PROLOGUE

On the verge of collapse, his exhausted body racked with pain, he pressed onward despite the futility of his efforts since he knew there could be only one outcome. Pushed beyond endurance the strength to continue his desperate flight was all but spent yet it wasn’t in him to simply give up. Driven to flight by a creature beyond his wildest imaginings that relentlessly remained in pursuit, he struggled forward fearful of the slightest hesitation, yet even as he did so, his pace faltered. What little remained of his strength was ebbing fast, and with it his will to go on, wrung from him with every tortured breath that he took. Never doubting that his life would be forfeit should he stop, his dread was no longer sufficient to overcome either the fatigue or the bitter chill that assailed him.

He didn't need to look round to know that his pursuer was gaining ground; he could tell from the steadily increasing sound of its movement as it raced after him across the coarse reddish sand. Rising from the gentle susurration that had first warned him of its approach, to the hiss of a thousand maddened snakes now filling his ears with its repulsive sibilance. It was so close he could smell the death taint of its foetid breath whilst imagining its warmth against the chill of the desert, caressing his bare arms in some vile imitation of a summer's breeze.

For the briefest of moments, the agonized expression on his face softened, his handsome features touched by a grim smile, as his thoughts responded to the mockery. There was no warmth; only the penetrating cold that slowly and inexorably pervaded his whole being, until his muscles no longer burned from exertion, as his limbs became anaesthetized, tempting him to succumb to its deadly caress.

As icy tendrils gripped the muscles of his legs, forcing them to move became no longer a simple effort of will, but something that demanded every ounce of what little of his strength remained. Although compelled to go on by his body's primal instinct for survival, he could no longer shut out the intrusive thoughts filling his mind, their shocking images foretelling his death. Certain that he had no way to escape the beast's clutch, or its ravening jaws, the end now seemed inevitable.

With his movement reduced to little more than walking pace, he forced himself to keep going. Left, right, left, right, left...without warning, his right leg failed him; with all feeling in the frozen limb gone, his foot remained firmly on the ground as momentum pitched him forward. Like a drunken funambulist his arms wind-milled in a desperate attempt to regain his balance, losing him precious moments as he struggled to continue his erratic passage. Unaware that both the images that filled his mind and the cold that afflicted his body were being created by the powers of his hunter in its efforts to halt him, their effects were no less real.

Snapping upright as if awakening from an unwelcome doze, he struggled to keep going, his barely coordinated movements akin to those of a marionette in unskilled hands. Again his gaze flicked up, searching the way ahead, but the effort was futile, for nothing but the flat unbroken sands lay before him, with no sign of habitation to offer succour or refuge. Finally beaten into submission by his despair, a sob escaped his lips as he accepted the hopelessness of his situation.

Driven by desperation, he rallied the last vestiges of his strength and readied himself for one final effort. Despite scant hope that a sudden change in direction might catch his adversary off balance, he halted; spinning round his sword grasped in a double-handed grip, as he prepared to wield its blade in defence. But in that instant, as he turned to finally face his antagonist, whatever optimism he had dared to hold became lost in the realisation that any such challenge was pointless. No mere mortal could hope to stand against such a creature with nothing but a sword with which to defend himself, and knowing his life to be forfeit, he cursed his foolishness for surrendering it so lightly. His resolve melted away with the slow fall of his blade, its downward drift halted only when the tip rested in the sand at his feet.

So hideous was the monster he now beheld, he stood unmoving, transfixed by the horror this vision beyond insane nightmare now brought upon him. Surely only in the darkest reaches of hell could such an abomination have been spawned, a gigantic chimæra whose grotesque form towered over him, rising to more than twice his height. No reflection showed on its ebon surface, only the gold of the massive scorpion-like pincers of its upper body broke the absence of colour as they began extending their deadly embrace, clashing rhythmically as they opened and closed in unison.

With all thought of escape gone, he could only stare in mindless fascination at the beast before him. Its bulbous thorax rested on six chitinous legs, the obvious source of its speed across the sand, each tipped with razor-edged claws. Large protuberant, red eyes glared evilly from its massive triangular head in distorted resemblance to that of a mantis, swivelling left then right as if to view him more clearly. Slavering, snapping jaws whose constant movement exposed a double row of pointed teeth that drooled in scarlet splashes the bloodied remnants of its last victim down the front of its body.

With its prey no longer seeking escape, the creature slowly raised its right pincer, the great yellow claw glinting like burnished metal in the golden light of the sun above, before swinging it downwards at its victim's head. Such was its speed that he had no time to evade the scything sweep of that terrible weapon of death or avoid the blow that would crush him as a man might an ant. Without conscious thought or effort, reflex action closed his eyes as if to spare him sight of his own ineluctable destruction.

Like some demonic timpanist, his racing heart beat on; his whole body pulsing to its furious rhythm as it marked time for the last moments of his life. Thump, thump, thump... filling his ears with its sound, thump, thump, thump... echoing in his head, thump, thump, thump... every artery, every vein relaying the life sustaining pulse. Thump, thump, thu... awareness finally asserting itself. His heart continued to beat; he was still alive. His thoughts whirled as every fibre, every sinew of his body remained tensed in anticipation of the blow to come; yet he remained untouched.

Unable to move yet desperate to put an end to the torment, he cautiously opened his eyes terrified that the creature was somehow taunting him, wanting him to witness the coming of his own annihilation, but the creature was gone. Turning his head this way and that, he quickly repeated the movements as if unwilling to accept what his eyes failed to see; yet doing so brought no change. There was nothing, no sign of the beast nor trace of its passing across the sand within range of his vision. Despite his relief at finding his life no longer threatened, he was so bewildered by the events of the last few moments that he gave no thought as to what made it possible.

Slowly and painfully, his body began to protest its response to his exertions, feeling returning to his numbed limbs as fire lanced through nerves, and muscles spasmed, lifting the torpor and awakening his mind. Shifting his right foot, he let out a cry as the pain hit him; almost falling as the cold receded leaving him to bear the burning agony that was its bequest. With his sword still clutched in one hand, he fought to bring life back to his legs with the other, driving his fingers hard into protesting muscles as his gaze constantly flicked back and forth, still searching for the creature, fearful of its return.

He had no explanation for the beast’s disappearance, or why it had left no mark in the sand, yet his one thought now was to get away. If the mystery were to be resolved, it would have to wait until another time, now he wanted to be as far from this place as possible. With his body still tormented by returned feeling, he made to move, but before he could take a single step, the air filled with a crackling sound and he was plucked from the ground in a blaze of shimmering azure light. Like a bird, he was suddenly soaring high in the air, yet whilst filled with panic, his mind somehow took note that his erstwhile pursuer was nowhere to be seen, even from his new vantage point.

With jangling nerves stretched taut, and heart still pounding from the exertion of fleeing from what had seemed certain death only moments before, he barely registered that he was now hurtling unsupported through the air. So impossible was his situation that his mind refused to accept what his senses relayed. Although aware that he still breathed, that physically he remained unharmed, he was incapable of comprehending the enormity of what was happening to him, nor wonder what agency could so easily control his movements.

As swiftly as it began so his flight ended in a blinding light that left his sight dimmed and his nostrils filled with the pungent smell of ozone as he was gently lowered to the ground and set on his feet. For long moments, he remained still, his only movement the blinking of his eyes as he struggled against blurred vision whilst his mind fought to contain his racing thoughts, as if any movement might send him teetering over the boundary between sanity and the black chasm of madness. Little by little, he calmed himself, inhaling deeply to slow his furious breathing until once more, his thoughts directed his actions, yet by no stretch of imagination would he consider himself in control of his situation.

Having regained enough of his senses to evince interest in his surroundings, his first thought beyond the futility of wondering how he came to be where he stood, was to question where he might be as clearly he was no longer in the desert, but standing high up, on a rocky outcrop overlooking a bleak and desolate plain. Having once been deprived of any influence over events, he felt a reluctance to move position, fearing that to do so might provoke further response from whomever or whatever watched over him. So it was with fear in his heart and impossible thoughts flooding his mind, that he strove to find an acceptable explanation, but nothing he could contrive would make clear what had just taken place, it was all quite surreal.

Whatever the cause, he knew of nothing that could account for his transition from one place to another without visible means. Desperate to strengthen the feeble grip he felt was all that he presently had on reality, his gaze darted about in all directions as if seeking an answer, yet his search was not to be satisfied. He felt an innate wrongness in all that was about him, something that ran deeper than his senses could penetrate, as though this wasn’t reality or at least not his reality, but a contrivance, no matter how real it might appear.

As far as the eye could see, the deepest hues of red coloured the extraordinary landscape; so dark in places they appeared almost black. Never had a place affected him so strongly, stirring such intense feelings of hostility and threat, causing him to think that someone or something had deliberately lain waste this grim expanse. Lacking prescience, he could not realise how that single thought would come to haunt him repeatedly, driving him to actions and consequences beyond his wildest imagining. Seemingly devoid of any form of life, only what looked like charred and blackened outcrops apparently dotted at random or gathered in groups across much of the vast outlook relieved the otherwise barren vista.

Without knowing why, he felt gripped by a compulsion that demanded he view these misshapen objects more closely. Gazing intently at them, he shuddered as he sensed a familiarity with the way in which those nearest him appeared to be standing, forcing an instinctive recognition. Straining to see better, his already embattled senses repelled at the sight, as waves of nausea and dizziness swept over him, forcing him to his knees. Yet, there could be no denying the truth of what he saw. These were human figures, or at least what had once been human, and looking down on them, he knew that they numbered in their thousands.

Struggling upright and breathing deeply, he forced back the bile that rose in his throat, as he searched for a way down from his rocky perch. Although sickened by what he saw, something deep within him insisted that he be certain about what lay below. Looking left and then right he spotted a rough path leading downward, hewn in the rock face not twenty paces from where he stood. Driven by this need to know more, he moved forward and began his halting descent, the incarnadine landscape silently beckoning him on.

Drawing ever closer with his mind in turmoil, he found that no amount of self-delusion could convince him he was wrong. The objects before him were neither statues nor carvings, but what had once been flesh and blood, yet in some terrible way, transformed to resemble stone or cinder.

Progress was slow down the steep and narrow path. Distracted by a myriad thoughts of what awaited him on the plain below, his concentration wandered until his foot struck a loose pebble causing him to lose his balance. Flinging himself back against the hard rock face to avoid falling, the clang of metal striking stone forced his mind back to his surroundings, reminding him that he still held his sword, the firmness of its grip providing some small measure of comfort.

Reaching the end of the path and with less than a hundred yards separating him from the nearest of the objects, without warning he was once more jerked from his feet as unseen forces again took control, bearing him skyward with a movement so violent that he felt his fingers lose their grip on the sword. As the breath was driven from his body by the speed and force that moved him, his disorientation became absolute.

So swift was his passage as he was propelled away from the ground that the pressure prevented him from drawing air into his starving lungs. Near to panic, impending death once more filling his thoughts, he felt himself slipping into unconsciousness as his vision darkened. At the very moment his body finally gave up the hopeless struggle to control his breathing, he experienced a moment's thought of startling clarity before sliding into oblivion... the crystal... he must possess the crystal!

For long moments the body rested seemingly at peace, before wild convulsions suddenly seized it throwing back the head to expose a face distorted by shocking rictus, as the limbs flailed, gripped by a paroxysm over which apparently no control could be exercised. Slowly, as the minutes passed and consciousness gradually returned, so the tremors stilled until suddenly, the eyes flicked open their pupils fixed wide and unseeing, as if the physical being, although animate, had no soul, no inner force to give it true life.

Little by little as the senses began to respond to the body’s awakened state, perception returned and with it a feeling of great foreboding. Fear rose, forcing a tortured cry from blue tinged lips, as the gaze darted hither and yon, seemingly in dread of what the eyes might see, yet searching, seeking familiarity, desperate for the reassurance it should provide.