Guardian of the Moon Pendant (11 page)

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Authors: Laura J Williams

BOOK: Guardian of the Moon Pendant
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Lainahwyn’s voice carried through the tunnel, sweet notes of her song, singing in our ears, lulling us into her rapture.

“I snared an old one recently,” she said in a sing-song voice. “He smells of whiskey. Why do the old ones always smell of whiskey?”

The three of us backed away slowly from the direction of her voice, but it was too late. Three Màrmann had spotted us.

I froze with an eerie sense of dread creeping up my spine.

I whirled around and began to race through the bleak tunnel, listening to the echo of my footsteps bouncing off the labyrinth’s walls, fearing the Màrmann would catch up to us, only to realize I was running all by myself. I spun around, observing Fergus wrestling two of the Màrmann, his fingers curled tightly into a fist, punching at their fanged jaws, their bodies wailing in pain when he decked them.

“Fergus!”
I gulped, knees shaking as I watched him and John snapping their necks, their pasty bodies flopping to the floor.

“Why didn’t you run?” I asked, approaching Fergus, who was passionately trying to untie his father.

“‘
Tis easy to run,” he said, sweat dripping from his brow, “harder to stay and fight!”

The broken Màrmann moaned on the ground, slithering, joints popping, cracking their necks back into place. They were waking up!

Fergus kicked one of them in the stomach, hurling it back down to the ground, while the other two contorted their bodies back together. 

“Stop it, Fergus!” his father pleaded. “She’s here to get you! She needs more men!”

We felt an eerie prickling sensation on the back of our necks. We spun around, to be face to face with the demon named, Lainahwyn, standing just a few feet away from us. This time she didn’t look like a beauty queen. Her body had now transformed, a demon with lethal fangs flaring, her grey hair waving fiercely, thrashing out at us like venomous snakes, her eyes black as night, narrowing her glare on us, her skin a muted grey, scaly, and a reptilian tongue hissing from her lips.

“Run for it, boy!” howled Fergus’s father as five more Màrmann emerged from the smoky shadows behind her. 

We didn’t hesitate and instantly took to flight, sprinting through the dark and narrow passageways, twisting and turning, with the sound of the Màrmann’s scuffling feet echoing behind us, chasing us, growling at us, clawing at us, thirsting for our blood.

The light in the tunnel had changed dramatically, revealing the soft glow of twilight; up ahead was the exit out of Lainahwyn’s den. My heart thundered inside my chest as we raced toward the exit, scrambling as fast as we could to escape the attack.  

“Get out of here!” yelled Fergus, as he cracked his flashlight into one of the Màrmann’s temple, it spun around three times, and then collapsed listlessly to the ground, its body still slithering. Its plagued hand reached out, coiling its blistering fingers around Fergus’s ankle, yanking him down to the grassy ground on the cusp of the cave’s entrance, pulling him back into Lainahwyn’s lair.

John hoisted up a nearby
rock,
his arms strained from its heavy weight and then pummeled it down onto the Màrmann’s arm. Its corroded hand releasing its grip on Fergus, and then it withered away into the blackness of the cave.

An army of Màrmann manifested from out of the darkness, locking their eyes on us, their black lips drooling, their decaying arms spread wide open, herding around us, and awaiting their next orders. 

Fergus pushed me away toward the clearing, a knife in his hand, an angry sneer on his face, ready to do battle.

“Run!” I cried, watching them inch their undead festering b
odies closer and closer toward
John and Fergus.

“Never!”
Fergus hollered back, his knife jabbing at a large Màrmann who was clawing and lunging at him.

Vyx burst through the entrance of the cave, a deranged grin curving across his scarred face, his bloodshot eyes narrowed into a severe squint, looking around the melee. Focusing his anger on Fergus, he plowed through the Màrmann, snatching Fergus up by his neck, his feet dangling in the air, Vyx’s snout snarling like a bull about to trample his kill.

“I see you found yourself a wee lass named Izzy,” Vyx growled, his
grimy
fingertip pressing harder into Fergus’s neck, choking him coldly, his face turning beet red. Vyx scanned the area, his
ugly eyes finally fixing on me. S
eething
,
he tossed Fergus to ground then thundered forward. “You have something I need!”

I shuffled back on my feet, scrapping my boots against the dewy grass, losing my traction as I tried to escape. Vyx clasped onto my shirt, hoisting me high into the night’s sky, his stinky hot breath spewing into my face,
eww
, so foul.

I grimaced.

This is the second time I wanted to toss my cookies tonight. Gross.

“Where is it,
Iz
?” he prodded, shaking me viciously and then wrapping his meaty hand around my neck, covering up my black widow’s tattoo, “where’d you hide it?”

“Why, Vyx?” I gasped, trying to catch my breath with a few gulps of air. “It’s so nice to see you again.” My voice fell into a strained whisper, “How long has it been?”

“Stop toying with me!” he said angrily, tightening his grip around my delicate flesh.

“I remember now,” I said with a forced smile, “the last time I saw you was when you pushed me in front of that bus!”

“Listen, girl, you got everything you deserved,” Vyx said through gritted teeth, his jaw clenched so tightly the cords in his neck p
oked out
of his blotchy skin.

“And so did you,” I cried, my leg reared back, bending at the knee, slamming the tip of my boot into his genitals, his hands released me from his powerful
grip
, freeing me. I fell to the ground, watching him crumple over in pain, trying to secure the family jewels.

Running, Fergus catapulted himself on top of Vyx, putting him in a chokehold, wrestling him down to his burly knees. 

“Fergus!” cried John, lying on his belly, his arms flailing out, reaching, and scrapping at the dirt with his fingernails.

He was captured by the Màrmann, ripping at his clothes, shredding it to pieces as he tried to pull away from their death grip, gnawing at him with their piercing canine teeth into his raw skin, his body oozing blood, weakening with each cut as they tried to drag him into the cave.

The demon broke through the Màrmann like a dark eerie mist with her seething eyes, her fingers crooked open like scissors, displaying her sword-like straws, ready to drink her dinner. Crouching over John, her nails sliced through his neck, coldly, rich blood pulsing up her fingernails, hollow and vacuum-like, sucking out his life’s energy heartlessly, her eyes rolling back into her head, just like the junkie’s I’ve seen on the streets, when they finally get their fix.

“JOHN!” cried Fergus, releasing Vyx’s brawny neck and charging toward Lainahwyn.

Lainahwyn’s eyes darted up, hissing at Fergus, her tongue rattling, long and split at its end like a snake, it shot out from her mouth, lancing his neck, crippling him with her toxic venom, his body crumpled over, flopping to the ground.

Vyx sneered at me,
cracking
his head to the side, his body dripping in
sweat,
he rose back to his feet, his muscle mass charging toward me like a bull.

I sat there, frozen, not knowing whether to run or allow him to pound my face in. He sure looked angry.

“Take my hand!” said a familiar voice behind me. I twirled around and saw Anabel, saddled on top of a chestnut horse, its nose whinnying up as it pranced beside me. I threw my hand up, latching onto her arm, and promptly shimmied onto the horse’s back.

Vyx roared, flinging himself toward us. Anabel steered the horse away, its legs sidestepping away from Vyx as he fell face down into a blanket of purple heather.

Blane jumped through the Màrmann on a black stallion, a claymore’s blade clutched in his hands, raising it high above his head, swinging large circles as he swung it down at one of the Màrmann, slicing off his right arm.  

Lainahwyn sat unaffected, holding John’s limp body by her side, pale, deteriorated, all his blood drained from his lifeless body.

Blane’s stallion reared before Lainahwyn, its iron horseshoes hovering above her demonic head, her voice let out an unearthly wail as she crawled back into the cave, leaving John’s body alone in the chilly grass.

Blane’s horse galloped over to Fergus, his body convulsing uncontrollably from Lainahwyn’s venom, he scooped him up easily, laying him belly side down on the stallion’s back. His eyes shifted over toward John, his remains sprawled flat on the ground. The Màrmann swarmed around him, buzzing like bees, they were unaffected by the iron horseshoes, pouncing on top of John’s corpse like it was fresh meat, trying to quench their thirst for blood, tearing, hacking at his body, dragging him back into the demon’s cave of death.

Tears swelled in my eyes, my fingers trembling, reaching up to wipe away the waterworks, closing them tightly, saying a silent prayer in my head for John, hoping he didn’t suffer much.

Blane’s horse rode toward us. He pointed at white speck, motoring rapidly toward us from the mountainside.

A cloaked man cruised past us, straddling a black motorcycle with a sidecar made of bones, saluting us with two bony fingers, heading toward Lainahwyn’s lair.

“What is that?” I asked, rubbing my swollen eyes.

“The Ankou,” answered Blane. “The Portal is in a weakened state. Now he can pass through to claim the dead.”

We raced away from the cave, the horses striding at a quickened pace.

My heart mourned for the loss of John, but I felt a dagger pierce it when I thought that I could lose Fergus, too.

 

Chapter 8

♦♦♦

Anabel

Effortlessly, Blane hauled Fergus into the
c
astle, an infected body hanging over his broad shoulder, surging with poisonous venom, flailing uncontrollably on the verge of a catastrophic change into a Màrmann.

Cautiously, Slu peeked out from behind a door, fearing that something bad had happened, his large eye bulging with red veins shooting out from his steely-blue iris like the rays of the sun.

“Go get Leigheas and the Heathers,” ordered Blane to Slu, his eye twitching in surprise. He turned swiftly, bobbing down the hallway on his lone leg.

Blane dumped Fergus into a wooden chair, a distant stare haunting his eyes, his arms jerking wildly, frenziedly, coughing and choking up black phlegm.

Five heather pixies zipped into the room, exploding like confetti, a stream of violet dust trailing behind them, their bodies covered in purple heather, small and dainty, fluttering their shear wings like yellow bumble bees.

Izzy rushed to Fergus’s side, her fingers intertwined with his. “Why didn’t you take us back to Granny’s?” she yelled at Blane, rubbing away the clammy beads
off
Fergus’
forehead.

Blane stood over Fergus. “Having her drain your blood is one thing. Getting a dose of her venom is another. We must get the venom out,” he said, “Before...”

Fergus’s eyes began to dart rapidly around the room, unexpectedly, he lurched forward, swinging his fists violently, clipping Blane in the chin, knocking him back two steps. Blane rubbed the
welt
on his chin, nodding to the heather pixies, flittering above Fergus, roots sprung out from their hands and feet, thick vines coiling around Fergus’s chest, arms, and ankles, strapping him securely into the chair, his body jarring, legs kicking wildly, fighting the restraint.

Izzy wedged her finger tips under rope-like vines, trying to tear them off Fergus. “What the hell is wrong with you?” she screamed, ripping at the entangled roots.

Blane nodded again and two of the heather pixies shot their snarling roots into the air, braided green stems hooking around Izzy, anchoring her down into another wooden chair.

“Let me go!” shrieked Izzy, jostling in the high backed chair.

“Calm yerself, lass,” stated Blane. “The heather’s grip will only tighten the more you struggle.”

Izzy’s face went beet red, throwing her body left to right, screaming, “What the hell is this place, a prison?”

“Blane?”
I said softly, touching his arm, feeling his hard bulging biceps.

Blane tensed from my touch.

Give me strength
, I sighed to myself. I was hoping he’d be able to explain his actions.

A mist of twinkling lights developed next to Fergus, Leigheas appeared from out of nowhere within a sparkling cloud.

“Leigheas will remove the Lainahwyn’s venom from your friend,” stated Blane, working a jaw in his mouth.

“Then what, Braveheart?” snipped Izzy.
Her body leaned forward, pressing against her coiled restraints, digging deep into her bare skin. “You’re gonna throw us down into the dungeon and eat our flesh?”

“Izzy,” I said, irritated by her bad manners. “Blane’s here to help us.”

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