Mark Chadbourn - The Hounds of Avalon

Fifty yards ahead, the energy flows congregated just below the lip of the hill’s flat summit. As night fell, they began to run. In that same instant, a whispering rose up from the trees, echoing across the deserted hillside. They couldn’t make out the words, but there was something in the sound that made them feel sluggish and gloomy. They slowed to a walk, then stopped and looked around for the source.

‘What is that?’ Mallory asked.

‘I can feel it in my head,’ Sophie said. She swayed, mesmerised and suddenly overcome by melancholy.

Mallory grabbed her and forced her to look at him. ‘Don’t listen.’ He propelled her onwards as fast as she would go, scrambling over humps, tumbling through nettles, stinging and winding themselves. The unsettling whispering continued, unmistakably growing closer.

‘It’s hunting us,’ Sophie gasped. ‘What is it?’

‘Just concentrate on running.’ Mallory’s eyes darted around the hillside, but it was impossible to see clearly in the gloom.

They emerged from the trees and bushes on to a grassy slope where they had a clear view of a surging and spitting whirlpool of Blue Fire ahead.

‘That must be the entrance,’ Sophie said, gasping for breath.

The whispering was now so loud it felt as if it was filling Mallory’s head and pressing in on him from all sides. With it came a black despair urging him to give up. As he struggled to fight it off, a shape loomed out of the shadows of the trees. Mallory grabbed Sophie and pushed her behind him as he drew his sword.

‘What is it?’ Sophie said.

Mallory couldn’t answer. It looked like a walking corpse, a tall, thin man with otherworldly almond-shaped eyes whose body had been broken on a rack. The skeleton showed through at the ribs and the forearms and on the left side of its jaw. At first, Mallory thought it was brandishing a sword in each hand, but as it marched towards them, Mallory realised that the swords had actually been embedded in the thing’s wrists — the weapons were now a part of it. A luminous purple mist drifted from its mouth and ears and eked out of the corners of its eyes; it was the source of the whispering that was making them feel so despairing.

‘Now would be the time for a good spell,’ Mallory said.

‘You know it doesn’t work like that,’ Sophie replied. ‘I need time, ritual space…’

The warrior bore down on them, weaving its rusty, bloodstained swords in an intricate attack pattern. Mallory attacked it vigorously. It responded instantly, parrying and then thrusting. Mallory jumped back athletically and avoided the dual attack as the creature’s weapons cut rapidly back and forth like a bacon-slicer.

They battled for several minutes but the warrior didn’t appear to tire, and Mallory began to wonder if it was actually an animated dead thing. And its strength was astonishing. The twin blades crashed down on him like pile-drivers, jolting him to the bone. Only his Knight Templar training and whatever innate power lurked in his sword kept him alive.

As he manoeuvred to avoid another attack, his foot caught in a rabbit hole and he went down hard. The warrior poised to swing a sword towards Mallory’s head. In that instant, Mallory saw an opening. He managed to swing his sword in a short arc, hacking through the warrior’s left ankle.

The thing continued to attack as it fell, but it had been thrown off-balance. Even so, the flat of its sword still clipped Mallory’s temple, stunning him.

When he came around, Sophie was attempting to drag him up the slope. From further down the hill he could hear the sound of riders crashing through the undergrowth towards them.

Mallory lurched to his feet, his chest burning from the exertion of the fight. He tried to push Sophie towards the Blue Fire but her head was bowed, and when she looked up her eyes were crackling with sapphire energy.

‘It’s all right,’ she said. ‘This place is like a battery… I can draw on it…’

Mallory was unnerved by what he saw in her face — a primal fury about to be unleashed. Coruscating energy erupted out of her in a flash. When his vision cleared, there was a massive scorch mark across the slope and the warrior was nowhere to be seen. But from the trees the sounds of the riders drew closer, magnified as if their steeds were as big as rhinos.

‘Come on,’ Sophie said. ‘I’ve only bought us a few seconds.’

As Mallory and Sophie neared the whirl of Blue Fire, they heard the riders break from the tree line. Mallory turned to see three more of the hideous undead warriors, this time riding huge beasts that resembled horses but had scaly hides and cloven hooves.

Just as Mallory was preparing to make a last stand, the ground trembled and there was a sound like an avalanche as turf and soil tore back in a shower of earth and pebbles. In the gulf that opened up before them was revealed a majestic stone arch big enough to encompass four men standing on each other’s shoulders. Around it, the Blue Fire licked and sparked, but the centre of the arch was as black as space. Mallory had no time to contemplate it, for Sophie put one hand between his shoulder blades and shoved him into the gateway.

Pain made Mallory black out again as his ribs smashed against something hard. When he came around, he knew instantly that he was somewhere far removed from the slopes of Cadbury Hill. He had expected the air to be dank, but it had a sharp, fresh tang that was physically invigorating. He could smell tar-smoke from a torch more acutely than anything he had ever smelled before.

He was lying on smooth stone flags, ice-cold against his cheek. Levering himself up, his first impression was that he was sprawled in a temple, almost Egyptian in its scale and grandeur, with stone columns soaring into the shadows overhead and wall murals of breathtaking detail, the blues, golds and reds glowing in the flickering light of torches mounted at regular intervals all around. Sophie was at his side, just as mesmerised.

Incense drifted in their direction and Sophie stirred. ‘Are you OK?’ She helped Mallory to his feet; he winced.

‘No. Couple of cracked ribs from the fight. I’ll have to take it easy. Where are we?’

‘I don’t know. Feel up to having a look round?’

Sophie took one of the torches from the wall and led the way. The atmosphere grew more oppressive as they progressed into the heart of the temple. They couldn’t shake the impression that they were being watched, that someone or something was going to come upon them suddenly from behind. There was a disturbing hallucinogenic quality to everything; the edges of their vision were distorted and fragmented; the pounding of their hearts rose up and faded, echoing both within and without.

Their path was blocked by an enormous cat, easily as big as Sophie, with staring eyes as round and large as plates. Mallory and Sophie stopped sharply, but the cat didn’t move; it simply stared at them as if it could see right into their heads.

Mallory’s hand went to his sword, but Sophie stopped him. ‘Wait,’ she whispered.

‘That is the creepiest thing I’ve ever seen,’ Mallory said under his breath.

Beyond the cat the floor ended abruptly. Three paths moved away over the gulf, each one barely wider than a human foot.

‘It’s a test,’ Sophie whispered. ‘Whatever’s in there, they’re not going to let just anyone enter. We have to prove we’re worthy.’

‘It could be a test,’ Mallory agreed, ‘or it could be a booby trap to take out anyone who comes near the place. You get halfway along one of those paths and the thing crumbles under your feet. That’s if we can get past McCavity there.’

‘Why don’t you walk up to it and see what it does?’

‘Why don’t you? ’ Mallory considered drawing his sword, then decided Sophie was probably right. Whatever the thing was — and it certainly was not a cat, despite its appearance — there was no point in antagonising it.