All at once Matt’s perspective fractured, as if he was looking through the thick glass bottom of a bottle. He saw himself, lashed to the foul machine. He saw Jeannie and Malcolm weaving from side to side, Carik’s knife poised and ready to slash. He had done it. He was the Grendel.
He looked down at the corpulent mass of festering muck that was the Grendel’s body. Across the cavern he saw his human body gagging, and he tasted bile. The Grendel was a conflagration of millions of sucking, faceless mouths, like flames licking out from the thick black sludge. Matt felt them all pressing in on him. Swallowing his disgust, he urged the beast forward, controlling its will… controlling its hunger.
The Grendel lumbered towards Malcolm who stood defiantly in front of Jeannie, his eyes darting between Matt’s blank eyes and the monster’s ravenous ones.
‘Very clever, Mattie. I knew you wouldn’t disappoint. Your abilities are beyond what I ever could have imagined.’
The Grendel moved closer. Malcolm stepped back. ‘Mattie, think about what we could achieve together, you and I! Father and son.’
Matt heard his father’s words as if he was under water. This man in front of him, this abomination, was no longer his father. Never really had been.
‘Lass,’ said Jeannie to Carik, ‘help me get Matt out of this contraption. Then ye must leave. Any minute now, a whole world of terrible is going to break open, and I’d like you not to be here when that happens.’
‘I’m not leaving,’ said Carik at once as she helped Jeannie wrench open the locks binding Matt’s ankles and feet, tearing off the vile metal gloves on his fingers. ‘I can fight.’
‘This isn’t yer battle, lass,’ said Jeannie.
Controlling the Grendel, keeping Malcolm pinned in the corner of the cavern, was draining Matt of everything he had.
‘Jeannie, I feel sick,’ he whispered. ‘I don’t know how long I can do this.’
Jeannie squeezed his hand. ‘Not much longer, son. Promise.’
Matt felt the smash of something heavy breaking open the clasp on his iron mask, the blessed relief of air on his face. Still he held the Grendel’s mind, and watched Malcolm with the Grendel’s eyes.
‘Go,’ Jeannie ordered Carik.
Carik glowered. ‘I will not—’
‘I need you to trust me, lass. If you don’t leave now and join Solon, with the old monk’s death there will be no future for Matt or his sister.’
Matt’s head was splitting open. The Grendel’s bloodlust was powerful. He could feel how strongly it wanted to rip Malcolm apart. How much longer could he keep control?
He suddenly felt Carik’s cool hand on his. ‘You have my pledge forever, Matt of Calder.’
Matt’s voice felt unsteady. He had grown fond of the fierce Viking girl. ‘And you have mine. You and Solon. For what it’s worth.’
‘Climb up through that hole and ye’ll find yerself out on the hillside, lass,’ Jeannie instructed, guiding Carik away from the foul stinking slime of the howling Grendel. ‘The North Star will be high on your right side. Find yer way to the mill where Solon is waiting for you.’
Matt’s concentration had slipped as Carik looked into his eyes – the Grendel’s eyes – in farewell.
It was a mistake.
Carik’s eyes suddenly widened. ‘Look out!’
Her warning was too late. Matt felt a piercing agony in his side.
His father had plunged the sharp white tip of the bone quill deep into his own son’s flesh.