boiled inside him, such an animalistic fury that had never existed in him before. He leapt, running hard, sometimes even using his hands and legs together, crossing the several hundred feet in a few seconds.

He stuck Bergborr like a missile, knocking both him and Eilif to the ground. Bergborr bounced lightly to his feet, sword in his hand, still holding tight to the Princess. Bergborr roared, his face first acknowledging recognition, but then clouding with confusion as if he didn’t quite understand what he was seeing.

‘You?’ He pointed his sword at Arn, his face twisted in disgust.

‘Arn.’ The devotion in Eilif’s voice crushed the dark Wolfen’s expression down to nothing but pure hatred.

Bergborr spat the words. ‘Skinless freak, disgusting remnant of a decrepit and weak race.’ He shook Eilif, his volcanic gaze turning to her momentarily, before switching back to Arn.

‘Man-Kind, you look different… sick. Perhaps real fighting is not for the likes of you.’

Eilif struck out, and Bergborr smashed the hilt of his word down on her.

‘Stop!’ Arn held up his hand, his eyes on Eilif.

The sound of Arn’s plea made Bergborr’s face become more twisted. He turned his blade around, lifting the silver blade high. ‘If I can’t have her…’

Arn leapt, yelling words that turned into meaningless roars as he grabbed Bergborr and ripped the sword from his hand. Arn beat at the Wolfen’s armor, his strength growing with each blow. He tore away steel plates and chain mail, continuing to beat the Wolfen until he lay still.

‘Enough!’ Eilif fell against Arn, holding him. ‘It is over.’ She looked down at Bergborr’s battered body. ‘Hellheim will take him now.’ She looked up at Arn’s face. ‘He was a fool, but love can make us all foolish and blind.’

Arn held on to her for a few moments, and turned to look across to the Far Wolfen and Ursa led by Sorenson. They wandered, looking dazed, the adrenaline of the last few hours wearing off, making their muscles ache, and their bodies sag.

Teacher was crouching beside Sharp and Brown, both alive, but covered in blood from head to toe. Grimson and Balthazaar had led a small band of warriors into the castle, to clean out any remnants of Mogahrr’s followers foolish enough to try for an ambush – already the banner of the Valkeryn Wolfen flew from the parapets.

Arn turned to her. ‘Go, the castle is yours once more.’

Eilif danced on the spot and clapped for a second or two before running towards the giant gates. Arn watched her go, smiling, before his expression dissolved into a grimace. He rolled his aching shoulders, the suit once again constricting his body. Teacher was at his side, laying a hand on his shoulder and looking up at him.

‘You okay?’

Arn nodded, but felt nauseous. It was odd. He was looking down at the Delta Force leader. It seemed only days ago he had been looking him in the eye.
What has Grimson’s blood or this place done to me
, he wondered. He knew at that moment that staying might here mean the end of him or his humanity. He looked briefly down at his aching hands – there was a small rip in the CL suit fabric.
Did that happen in battle or was the suit was so tight it was beginning to split? Impossible,
he thought.

Teacher pressed a stud to retract his visor and head covering. When it was off his face, he ran his palms over his wet face.

‘We haven’t got much time. We need to leave immediately.’

Arn nodded. ‘Mogahrr’s force will be at the gateway by now. I hope Vidarr was able to get Becky and Edward to the portal, and that they, not the Lygon, make it to our home.’

Teacher shook his head. ‘No chance the Lygon will get past our Delta Force. Henson and the team will kick their ass or die trying. Let’s work on the assumption we can punch a hole right through. But you’re right; we’ll need to catch up to your friends to make sure that they get that laser acceleration diamond back home – nothing else matters – our lives and our world depend on it.’

Sorenson joined them, placing a bloody hand on Arn and Teacher’s shoulders. ‘A glorious battle; you fought well… just like Wolfen.’

‘We’re not done yet. There is another of Mogahrr’s armies, in the wasteland.’

Sorenson snorted. ‘Then we will meet them, and their bones can bleach in the desert.’ He looked out over the Far Wolfen and Ursa. ‘We need to go now. It will take time to move our troops, and the Ursa are not built for speed.’

He seemed to think for a moment. ‘There will also be Panterran there. Perhaps we can encourage them to leave without firing an arrow.’ He grinned.

Chapter 36

The Fastest Horse in the Kingdom… Now!

Balthazaar took Eilif back into the storeroom with the hidden art
efacts, and she sat on a chest with the crown of Valkeryn on her head. She had quickly washed the blood from her body and draped a thick crimson cloak over her silver armor.

She stood, catching sight of herself in the mirror. She took off the silver breastplate, and donned a lighter tunic. She stood again before the mirror, turning one way then the next. She smiled, approving of the way she looked. She spoke over her shoulder to the old Counsellor.

‘Find Arn and ask him to join me.’ Balthazaar nodded and withdrew, and she went back to admiring herself from different angles. ‘See me now, Arnoddr… and resist me not.’ She laughed softly and held a hand up over her mouth. She imagined her, no,
their
new life – her ears flushed pink and she crushed her eyes shut for a few seconds.

Balthazaar returned after only a few minutes, his face ashen. He stood wringing his hands for a moment. ‘Your Majesty, ah...’

Her smile vanished. ‘Just tell me, wise friend.’

‘It’s the Arnoddr, he…’ He cleared his throat.

Eilif suddenly felt light headed. ‘Tell me!’ Her heart raced as she turned to face him fully.

‘He’s gone.’ He said the words quickly.

Eilif froze as her emotions and thoughts tumbled over each other in her brain. She felt everything slow down around her. She didn’t understand; it didn’t make sense.

‘Stop it, you’re being silly. He’
s gone? What does that mean?’ Her heart sunk. ‘Where…  where, would he go?’ Eilif took several steps towards the Counselor, but staggered.

‘He’s gone home, your majesty. Back to his world.’

‘No, no, no…’ She shook her head, and staggered towards him, finally lurching into his arms. She felt as thouhgh she had been punched in the stomach. ‘No please, not again.’ She brought fists up beside her head, turning to look back into the mirror. Her eyes filled and she ripped the crown from her head. She spun back to Balthazaar. ‘I will not… I will
not
lose him again.’

Eilif’s ice-blue eyes were wide as she pinned the old counselor with her gaze.

‘The fastest horse in the kingdom... now!’

*

Teacher, Arn, and Sorenson rode their horses through the forest, pulling spare mounts with them. The once mighty stables of Valkeryn had been decimated. The hundreds upon hundreds of animals had been retained for little more than food, and only a few dozen remained.

They quickly caught up to Vidarr, Edward and Becky, and pulled them up onto their horses. Becky refused her own mount, claiming a fear of riding, and jumped up behind Arn instead. She clamped her arms around his waist.

‘I was going slow because I knew you’d come.’ She whispered into his ear and hugged him tighter.

Edward looked panicked as he rode, but to his credit managed a good pace. Teacher was relieved to see the red diamond still bouncing around his neck on the silver chain.

Vidarr had been given a horse, and sent back to the castle, his job done. He’d be needed to unlock and recover the rest of the secrets he had hidden from the Panterran queen.

The rest rode hard knowing that the coolness of the desert night would soon turn to a devil’s cauldron of heat once the sun rose. For now, morning was little more than a red line on the horizon. Teacher tried his communicator, praying they were within range. There was a hiss and crackle, and then the strained voice of Hanson.

‘Good to hear from you, Boss. How’s your day been?’

Teacher grinned – he knew what the elite soldier had been dealing with. ‘Pretty quiet; how’s yours?’

‘You’re still in time for the party – really hope you’ll be joining us soon.’

‘That’s the plan.’ His voice took on a serious note. ‘Prepare for immediate evac. We’ve got the diamond and the missing kids. Can you clear a path for us?’

‘Sure can. Come in dead centre, we’ll give you a fire corridor, but it’s still going to be ugly – lot of big bad bodies here all wanting to take a bite out of us.’

‘Got it, and see you soon.’

Teacher switched off and turned to Arn and Sorenson. ‘They’ll give us some cover, but we might have to fight our way up the ant hill.’

Sorenson grunted. ‘Good.’

Chapter 37

Maybe Once it was a Man.

Hanson turned to Farfelle. ‘Get down the tunnel. Go back through the portal and tell Harper we got incoming with the diamond. Make sure he’s ready; this thing has cost us a lot of blood.’ The man saluted and crawled backwards, keeping below the arrow shot.

Hanson pointed, and Bannock followed with his eyes. ‘We need to clear a corridor for Teacher – right down the middle.’

Bannock whistled. ‘To keep it open we’re going to have to go down there.’

Hanson nodded. ‘Yep. Was getting kinda boring up here anyway.’

*

Farfelle and another Delta Force soldier jogged through the cramped tunnel. The wind howled back at them, the noise drowning out the sound of dripping water, flying debris, and making it impossible to detect the tiny noises of a stealthy approach. Farfelle could see the oily smudge that indicated the tear in time and space, so large now that it completely covered one end of the tunnel. A rope flapped like a streamer in the air, one end in the dark dank tunnel, the other a million years back in a pristine chamber. It had been hung to provide assistance to those struggling to pull themselves in past the force of gravity working against them.

Farfelle turned to give his companion some last minute instructions, but before he could speak something flew out of the darkness to land on the other man’s back. Its was large, hairless and pink. Finally the sound of giggling broke in above all the other noises, its high cadence turning to a mishmash of sounds that could have been a language.

The downed soldier screamed, as long chisel-like teeth dug into the meat of his shoulder. If not for the ceramic plating the thing would have torn free a fist-sized chunk of flesh. Long claws scrabbled at his body. Farfelle drew his gun and fired several rounds into the creature, knocking it to the side.

Now free, the other soldier scurried backwards. ‘What the hell was that thing?’ He drew his own gun, sighting from the creature to the dark tunnel, and then back again.

Farfelle kept his gun trained on the body and knelt slowly beside it. He prodded it with the barrel of his gun – it didn’t move. The thing was greasy-looking, and almost transparent. The hands were five fingered, but the thumb was small, little more than a lump. The fingers themselves ended in long horn like talons – more like tools designed for digging through the deep, dark earth. 

He used his boot to turn it over. ‘Jesus Christ.’ The face was flat, and the eyes totally black. It was impossible to tell whether the orbs were sightless or just fully dark-adapted. The nose was a flap of skin and the mouth was nothing but a raw hole with huge rat like incisors. He grimaced, feeling bile rise in his throat. Farfelle couldn’t help thinking it looked like…

‘Is that a goddam man?’

Farfelle shrugged. ‘God-damned is right. Maybe once it was a man… about a million years ago.’ He looked around in the tunnel. ‘I doubt that was all of them. Let’s go.’

They grabbed the rope and hauled themselves into the dark purple hole.