Chapter Thirteen

 

 

 

There was a whisper in the night, then a dull metallic thud and a soft creak. I slung the bow over my shoulder and sprinted up the path. As I arrived, I jumped and kicked the door with all my might. I jarred my leg, staggered and fell sprawling. I made the door swing a full two inches. As I hopped around holding my leg and cussing under my breath, Sebastian came running up to me. He ignored me and gently pushed the door a couple of feet farther. He slipped in through the gap and I hobbled after him.

It was real dark inside and silent as a grave. I touched Sebastian’s arm and whispered to him to get behind the nearest pew. Then I inched down the aisle toward the altar. Nothing happened until I was halfway along. There was an almighty crash and the door smashed closed. Then all hell broke loose, literally—and I do mean, literally.

Above the altar, a swirling spiral of red and orange flames spinning counterclockwise at a dizzying speed disgorged what I could only describe as a giant lizard man with black and green scaly skin and phosphorescent yellow eyes, wielding a huge trident spear. He was riding a lizard-panther the size of a minibus that sprang at me with its vast maw open and fire spurting from where its eyes should have been. The roar was horrific. I screamed and knew in my bones that it was all over. I was dead.

But I wasn’t. Somehow my muscles moved on their own. I was possessed. Somehow my sword was in my hands and I smashed it into the panther’s face. It reared, snarling, and the trident came at me from nowhere. I hammered it to one side and slashed at the panther’s belly. I know I hurt it because its scream rattled the rafters and it took off up to the ceiling, leaving behind it a trail of sulfur. Flames licked at the ancient beams then it was nose-diving at me and the lizard-man was leaning to his side, holding the trident as a lance. There was a scream like a squadron of F-16s and the air caught fire. My sword seemed to move of its own volition. I batted the lance to one side, spun on my heel, brought the blade smashing down, two-handed, and split the demon lizard-panther right down the middle. I clove it in twain and rendered it asunder. No mistake.

There was a horrific explosion. The screaming and thrashing was unbearable and I collapsed into the fetal position, covering my head with my arms. The ground shook and there was a blast of burning air and a stench of sulfur—then silence. I poked my head out of my arms and looked up. I think I said, “Oh, shit!”

There was no trace of the lizard-panther, but his rider was standing over me. He must have been fifteen-feet-tall if he was an inch. He appeared like he’d been drawn by one of the Marvel team while they were tripping on mescaline. Two massive goat’s horns had sprouted from his head and curled all the way down to the backs of his knees. He had a washboard abdomen and muscles no organic being ought to have and in places they ought never be. He had smoke coiling out of his nostrils and in his hand, instead of the trident, he now held a massive hammer.

His roar shook the foundations of the church but his hammer blow shook the foundations of the earth. Something made me roll, and the hit missed me by an inch. If he’d hit me, I would have been atomized. I ran, jumped, ducked and rolled again, and with every move I made, a massive hammer strike fell where I had been half a second before. This was not sword fighting. I could not keep it up indefinitely and I could not get close enough to him to finish it. I was on the defensive and sooner, rather than later, he was going to get me.

I suddenly knew what I had to do. I sprinted to put some distance between us then I stopped and turned, facing him. I braced myself and waited for the attack. He snarled, bellowed and swung at me back-handed. I parried with my sword in the last second. The force lifted me and threw me twenty feet. I landed with a crash and slid another fifteen feet, spinning on the stone floor as I went. Finally, I hit the wall and stopped. I was winded and gasping, and my chest felt like it was going to rip in half. The great demon was standing, bellowing a huge laugh that threatened to bring down the roof. I had no time to watch or feel sorry for myself. Every micro-second counted. I dropped my sword and pulled the bow from my back. In another second, I had one of the gold-tipped arrows and I had nocked it and pulled. He froze, staring with wild eyes. He moved too late. I had loosed. There was a whisper in the air and the arrow met its mark in the dead center of his heart.

The explosion was a white, nuclear blast, and the scream that went with it was harrowing. It was the despair of a demon cast back into the black void of Hell. It passed, and next I was lying on my back, trembling. There was an eerie, unearthly glow in the air. I turned and saw Sebastian still crouching behind the pew. He appeared ashen. I heard his voice like it was coming from a million miles away. “That’s what you call a leprechaun?”

I struggled to my feet. “Whatever they are, there is another one. Wait—”

Far at the other end of the church, beyond the altar, a door banged open with a reverberating echo and two men burst through. They seemed to be miles away, striding toward me. The nearest was lean, dressed in black, with a cloak hanging from his shoulders. He had an authoritative, almost aristocratic, bearing. The man behind him was big, muscular. He gave the impression of a bear, with a huge fur cloak and a great battle-ax over his shoulder. Dicky had arrived with the other shape-shifting leprechaun.

I staggered to my feet and held my sword in both hands. I knew exactly what I had to do. I fixed Dicky with my eyes and clamped my mind on him vise-like. I saw him break his stride and falter. His right hand went to his head. I hit him like a sledge hammer, plunging in and bellowing into his mind, “What do you want? Tell me! What do you want?” Then I visualized my mind was a vacuum, sucking everything from inside him. I felt my stomach clench and my mouth open, and I roared like a demented ogre as I dragged his thoughts from his head.

He stopped, bent almost double, both hands to his temples. His eyes were clenched shut as he screamed, “Nooooo!”

I let go and, before he could recover, I charged him. I pelted six strides, then I leaped as he staggered back and I smashed into his chest with both feet. He went flying and crashed into the hairy hulk behind him. They both sprawled on the floor. Before they had time to think, my blade was flashing left and right. They cowered under their raised weapons, half-sitting, struggling to get to their feet. I bombarded them with blows, and all the while, I fastened my mind on Dicky, sucking on his thoughts, blitzing his brain with mine. I am pretty sure he had never experienced an assault like it in his life.

I had no idea what Sebastian was doing. I blocked him firmly from my thoughts so that there was no chance of Dicky’s realizing what the real attack was and that I was just a diversion. And Sebastian was as good as his word because he skidded as he reached the chancel and ducked to his left in front of the altar, heading for the door through which Dicky and the hulk had appeared. He had no choice but to do that, because it was the only way down to the crypt. But it was a shame because just for that moment I saw him, and just for a fraction of a second, I faltered. That was all Dicky needed.

He’d caught it. In a flash, he rolled, spun and kicked my legs from under me. I smashed onto my back and the wind was knocked from my lungs. My chest went into spasm, and as hard as I gasped, I couldn’t get any air into my lungs. He sprang to his feet and raised the sword in both hands, its tip pointing straight down at my heart, and he plunged.

My hand moved of its own volition. My blade flashed, and as I rasped for air, I deflected his blow and it hit the granite floor in a shower of sparks. I staggered to my feet, screeching for air. Six blows rained on me from his blade and I parried them all while clawing at my throat. Then I saw it. My heart leaped with terror and I screamed, “Noooo!”

Sebastian was hurtling like a quarterback on speed toward the door of the crypt. He was reaching for the handle, but just inches behind him was the hairy hulk. I sprang forward toward them, but Dicky kicked me in the shins and I sprawled on my face. As I slid forward, I saw the big hulk grab Sebastian by the back of his neck and yank hard. Sebastian was lifted off his feet and flew backward toward the chancel. He hit the stone floor on his back, bounced and somersaulted like a rag doll and flopped face down on the floor. He lay motionless. I felt sick.

The great brute raised his hammer over his head. I sprang to my feet with a yelp, sideswiped Dicky with my sword and leaped. I brought my blade up as his hammer was crashing down. The blow jarred me to the bone, but if Sebastian wasn’t already dead, it saved his life. I cut savagely down and gashed the hulk’s leg. He staggered back. I spun and raised my sword over my head without thinking. It stopped Dicky’s blade splitting my skull. His midriff was wide open so I kicked him hard in the belly, and as he went down, I kicked him again, twice. When he rolled and scrambled to his feet, I turned and hammered at the hulk with six lightning-fast blows of my sword. He fell and that gave me three seconds. I turned and probed Sebastian’s mind with mine. He was sick and numb, but he was alive. I blasted him with the command, “Crawl to the door to the crypt! I will cover you!”

And they were on me with a hail of blows. My sword moved at warp speed. Wherever the stabs or slashes came from, my sword was there—deflecting, parrying, blocking. I made no effort to strike back. That would waste energy. All I wanted was to cover Sebastian as he crawled, inch by agonizing inch, to the door through which Dicky had arrived. And while I defended myself, I probed Dicky’s mind again—attacking, sucking at his thoughts, draining him of his concentration. My mind locked on his skull, hammering and grinding its way in. He was staring and the sweat was running down his brow. I inched back two steps, feeling for Sebastian with my heel. He had moved.

Then I heard the creak of the door. Dicky heard it, too, and his eyes widened in a glare. He knew, suddenly, that he had been tricked. He roared like a lion and redoubled his attack. But he knew, as I did, that I was invincible, as was he, and as long as I was just defending myself, there was nothing he could do. Meanwhile, behind me, Sebastian was dragging himself to his feet, leaning on the door jamb. Now, I needed to turn the tables. Now, I needed to go on the offensive.

I launched a savage, unstoppable attack on the hulk, forcing Dicky to come to his defense. I nicked his cheek, slashed his leg and cut his arm, my blade moving faster than the eye could see. He reeled and backed away as Dicky fought desperately to deflect my blows. Then I turned on him and lunged with my blade at his face, and simultaneously, with my mind, I seized his brain and rammed a nuclear bomb into his imagination. It exploded in an insane, white flash. He screamed and stepped back, gripping his head with his hands. I turned. Sebastian was down the first three steps. The door stood open. I stepped in. The last thing I saw before I slammed it was Dicky’s raging face, and in that moment, for a fraction of a second, I read something in his eyes. I turned the key and we were in absolute darkness.

I could hear Sebastian’s ragged breathing a couple of feet from me. I said, “You okay?”

His voice came back, trembling but reassuring. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

I felt in my pocket and pulled out my cell. I switched on the flashlight app and saw his face shying away from the glare. We inched our way down the steps. After a minute of slow progress, we came to the bottom. There was a kind of small lobby with a door on the right and a door on the left. I was wondering why the hulk hadn’t just ripped the door off its hinges and followed us down, but he hadn’t, and that was enough for me. I stood a moment and calculated where the window was that I had peered through. I crossed to the door on the right, pushed it open and saw the most horrific sight I have ever seen in my life.

Ciara was sitting on a sofa, trembling and sobbing. Michael Fionn was sitting next to her with his arm around her. His face was drawn and gray. They both looked up as we pushed in. Then we all stared at the padre, lying on the floor, staring sightlessly at the ceiling with a dagger stuck in his heart.

Ciara turned back to me. She was shaking her head and tears were streaming down her cheeks. She said, “He tried to protect us.”

Her dad scowled at me. “I suppose you’ve come to finish the job.”

Ciara grabbed his arm in her hands. “No, Dad. This is Jake. I told you about him. He’s come to rescue us.”

I heard Sebastian’s wry, exhausted voice over my shoulder. “And I’m Sebastian, also here to rescue you.”

Fionn said, “And how the bloody hell do you plan to do that?”

Sebastian placed a hand on my shoulder and leaned heavily on me. “Yes, Jake, mannerless and ungrateful as the bugger is, I have to concur. How the bloody hell do we plan to do that? There is one way out of here and that is blocked by a hairy Viking and an immoderate twat.”

Fionn scowled some more and said, “I’ll not let you put my girl at risk.”

Ciara said, “Oh, for God’s sake, Daddy!”

And Sebastian said, “You might make it through, Jake, but the rest of us don’t stand a chance. We’ll be slaughtered in seconds.”

I spoke quietly. “If you’ll all please just shut the fuck up, I’ll tell you how.”