James Islington - The Shadow Of What Was Lost

They walked for a few more minutes until Taeris abruptly signalled a stop, looking up at an unusual structure on the side of the road. It was less a building than a spire, twisting at impossible angles as it stretched skyward and only twenty feet wide at its base, just large enough to accommodate the broad double doors set into its facade. Davian couldn’t quite see, but he suspected it stretched well back from the street.

Suddenly a piercing shriek cut across the silence. Davian spun, trying to determine the direction from which it had come, but all was still.

“What was that?” asked Aelric, his voice thick with apprehension.

Taeris shook his head. “Stay alert,” was all he said, casting a longing glance towards the building. He took a deep, steadying breath. “And stay here. I’ll return soon.”

“What?” whispered Wirr in disbelief. “You’re going in there? Why?”

Taeris didn’t have time to respond before another cry came. This time it was deeper, clearly a man’s voice; the sound was so full of pain that Aelric’s sword was out of its sheath before anyone else could even move. He held it for a moment, wary, scanning the road ahead before slowly sheathing it again. No-one chuckled at the reaction. Davian felt blood pounding in his ears, his muscles tensed.

Then he strangled a yell. He’d been looking at one of the buildings, and for the briefest of moments there had been someone standing in the doorway and staring straight at them. The expression on the man’s face had been… quizzical, with neither alarm nor malice in his gaze.

Then the stranger was gone again. Vanished.

“What?” hissed Taeris, his tone a mixture of fear and anger at the comparative loudness of Davian’s cry.

Davian didn’t take his eyes from the building. “There was a man in that doorway,” he said, gesturing towards where he had seen the figure.

Taeris' eyebrows raised. “Are you sure?”

Davian nodded mutely.

Taeris grimaced and looked about to say something else when Caeden gasped, pointing in a different direction. They all spun to see a young woman standing in the middle of the road, looking at them with an expression of curiosity. Taeris made to step towards her, but even as he moved, she was gone again.

“Illusions,” muttered Aelric. His comment was punctuated by another scream, though this one seemed further away.

Taeris shook his head slowly. “I don’t think so.”

Suddenly Wirr let out a roar of warning, and Davian spun to see a figure standing only a few feet away from them. The hair stood up on the back of his neck. At first glance he thought it was a man, though it stood head and shoulders above even Nihim, who was the tallest of the group. Then he saw the reptilian visage, the cold black eyes regarding them with undisguised rage.

Davian’s eyes travelled down its body and he saw that rather than legs, it stood erect on a thick tail that trailed out behind it. Its skin was an oily dark green, almost black in the dull light of Deilannis. Thick, well-muscled arms stretched towards Dezia, who was closest to it.

Everything seemed to happen at once. There was an odd ripple of white light in the grey; Taeris screamed “No!” as the creature turned, distracted, a look of what could only be called surprise on its ugly face. Then it vanished.

Taeris rounded on Wirr, whose hands were still outstretched, his expression frozen in shock. The ripple faded, but Davian could see clearly that it had emanated from his friend’s body.

“You tried to use Essence, didn’t you!” Taeris hissed, looking as though he were about to strike the boy.

Wirr nodded, his face pale.

Balling his hands into fists, Taeris groaned as a cry went up from somewhere in the city. Unlike the other sounds they had heard, this was completely inhuman, a high-pitched keening that made Davian’s blood freeze.

Taeris turned to Caeden, and Davian knew the older man was now genuinely frightened.

“You know the way to the Northern Bridge?” he asked.

“I think so.”

Taeris pushed Caeden into motion, back the way they had come. “Then run.”

Caeden stumbled into a quickly accelerating jog, and Taeris turned to the others. “All of you, follow him and do not let him out of your sight! He knows the way out.”

Caeden was already disappearing down the street, and Davian didn’t need a second invitation. Aelric and Dezia set off at a dead run; Davian was close behind as another shriek sounded, this time much, much closer. Whatever was coming, it was moving faster than should have been possible.

Suddenly he realised that he could not hear Nihim or Taeris behind him. Risking a glance over his shoulder, he saw Nihim gripping Taeris by the arm, the two men talking in low tones. Davian hesitated, then turned, sprinting back towards them.

“Let me go, Nihim,” said Taeris furiously.

Nihim shook his head. “No.” He tugged on Taeris' arm. “There will be other chances, but if you leave those children to their fate, you’ll never forgive yourself.”

Taeris hesitated, his face a mask of frustration. “El damn you.” Then he spun, spotting Davian. “What are you doing?” he bellowed. “I said RUN!” He followed his own advice, and then the three of them were sprinting after the others.

The mist, which had barely been in evidence a moment ago, abruptly thickened to the point where Davian could only see a few feet ahead. Taeris and Nihim were lost to view. Suddenly Davian heard a muffled cry in front of him, and he had to leap to one side to avoid stumbling over a body writhing on the ground.

He stopped, kneeling. It was Nihim; the priest was holding his ankle, face twisted in pain.

There was another cry. The creature couldn’t be more than a few streets away now.

“Can you stand?” Davian asked in an urgent whisper.

Nihim sat up and pushed him hard in the chest. “Run, lad!” he said, wide-eyed. “There’s no point us both dying!”

“Neither of us is going to die.” Davian said the words more as a prayer than encouragement.

The mist was so thick now that even breathing felt difficult; he felt more than saw Nihim’s form, at one point stepping clumsily on the man’s arm. Muttering an apology, he grabbed the priest under his armpits and hauled him into the shelter of the nearest building, wincing as he dragged him over the shattered remains of the door.

This was one of the buildings blackened by fire, though the roof and all the walls were still intact. He propped Nihim up against the nearest wall, facing away from the street and hidden from the view of anything outside. Davian collapsed beside him, trying to slow his breathing, straining for any sound of approaching danger. There was nothing, though. The silence was eerie.

They stayed that way for several seconds. Then the dark mists swirling around them thickened even more and the shriek sounded again, this time so close it seemed to be right on top of them. Davian and Nihim sat motionless, barely daring to breathe.

After a few moments, Davian risked glancing out the door. The mist was getting… darker , eddying and churning until it seemed more like a cloud of black smoke than fog. He shuddered. The swirling darkness spoke of nothing but death and decay.

The air grew colder as Davian watched the darkness coalesce in the middle of the street, distending and contracting until it finally formed itself into the silhouette of a man. It was unlike any man Davian had seen before, though; its skin was completely black and seemed to glisten in the dull grey light. Its hands were curved and elongated, more claw-like than anything else, and its limbs and torso were unnaturally thin.

A horrible snuffling sound erupted from it; it turned and Davian sank back, covering his mouth in horror. Though its face was distorted by the fog, he could see that the creature had no eyes, a mouth filled with rows of razor-sharp teeth, and a gaping, circular hole where its nose should have been.