The Collector of Remarkable Stories (24 page)

In those few fleeting moments when Archie came face to face with the Malignant, he tried to take in as much information as he could about the creature. It was huge and terrifying, each tooth in its slime-filled jaws as long as his forearm. It had a huge scar snaking down its face. In that moment he realised that it was in fact one of the most feared of the Malignants - a warrior of warriors.

Archie primed himself ready to attack when a second Malignant crashed to the ground several feet away, a crossbow arrow through its neck. In the moments it took Archie to register what had happened, a second arrow sliced into the neck of the Malignant which stood before Archie.

The injured Malignant threw its head back momentarily in shock and Archie made his move. He didn't even question where the arrows had come from. He charged then dug his daggers deep into the Malignant's chest. The creature swayed momentarily before collapsing to the ground.

Archie swung round. He couldn't see where the crossbow arrows had come from. The only Defenders he could see were lying helplessly on the ground.

Almost instantaneously the noise and the darkness began to dissipate. The Malignants were retreating. Within minutes, the sky was clear, calm and empty. As if nothing had happened.

Shielded by the body of the Malignant, Archie sat with his back to the portal, wondering how it had all gone so wrong. Never in his wildest dreams had he imagined such an onslaught. Even with an army of thousands of highly trained soldiers, he would not have been able to fight them off. He took a moment to gather his thoughts then surveyed the battle ground. It was littered with the badly injured bodies of his friends and comrades.

A shout brought him back into focus. It sounded like Rohland. Archie jumped up and raced towards the centre of the grotto bellowing Rohland's name.

Rohland, who was attending to one of the injured men, stood up and waved his raised arm. "Here," he yelled. "Come quickly."

Then in a startling flash of motion a huge Malignant swooped out of nowhere and snatched Archie up in his huge talons. Up and up it carried the screaming man until they were both almost out of sight. And then the Malignant released him.

From her hiding place, Margie could only watch in horror as he fell to the ground, landing with a sickening thud. There he lay motionless, his limbs reaching out at nauseating angles. The Malignant, still with a crossbow impaled in its neck, wasn't finished. It circled the injured man, screaming and flailing him until finally a second crossbow pierced its head. The Malignant managed to fly several yards before crashing to the ground in a lifeless heap.

Margie dropped the crossbow, her hands still shaking, then launched herself in Archie's direction. She was quickly joined by a handful of other Defenders who had cautiously emerged from their own hiding places. There was no sign of Rohland as Margie stroked Archie's face. Tears rolled down her face. The Malignants' attack was immensely unfair. They weren't even soldiers. That much was clear now, even to Margie. And what of his promise to help her? Once again Margie felt abandoned. It seemed that everyone she ever came into contact with in Limbuss was doomed to ruin.

Around Margie, the Defenders and Viljar quietly wandered round the battleground, checking for signs of life. With heavy hearts and lead boots, they removed weapons and items of clothing and placed them neatly in a pile close to Margie.

Only one question seemed to be on everyone's lips: why had the Malignant's turned back?

"Makes me nervous," said one of the Defenders, a medieval cobbler by the name of Bennett.

"They're like the Comanche Indians. Have you ever heard of them?" asked Viljar.

Margie shook her head.

"They were the most ferocious of all the Native American tribes. Very successful at what they did. If you were unlucky enough to be caught by them you would be tortured in the most horrible way."

"Men, women, children, babies. Skinned, sliced, diced, roasted, scalped!" chimed in Bennett, one eye on his wounded arm, the other on the sky overhead.

"What exactly has this got to do with the Malignants?" asked Margie.

"The Comanche Indians fought to the death," said Viljar. "And so do the Malignants. They would
never
turn back. They would
never
run from a battle. I can't put my finger on it, but something's not right. I have a bad feeling."

Margie had a bad feeling too but only because she knew the answer. She didn't know how, she just knew the Malignants were running away from something even more ferocious and even more terrifying than themselves. At that moment she felt something she hadn't felt in a long time; an icy breath on her back and a deep and wicked sigh. For the first time since her arrival in Limbuss Margie wondered exactly what it was that she was carrying within her? Just what kind of terrifying vision was it that would make an entire army of demonic warriors turn and run in the opposite direction?

She didn't have time to dwell on it because all of a sudden the Malignant which had lain dead just yards away lifted its head and emitted one final terrifying scream. Filled with rage and frustration, Margie grabbed one of the swords from the 'death' pile and lifted it above her head. Before she could bring it down on the Malignant's neck, someone grabbed her arm. It was Rohland. He studied her face silently, thoughtfully then slowly, gently let her arm go.

The sword came down quickly, severing the Malignant's head.

It was a good omen. As the Malignant's body fell still, Archie's shattered body jerked to life. Margie hurriedly thrust the sword into the Malignant's neck effectively pinning it to the ground, then raced to Archie's side. He was attempting to sit up but as soon as he saw Margie he turned away.

"Here, let me help you," cried Margie.

"Go away!" replied Archie, barely even casting a sideways glance in her direction.

Margie understood immediately. "You shouldn't feel bad about what happened. It wasn't your fault. There was no way you could have fought off that many Malignants."

"Go away," he spat. "Help the others. Make yourself useful."

Margie brushed the sand off her hands pensively then rubbed the back of her neck. Did he really mean that? She stood up and looked around. Had anyone else heard that?

Nearby, Rohland was tightening a strap on one of his boots. He motioned with a flick of his head for Margie to join him.

"Leave him for a while," he said. "He'll come round."

Margie liked Rohland. There was something about his tattoos - or was it his hair? - that reminded her of something; a memory that she couldn't quite grasp.

"I underestimated you," said Rohland standing up. He put his arm around Margie's shoulder and guided her away from Archie. "You probably saved him back there."

"Only probably?"

Rohland laughed. "You're a great shot. Where did you learn to do that?"

Margie shook her head. "Who knows."

"Well, it was impressive anyway."

Margie studied Rohland's hands. "You don't carry a physical punishment." It was more of a question than a statement.

Rohland shook his head. "I used to. A long time ago."

Before Margie could probe any further, a shadow figure caught her eye. Disappearing behind a tree it was there one moment, gone the next. Margie shivered. She'd seen such shadow figures before.

"Have you ever been reassigned?" she whispered to Rohland looking over her shoulder.

"Quite a few times," he replied, looking over her shoulder too.

"Really?"

"Not so much now. I prefer the easy life these days!"

Margie recalled the Shadow Herders she had seen near Grandma Doyle's caravan with their menacing cloaks and shadowy faces. She had been terrified at the way they dragged people off into the darkness never to be seen again. She looked back at the spot where she had seen the shadow but something even more startling caught her eye. For a second or two, Margie couldn't grasp what she was seeing. The Giant, completely healed, was towering over Archie; a pike from the battle pressed firmly into Archie's throat.

She was overjoyed to see The Giant alive and well, but horrified by his apparent attack on Archie. "What are you doing Giant? Stop it!" she cried.

The Giant looked at Margie gravely. "We has to get out of here. We has to hurry. He's no good to you; he's no good to neither of us."

"Why?" demanded Margie. "Tell me!" She took a few steps forward but stopped when The Giant pressed the pike further into Archie's neck. "He ain't no good, Margie. I'm telling you."

Rohland grabbed Margie's arm and tried to pull her back. But Margie wasn't afraid. She marched over to The Giant and snatched the pike right out of his hands. "You're a fool, Giant! You have no idea what you're saying. Look at him. Does he look like he's a danger to me? Poor Archie, he was nothing but kind to you when you were injured. Now
he
is injured and all you can do is stick a spear in his neck. Well, shame on you."

The Giant looked around at all the exhausted faces staring back at him and a single tear rolled down his cheek. Using his sleeve as a makeshift handkerchief, he lifted his arm to his face and was suddenly confronted by all manner of pikes, guns and crossbows aimed in his direction.

"It's okay," said Margie to the weary, agitated army of men, "he's with me."

The distant scream of a Malignant tore through the camp. Rohland lifted his arms. "Enough of this," he shouted. "We can't stay here. We have work to do. None of us knows when the Malignants will return. We need to get everyone back to camp." The Defenders didn't need telling twice and immediately set to work.

"Giant," said Rohland looking The Giant up and down. "Could you guard the portal while we take the wounded back to camp? Use this horn to call us if you see anything suspicious. Anything at all. Got it?"

The Giant looked across at Margie. It was clear he didn't want to do anything of the sort.

"He will," said Margie, her jaw set resolutely. And that was that.

A Fresh New Plan

The next few days passed in a sombre silence. The injured were carried back to camp, their wounds cleaned and bandaged. No one talked about what had happened, but all of them wondered what the future held. The portal didn't belong to them; if the Malignants took control of it, it would be of little consequence to anyone in Limbuss. No one would even know, but in the world of the living, the Malignants (unseen by human eyes) would wreak havoc.

On the portal steps, meanwhile, The Giant fumed. How could Margie have been so mean to him? Phagge had been right all along. Archie
was
a rotten egg; why else would Margie have turned against him? Why else would she have let Rohland talk to him like that?

"I hate you!" he muttered to himself ripping some thorns off the branch of a prickly desert plant. "I
hate
you. I
hate
you ..."

Suddenly, a low snarling sound caught The Giant's attention. He peered across the courtyard in the direction of a large rock. There he saw a large undefined shadow stretching out from behind it.

"Who's there?" he shouted.

"Don't be afraid, I mean you no harm," growled the creature. "Your friend, the mechanical spider, asked me to find you and direct you to the Darkest of All Places."

The Giant stepped forward excitedly, his hands clasped as if in prayer. "Oh Spider Beast. I knew you wouldn' let me down."

"Silence," demanded the voice. "If we are to succeed then you must follow my instructions without question."

The Giant fell silent. "Who are you?"

The shadow slowly emerged from behind the rock. It was Alpha, one of the most feared Dog Beasts.

The Giant froze.

"Don't be afraid," said Alpha. "I'm not here to hurt you. I give you my word."

"How do I know you ain't a bad one?" asked The Giant.

Alpha walked slowly towards The Giant, his head bent submissively low. When he reached The Giant, he opened his mouth and a small object fell out. It was a tattered, leather satchel; the one Margie had sought so desperately in the Emporium.

The Giant picked up the bag and studied it as though studying a rare and delicate flower. "What I got to do?" he whispered happily. "Tell me and I won't let you down."

Dusk was falling in the camp as Margie changed the dressing on Archie's leg.

"Thank you," he whispered.

Margie ignored him.

"For everything. I behaved like an idiot when I actually have so much to thank you for."

"You have nothing to thank me for. You were lucky."

"You're blushing."

"Am I?" she asked betraying no emotion.

Archie pulled himself up onto his elbows. "The reason I never went in search of Nyabinghi and John was because I knew in my heart that they'd gone back home. To their own people. She never loved me the way I loved her. I was her liberator, her knight in shining armour. Nothing more."

Margie tore the end of the bandage and tied a knot in it. She pulled it tight. Very tight. Archie took a sharp intake of breath.

"Where did you learn to do that?" he asked tightly, his lungs filled with the air he'd just inhaled.

Margie shrugged.

Archie lay back down slowly, his body still shaky and weak from his fall.

Margie tucked the loose end of the bandage in then gave it a final check for any creases. She was still angry with Archie but she was more angry with herself for the way she was behaving right now. She turned to face Archie. There was something about his helplessness that filled her with love for him. Her forehead creased as she mentally berated herself; and she suddenly felt embarrassed and ashamed. How is it, she thought, that a man can suddenly make you lose all sense and judgement. That the smallest drop of affection can poison your logic and make the smallest indiscretion, the innocuous twitch of an eyebrow, seem like a fully fledged call to war. She desperately wanted to say sorry, but she knew that Archie wasn't thinking about
her.

"She
must
have loved you. Who wouldn't?"

Archie choked back a sob. For a long time he didn't say anything, a furrowed brow of pain the only clue as to what he was thinking. Eventually he spoke.

"She wasn't waiting for me when I got here." He shook his head. Incredulous. "It was a shock. I'd spent my entire life thinking about her; looking forward to the day I died so I could see her again and tell her how sorry I was for not saving her that day. And when it finally happened she wasn't there." He looked at Margie with an embarrassed smile. "I don't blame her."

A flash of anger crossed Archie's face. "But I do blame Carter. I chased him in life and I chase him in death. One day I will find him."

"How can you be sure he's even here?"

"I know he is. He uses the portal to trade between the two worlds."

"Is that why you fight for control of the portal?"

"No! If the Malignants gained control of the portal it would be a disaster. They are Demons. The world doesn't need any more of those."

"What will you do if you ever find him?"

"
When
I find him."

"
When
you find him ..."

"I don't really know."

Margie stretched her back. She'd been sitting at an awkward angle for too long and she suddenly felt uncomfortable.

"It feels different. Like it's weighted down with rocks," she said.

Archie suddenly remembered Margie's journey and the promise he'd made her. He sat up quickly. "You have to go," he told her. "I will send Eddie to accompany you until I'm well enough to join you myself."

Margie didn't have chance to answer him before their conversation was cut short by the droning sound of a horn.

Moments later Rohland burst into the tent accompanied by Viljar. "It's The Giant," he said breathlessly. "I'm taking some of the men to investigate. Viljar will stay here with you two." And with that he was gone. The camp was enveloped in an eerie silence; nothing but the sound of The Giant's alarm call. Neither Margie, Archie or Viljar could bring themselves to speculate on what Rohland might find.

At the Grotto, Rohland ground to a sudden halt when he saw The Giant (still clutching the tatty satchel) standing arrogantly in front of the portal. No Malignants. No sign of struggle. Rohland instantly sensed trouble.

As the Defenders came crashing through the clearing behind him, Rohland raised his arm, stopping them in their tracks.

"Giant," called Rohland. "Why did you blow the horn?"

"The Giant was following orders," barked Alpha as he emerged from behind the rock.

Rohland's face hardened. "You stupid, foolish Giant," he hissed. "You have no idea what you have done."

Alpha laughed and several more Dog Beasts emerged from the shadows.

The Giant's face crumbled. This hadn't been the plan. This was not what Alpha had told him would happen. Why were the other Dog Beasts here? How could he have been so foolish?

Rage exploded inside him like a hand grenade and flew out of him like a swarm of angry bees. Stupid, stupid, stupid! How could he have been so stupid! He had to get to Margie. And quickly.

The Giant stuffed the satchel into the waistband of his trousers and slowly, determinedly walked towards Rohland.

Alpha issued a low, ominous growl.

The Giant stopped. He was now looking directly into the face of Rohland. Surrounding him were around eight fully armed Defenders.

Rohland was struck by The Giant's bravery, or was it stupidity? Not everyone would dare turn their back on Alpha. Those that did, rarely lived to tell the tale. Even so, he could only muster pity for The Giant, who reminded him of a cornered animal. He would have put him out of his misery if it wasn't for Margie and Archie.

Instead he gave The Giant a small nod. It was a nod that spoke a thousand words. It was a nod that said, 'do it. Run. Go
now ...
before I change my mind'.

The Giant didn't need telling twice. He raced forward, brushing past Rohland and disappeared into the undergrowth. As he ran, he could hear Alpha shout 'catch him', and then the sound of battle.

He knew he didn't have long. It was only a matter of time before the Dog Beasts were in hot pursuit. By the time The Giant reached the camp, however, Margie was nowhere to be seen. The camp lay in ruins and Archie and Viljar lay still and silent on the ground.

The Giant searched frantically for Margie amid the chaos, becoming ever more desperate as the minutes passed. He could hear the Dog Beasts in the distance; their wolf-like barks sending pangs of terror through his body.

The Giant cupped his mouth and shouted Margie's name.

"She's gone," whispered a voice croakily. It was Archie. He pointed to a small path leading out of the camp. "That way. The Dog Beasts followed her. Tell her that I will come for her. I will find her."

Thankful and relieved, The Giant agreed.

"Promise me," begged Archie.

"Cross my heart and hope to die," he replied before scuttling into the darkness. If only he'd known how things would turn out; he might not have been so quick to make that particular promise ...