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It had been almost two days since the last fall of snow, but the winter cold had preserved the deep white layer and frozen the top, so there was a loud cracking sound every time a foot broke the undisturbed surface. It made for tough going for the remaining companions as they continued on their way to the secret tunnels' entrance, and it was impossible to remain discreet.
For the second day in a row, the bright sun had forced the tall vampire to retreat inside his protective cloak. Earlier, as he had helped Lyca into the Ferryman’s boat, his sleeve caught on a rusty iron nail sticking out of the jetty, exposing a small area of his arm just above his leather gauntlet. Almost immediately, the bare white flesh turned red and began to blister under the sun’s weak rays.
As they tramped noisily through the snow on the very edge of the woods, they were constantly aware of the immense mountain looming above the trees, almost entirely white with snow, except for the steep, sheer faces where nothing could cling. They were close now, and as Tom walked, in awe of the dominating view, he suddenly realised that it was Christmas Eve.
It was generally the custom in Tom’s family to spend Christmas Eve together. In the morning they would go into the town and do the last minute shopping. Mum, dad and Alice would go off to the supermarket and get those final perishable food items, while the boys went off together to get the Christmas cards and presents, or wrapping paper they had forgotten. They would meet up at about twelve in a prearranged café for a hot chocolate and a turkey and stuffing roll, before fighting their way back through the throng of last-minute Christmas shoppers to the car and back home. Mum would then start the baking while dad boiled a gammon joint in the big pan he used for making his homemade beer. The smells that came out of the kitchen were wonderful, surpassed only the next day when the Christmas dinner was cooking. Later they would have some of the gammon for tea and settle in front of the television till bed. Everyone went to bed early on Christmas Eve because they all knew they would be lucky if the peace lasted till four in the morning before Alice was up rousing the entire household with excitement.
Tom wondered what they were doing this year. Inevitably the usual happy outing and preparation for tomorrow would go by the wayside. Maybe they were out looking for him. Perhaps they were all sitting at home waiting for a phone call. Matt’s text had told him the police had been called. He wondered if he had made the news. His sudden sadness became apparent to Maya.
“I’m sure they miss you very much,” she said, taking his hand as they walked.
“How did you know?...” Tom began, but then remembered Maya’s unique gift and just smiled.
“I believe you will get home,” Maya said, squeezing his hand, “though I cannot say when that will be or how it will come about, I am sure you will make it. But it will not be an easy journey. You may experience many difficulties and face many trials along the way. You must remember that things may not be as they appear. Remember the hollow tube and the wolves. Only by approaching each situation objectively will you truly understand what is going on.”
“I thought you could only sense feelings,” Tom said. “It sounds as though you know what’s going to happen already.”
“I can sense a lot of things,” Maya said quietly. “Especially people I care for, even when we are apart.”
“Can you sense your Mum?”
“Sometimes,” Maya replied, “when she is very sad.”
Tom understood how she was feeling and sympathised. He heard Val ahead counting away.
“... seventy-three...seventy-four...seventy-five.”
“He’s at it again,” Tom whispered. Maya laughed. It cheered Tom to see her smile. Playing on Valcris’s affliction and raising his voice to be overheard, he said, “I live at number forty-one and my friends live at ninety-three and ninety-five.”
“...ninety-two...ninety-three...ninety-five...” Val counted at the same time.
Maya laughed again and jabbed Tom in the ribs with her elbow, “Don’t,” she said. “If he loses count again he’ll have to go all the way back to the start.” They both giggled.
Their course took them away from the river and deeper into the woods. All the while, they could see the white mountain towering above them through the leafless canopy. Eventually, they emerged from the trees at the foot of the mountain. They had traversed to the west of the monastery and out of sight of its towers. Garren and Valcris stopped short of the forest edge to take advantage of the last of the cover before stepping into the open. If they had noticed that Maya and Tom had walked the last half a mile hand in hand, they were diplomatically ignoring it.
“The entrance to the tunnel is hidden behind that rock,” Garren said when they caught up. Ahead of them, carved out of the cliff by millennia of harsh weather, a large pillar of rock jutted out like a buttress supporting the face of the mountain. It was towards this that Garren was pointing.
“Balfour has been one step ahead of us all the way,” Garren went on. “I don’t want to risk going out into the open until I’m sure it is clear.” Kneeling on one knee with his staff in front of him, he placed both hands on the shaft and bowed his head in concentration. Softly he began chanting an incantation.
The others watched in silence so as not to divert his attention. For a while, nothing happened, then, away to their left, they heard movement in the undergrowth. Valcris made ready to defend against whatever may be stalking them. Then, from the bushes emerged the little black and brown nose of a faun, timidly looking out to make sure it was safe to break cover. Its large ears twitching at every sound, the fawn cautiously stepped out of the bushes, its slim brown body dappled with white, ready to bolt at the first sign of danger.
It edged away from the woods, all the while looking around, listening, sniffing the air. It slowly made its way to the buttress of rock where, gingerly, it stepped out of sight.
Garren appeared to be in the middle of a dream, his eyes moving behind closed lids. Tom suddenly realised that Garren was controlling the faun. Somehow he was inside the little animal’s mind and using it to make sure the way was clear for them to continue.
Garren opened his eyes and pulled himself to his feet. A moment later a very confused looking faun cantered out from behind the jutting cliff and disappeared back into the forest.
“It’s clear,” Garren said. “The entrance is still there and unguarded. We should hurry, we don’t want to remain conspicuous this close to the monastery.”
As quickly as they could, they hurried across the sixty or so yards of deep snow, only disturbed by the little faun till now. The enchantment on their feet had been renewed before they set off from the camp, so the snow sprang back into place behind them as if they had never been there.
Once safely behind the jutting rock, they could see the dark entrance to the tunnel; it was just a narrow fissure in the cliff, just wide enough to accommodate one person at a time. Tom, Garren and Val approached the opening. Maya remained where she was.
“We mustn’t go in there,” she said.
“Maya,” Garren said. “What’s in there?”
“Danger,” she replied anxiously. “There is great danger in there,”
“You are most likely feeling Balfour’s presence at the other end,” Garren reassured.
“We must not enter,” she said again.
Tom went over and took her hand. “We must,” he said gently. “We won’t let anything happen to you.”
“It’s not me I’m worried about,” she replied. “Valcris must not go down that passage.”
“What is it you think is down there?” Val asked.
“I don’t know, but I have a dreadful fear that you will not return if you enter.”
“I cannot remain behind, I may be needed,” said the vampire. “I will be free of the sun and able to use all my power once inside the tunnel, I shall be fine.”
“All the same,” Garren said, “you had better stay behind us, just in case.”
“Please don’t go,” Maya pleaded, taking Val’s arm.
“We should not split up any more,” he replied. “There is no telling what resistance we may be faced with, I must go, but at least now, thanks to you, I am forewarned.”
Reluctantly Maya relented and one by one they pushed their way through the narrow opening. Garren first, followed by Tom, then Maya and Valcris bringing up the rear.
“I can’t see a thing,” Tom said when they found themselves enveloped in darkness.
“I see perfectly,” the vampire said, removing his hood. Tom looked in the direction of the voice and was momentarily startled by the two faintly glowing red eyes hovering in the darkness.
“Lux Gemmae,” said Garren. At once, the crystal in his staff glowed with a radiant white light, illuminating the vast cavern they had entered. The cavern's ceiling was out of sight; the floor was compacted dirt out of which, around the edges of the cave, grew enormous mushrooms, some were as tall as Tom.
“There were never any mushrooms here when I used the tunnels,” Garren said. “I have never seen any like these before.”
“Perhaps a spore borne by the wind blew in and was prolific,” Val said.
“Perhaps,” Garren replied, uncertainly. “It’s this way.”
The cleric led the way to the far side of the cavern where three tunnels branched off. In the distance, they could hear the sound of running water.
“The right one leads down towards the river,” Garren told them. “The middle one brings you to the far side of the mountain, and the left one leads up to the monastery.”
They took the left-hand passage which wound upwards and to the right, towards the monastery. As they entered the tunnel, Garren put out his light, plunging them all into darkness.
“Hey,” Tom protested.
“We won’t need it anymore,” Garren said. “Step forward.”
They all took a tentative step into the darkness. As they did so, one after another, in brackets all along the passage, torches burst into flame, illuminating the whole tunnel.
“Excellent,” Tom marvelled. “Security lighting.”
“We should go back,” Maya insisted.
“What’s that up ahead?” Garren said. “Wait here; I’ll go and have a look.”
A little further along, a small stone table stood in the middle of the passage. As Garren approached, he saw a small set of gold-coloured weighing scales on the table and a wooden bowl next to it. On one side of the scales was a little golden weight, in the opposite tray, a pile of something.
All at once, Garren knew it was a trap. The scale held a perfectly balanced pile of rice. Balfour knew about the passages, and he knew that a vampire was coming.
“Go back,” he called. “Get back into the cavern.”
But it was too late. Valcris’ keen eyesight had already spied the rice and compelled by the affliction of his race, he left the ground and glided silently over the heads of his companions, landing without a sound on the far side of the table.
“Val, it’s a trap, we have to get out of here,” Garren urged.
“One minute,” Val answered absently and began to count.
As each grain was counted, he tossed it into the wooden bowl. In his mind, he knew it was crazy; the whole thing was set up for him to do precisely this.
It wasn’t long before he and the others found out why.
As the pile of rice on the scales diminished, the side with the weight began to drop. When half of the rice had been transferred to the little wooden dish, the heavier pan on the scales touched the table. The silence of the tunnel, until now broken only by the three friends urging the vampire to leave his insane task, was shattered by the sound of a loud horn blowing a signal of their presence.
“Great,” said Tom. “It’s alarmed too.”
“Val, we have to leave now,” shouted Garren.
“...two hundred, forty-seven... almost there... two hundred, forty-eight...” Val continued to count.
The horn stopped.
“...two hundred, ninety-one...”
A chilling roar echoed through the passage. Ahead, where the tunnel bent round to the right, a bright orange light flared up, more intense than a hundred torches.
“...three hundred, twenty-four...”
A second roar followed by a ball of flame from further on, petering out as it hit the wall.
“It’s a dragon!” Tom gasped.
“Not down here,” Garren answered. “Not enough room in these passages.”
“...three hundred, fifty-three...”
Around the bend came the most horrific sight Tom had ever seen. The head of a lion, with a shaggy mane, sheared back to behind its little round ears. Its body looked as if it belonged to a large goat. It bounded around the bend and losing its footing, crash into the wall, swishing its long snakelike tail in an attempt to regain its balance. As it hit the wall, it bowed its lion’s head, and Tom saw with horror, a second head. The creature had a goat’s head, facing backwards, just behind the first. The beast roared with pain and let out a jet of fire from its mouth.
“A Chimaera,” Garren cried. “Run!”
“...three hundred, seventy-two...”
Maya, Tom and Garren ran back towards the mouth of the tunnel.
“Valcris. Move!” Garren screamed.
“... three hundred, eighty-nine...”
“Look!” cried Tom.
Ahead of them, at the tunnel’s entrance, an iron grate had begun to descend from the rock above. They had to get there before it reached the floor and trapped them in the passage with the hideous creature. They raced as fast as they could and slid under the descending barrier.
The impossible animal had regained its legs and was bounding towards the vampire, who continued to count with his back to the advancing predator.
“...three hundred, ninety-nine...four hundred...Done.”
He swung round in time to see the huge powerful jaws of the creature’s lion head as they snapped at his upper body. The vampire tried to leap clear of the ground and out of the way of the sharp fangs but was not quick enough. The teeth bit into his side, causing him to scream in agony.
Garren aimed a hex at the monster, but the powerful burst of light from the blazing jewel in his staff only startled the creature as it hurtled past its goat head, just a fraction of an inch from its creepy horizontal slit of an eye. It only served to divert the creature’s attention for a split second before it struck the high ceiling of the passage causing the rock to collapse, sealing it off with fallen debris.
Valcris used the distraction to twist himself free of the cloak that had become entangled in the creatures sharp fangs. H leapt into the air and out of danger, leaving the Chimaera shaking its head from side to side in its attempt to disentangle its mouth from the garment. Val headed for the gate, but he wasn’t going to make it.
Garren searched for something with which to brace the heavy grill, but there was nothing around. He jammed the butt of his staff into the ground and lined the top up with the bottom iron cross beam.
“Hurry Val,” they cried.
The gate hit the top of the staff, and the stout wooden shaft was forced into the hard ground. The mechanism of the portcullis began to whine with the strain. Val was almost there, just a few more feet. The wood began to splinter under the weight of the iron grate enhanced by the screaming gears. The staff held back the gate just long enough for the vampire to slide underneath and out of the way of the beast bounding after him. But the weight was too much, and the staff snapped in two, the uppermost part falling inside the gate as it closed. Garren made a grab for it through the ironwork, but before he could grasp it, it was dashed aside by the hoof of the Chimaera.
“Get back,” shouted Maya as the beast drew a deep breath.
Barely in time, the four companions rolled out of the path of the fireball, coming to rest in a tangled heap outside the other tunnels. But, far from being out of harm’s way, as the fireball struck one of the giant mushrooms its enormous greeny-grey umbrella exploded scattering hundreds of spores like darts throughout the cavern. Each spore was the size and shape of a golf tee, and as each one reached another mushroom, it attached its cup to the surface and stabbed its tail into the flesh. This, in turn, led to the explosion of the next fungus, with the same effect.
Much to the exhausted travellers' dismay, the spores could not distinguish between a mushroom and a person. First Garren cried out in pain as a spore attached itself to the side of his neck and stabbed its tail into his flesh. He snatched it off and threw it to the ground. Maya and Tom had a similar encounter with the evil fungus spores. More and more of the mushrooms were exploding, and the air was filling with the spores. They had to get out of the cavern while they still could. But it was so dark; the only light came from the still burning torches behind the portcullis, where the beast again roared, angry at being deprived of a tasty feast.
Tom was desperate to see his way out of the stone chamber as another two spores attacked his leg. He willed his gem to light up, and instantly light filled the cavern, not only from the jewel around his neck but from his entire body. He was encircled in a shimmering halo, forcing the others to shield their eyes. But he couldn’t wait to wonder at his newfound ability as a human lantern; he just ran for the fissure, followed by his companions, running through the gathering storm of spores as the domino effect of exploding mushrooms followed them to the gap in the rock.
Tom emerged into the bright sunshine like a cork out of a Champagne bottle, falling face down in the snow. Maya came next falling directly on top of him.
“Sorry,” she called trying to clamber up, but she was knocked down again as Garren fell from the gap. He had six spores attached to his back, out of his reach. Maya and Tom pulled them off before realising Valcris was still inside.
“Val, where are you?” Garren called.
“The sun,” cried the pain-stricken vampire.
They understood immediately. Valcris had lost his cloak and his protection against the bright sunlight. If he came out to escape the spores, he would burn up, as his arm had done earlier that day. He could be heard crying out as more and more spores attached themselves to his body.
“We have to get him out of there,” screamed Maya.
“I can’t do anything without my staff,” Garren shouted. “I can’t even put the tent up.”
“We have to do something,” Maya said, taking her own cloak off to try and cover him when he came out.
Tom looked up at the sky and saw a tiny cloud. Wishing with all his might, his gemstone began to pulsate with light. The lonely cloud scurried across the sky, growing in size as it went. It found another cloud and joined with it to make one larger one. It took up its place in front of the sun, granting a little shade to the world below. Then clouds began to arrive from every direction, flying across the sky to join with the others, hiding the sun. More and more clouds. Faster and faster they came, obscuring the sun completely. The sky grew dark with heavy clouds, and still they came. Day turned almost to night; just an eerie light illuminated the snow-covered world. And then the blizzard came.
With the heavy cloud cover and the thick, blinding snow, it was safe for the vampire to emerge from the rock face. He fell out into the snow, covered in the spores, all trying to get through his garments and burrow into his skin. Maya, Garren and Tom frantically pulled them off one by one till their blood-soaked friend was free of them.
“How in the world did you manage that?” Garren asked, indicating the blizzard.
“I just sort of wished the sun would go in and it happened,” Tom said.
“Your power is definitely becoming stronger,” Garren replied. “Help me with Val. There’s a cave just around the corner. We can shelter there till your storm blows over.”
Between the three of them, they managed to get the injured vampire to the cave where they sheltered from the storm for more than an hour. It was so cold with no wood for a fire, but they huddled together out of the wind and watched as the puncture wounds on Valcris’ face and neck closed up and disappeared completely before their eyes. The benefit of the undead power of self-healing.
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BALFOUR FELT QUITE content as he sat in his apartments, secure in the knowledge that the insolence of the group trying to sneak in and steal his book was about to be crushed once and for all. Later he would go and find the key in the remains of the Chimaera’s lunch. He silently congratulated himself on his ingenuity in trapping the vampire.
“Once again you have not succeeded,” said a weary female voice.
“What do you mean?” asked the tyrant.
“The vampire lives. They have all escaped the beast.”
Balfour rose from his seat and approached the female. She was a slender, middle-aged woman, but her black hair was showing signs of grey. Her clothes were dirty and looked as if they had not been changed for many days. She was sat uncomfortably on the floor, her wrists bound together around a pillar.
“You lie, the vampire at least must have perished, he would not have been able to resist my trap.”
“What possible advantage would it be to lie about whether he lives or dies?” asked the woman.
“To annoy me, perhaps,” replied Balfour.
A shadow fell over the room. “What is happening?” he asked.
“Beware, my lord,” said the woman. “The friends of the vampire are powerful, indeed. Even the forces of nature obey their commands.”
Balfour went to the balcony and watched as clouds sped across the sky to cover the sun. As the sky darkened and the snow started to fall, he began to feel unsettled. He went in out of the cold, closing the doors behind him.
“What now?” he asked.