“I was chased by flocks of very lethal flying creatures.”
“Oh, yes, the dreads,” he said absently.
“The what?”
“The dreads. My creation. If they followed you here, they’ll be waiting just outside. If you attempt to leave, they will cut you and your canine to pieces. They never give up once they have prey at hand. Dreadful things, hence the name.”
My patience was exhausted. “Fine. If you won’t help me, I’ll find my friends by myself.” I turned and started to walk off.
“But the dreads!”
I turned and shouted, “I don’t care. I can fly, so I have a chance. And they’re my friends. I will die for them. And if you won’t help me, then go to bloody Hel!”
As soon as I finished speaking, he vanished.
Good riddance.
We rushed from the room and reentered the main hall. I stared at the double doors where the dreads, according to Jasper, still lurked. So I knew this was probably the end.
I knelt down and hugged Harry Two, pushing my face into his fur, breathing in his scent. “I love you, Harry Two. Thank you so much for all you’ve done for me.” He licked my face, and in those wonderful mismatched eyes, I could see that my canine was more than ready to stand by my side, and die with me.
I rose, my wand clutched in my hand. But before I could mouth my incantation, the huge front doors burst open. I was sure the opening would be filled with dreads coming to tear us to pieces. But there was nothing there.
I ducked when something flew past me.
It was Jasper. On a flying steed. It was as transparent as he.
He looked back and motioned for me to join him.
I hooked Harry Two into the harness, leapt into the air and followed Jasper out.
Catching up to him, we flew side by side over the darkened landscapes below. “Where are we going?” I asked.
“To find your friends.”
“Does this mean you’re going to help me?”
“Obviously.” He glanced at me in concern. “You’re clearly magical, but you’re not, well, slow, are you?”
“Do you really think I could have gotten this far if I was ‘slow’?”
“No, I suppose not.”
I looked around. “If I fly too long, a storm will come out to stop me.”
“Not so long as you’re with me.”
“You can do that?”
“This is the Fifth Circle. I created it. So I can do almost anything. Almost.”
We soared for a long time. Below us the night turned to light and then back to night and then back to light even though I knew that could not be possible. It was all so surreal that after a while I just accepted it and it no longer bothered me.
“There,” said Jasper, and he started to rapidly descend.
I followed him downward and we touched the ground about a sliver later.
“Take out your wand, Vega.”
I immediately did so. Jasper Jane had not struck me as someone easily cowed. But he looked nervous now. Yet, I thought with some measure of pride — we were family after all — that he also looked quite determined.
“Where are we going?” I asked.
“There,” he said, pointing ahead.
I could just make it out amid a sea of trees.
It looked like Steeples back in Wormwood, only it was made of the blackest wood I had ever seen. It of course had a steeple and long glass windows. But on the glass were pictures of the most horrible creatures I hoped never to see. And whereas my Steeples had a cross on top, this one had something else. It grew more distinct as we neared the structure. I recoiled in horror when I saw that it was a body split in half.
“What is... this place?” I said.
“This is the Temple of the Soul Takers. Their leader is the high priest Bezil,” said Jasper. “A truly evil creature.”
“But hold on, you created all of this! Which means you created him.”
“My job was to prevent escape from here and also entry into here,” said Jasper. “I could not do so without conjuring dark forces powerful enough to achieve both goals. Once created, these species evolved. They have had eight centuries to turn even more diabolical. They forcibly split the souls from the bodies of those unfortunate enough to cross their path, devouring the latter to nourish themselves and then turning the souls loose to wander aimlessly. That is the second way to sever your soul from your body.”
“How did you think of such a thing?”
He looked at me. “I based it on the Maladons.”
The horror of this left me speechless.
He said, “Your friends are assuredly in there. If you wish to leave them to their fate, let me know now and we can turn back.” As he finished speaking, he watched me so closely it reminded me of the way Astrea would look at me. There was a definite air of appraisal in his features.
“I already told you. I am not leaving my friends.”
“Capital,” said Jasper.
“But how do we defeat these blokes?”
“I can do nothing to them,” he said.
“What? Then why did you come?”
“To show you the way. It will be up to you to defeat them.”
My spirits sank. “Can you at least give me advice on how to do so?”
“You need to trust your instincts, Vega. And your heart. That did not serve our lot particularly well against the Maladons, but that is not to say we should not trust our heart. After all, it is the one thing we have that the Maladons do not. Good luck.”
“Wait, I have one more question.”
He looked at me expectantly.
“Why did you change your mind?”
“If I trusted one ‘soul’ in my life, it was Alice Adronis. If she wanted you to survive to take up the fight once more, then I will not stand in your way.”
And with a slight pop, Jasper Jane was gone.
Quadraginta septem: A Trusting Heart
I stared up at the wooden building whose timbers were so black that they looked to have been charred in some great fire. I glanced at Harry Two. My canine was not smiling, nor was his tail between his legs. He just looked serious. And ready. This gave me a bit of desperately needed confidence.
We approached the enormous pair of doors leading into the place. My wand held tightly in my hand, my gaze darting to and fro, we stopped in front of the doors. I pointed my wand and said, “Ingressio.”
The doors swung silently open. Though this was what I had intended, it did not make me feel any better that this temple of evil was opening so readily. I pointed my wand again and said, “Crystilado magnifica.”
For the first time ever, nothing happened. No engorged images appeared in front of me. We stepped cautiously through the opening, and the doors slammed shut behind us. Expecting it as I was, this did not startle me. I had other things to bring me terror. Starting with the interior of the place.
Every single inch of the walls and glass was covered with acts of depravity and slaughter and mayhem. It was like a maniack’s mind had been opened up and splattered, like blood, over the walls and windows.
As at Steeples, there were rough-hewn pews lining the floor. But unlike the simple beauty of the Steeples seats, these were carved with images of misery and torture and death. Creatures up and down the wood were depicted killing other creatures and then devouring them. Worst of all were the countenances of the victims, their faces frozen forever in silent horror. As I looked at them, they seemed to move right in front of my eyes, as though the army of foul things and their pitiful prey had suddenly sprung to life.
I could sense this was meant to terrify me. And I was terrified.
But that was not the same as being unready to fight.
“Embattlemento,” I cried out, pointing my wand to the right, where a winged creature with rows of clawed appendages shot at me. It slammed into my shield spell and fell to the floor in a crumpled and — gratefully — dead heap, its neck snapped from the sudden collision.