torg 03- The Nightmare Dream (4 page)

The gospog were products of dark sorcery, creations of the Gaunt Man and Orrorsh necromancy. By planting the seeds provided by the Gaunt Man in specially prepared fields of corpses, Baruk Kaah and the other High Lords were able to harvest warriors that felt no pain, had no wants or desires save to serve their masters, and were unaffected by changes in reality. In fact, these gospog, grown within the reality of the Living Land, were wielding the weapons of Core Earth — machine guns and the like.

"That will surprise the Earthers," Baruk Kaah hissed. "They will be cut down by their own weapons as the gospog sweep across the storm front and into their reality." But, because they were created in the Living Land, the gospog would also add to the force that would activate the next stelae boundary. All they had to do was

cross into the bounded area, bringing the Living Land reality with them. Then another piece of Core Earth would belong to Baruk Kaah.

A series of leaves sprouted along one of the gospog's arms, and Baruk Kaah stopped to watch it grow, fascinated. The gospog was a mix of flesh and plant, with vines running through skin instead of veins, and thick roots emerging from the most unlikely parts of its body. He knew his people were frightened by the gospog, as they were created by the power of his Darkness Device, Rec Pakken — an instrument of the dead. But the High Lord saw the gospog as a confirmation of his goddess Lanala's power, because she had allowed living plant to grow out of the dead of this dead world. Of course, the leaves were unlike any plant he had ever seen before.

Baruk Kaah broke off his examination when the ravagon approached. It was the last of the three the Gaunt Man had originally assigned to him, and he almost wished that it too had fallen like its brethren. But until it did fall or was called back to Orrorsh, he would get the most use he could out of it.

"What is it now, ravagon?" the High Lord demanded.

The ravagon snapped its wings around its body, showing its own impatience. "The stalenger you sent to track the Earther named Paragon has been found."

The High Lord shook anxiously, too pent up with emotion to verbally order the ravagon to continue its report. A slight smile touched the demonkind's toothed maw.

"The stalenger is dead," the ravagon reported loudly. "Paragon killed it with an Earther weapon."

Now rage overtook the High Lord, and he barely managed to ask, "Is the singer dead as well?"

"No, I ligh Lord. Paragon was not found."

A mighty roar emerged from the High Lord's open mouth. "Attack, my children! Edeinos, stalenger and benthe, march toward the wall of storm! Lanala wants this world to be shown the ways of life, and we are her instruments! Attack!"

A female edeinos appeared from out of the Deep Mist and sank to her knees before theSaarof Takta Ker. It was one of his gotaks — the priests of the dead — Dar Ess, he believed she called herself. He would have made her wait before he acknowledged her presence, but he was impatient to get on with the conquest.

"Speak, Dar Ess," he ordered.

"Saar," she began haltingly, "what are your orders for the gospog and those of us charged with their handling?"

"Rise, gotak, and lead the gospog forward," Baruk Kaah said. "They shall lead our tribes into the dead land, cutting a path for the life that Lanala will give to it."

Dar Ess got to her feet, bowed to her High Lord, then disappeared into the mist to carry out her orders. Almost immediately the gospog began to move.

"Tell the Horn Master to be ready," Baruk Kaah ordered the ravagon. "Tell him that the Wild Hunt must fly again."

6

Tolwyn led the group through the jungles of Borneo, toward the western coast of the island. Bryce had been a little concerned when she first asked which way was sunward, but the dwarves explained that directions were different here, and that satisfied her. As more and more of her memories returned, Bryce realized how totally alien her own world was. What would they find when they eventually reached the place she called Aysle? Would he be able to function there? Or would the differences in reality drive him mad? He wondered how his own world must look to her, and he hoped that as the images of her past life came flooding back they didn't overwhelm her.

He was surviving reasonably well in this place called Orrorsh, so maybe this traveling from one reality to another wasn't as deadly to his sanity as he feared. After all, Kurst and Mara handled it like seasoned professionals. If they could do it, why shouldn't he and Tolwyn be able to?

Tolwyn, Tom and Pluppa walked at the head of the group, trying to find the path of least resistance while still staying on course for the sea. They had abandoned all but one of the horses when the jungle became too overgrown for them to safely pull the carriage. Now Toolpin and Djil led the remaining animal by its reins, directing it around obstacles as they tried to keep up with the rest of the group. The horse carried their few packs of supplies, and every so often it refused to take another step. When this occurred Djil was there, whispering to the horse and urging it forward. Bryce wondered how much longer the shaman would be able to coax the animal to continue.

Bryce wondered why he was wondering so much.

Mara, Grim, Gutterby and himself were in the middle of the line. Each of them constantly looked forward and back in order to keep the whole group in sight. High overhead the sun stood still, raining its burning rays down through the cover of ash. It had been day for over forty-eight hours, and the heat was becoming unbearable. But Tolwyn pushed on, and the rest of them had no choice but to follow her.

They walked in silence, conserving their strength and body moisture by keeping their mouths closed and their minds on the path ahead. They traveled like that for a long time, and Bryce began to get bored. He was hot, sweaty, and he was tired of tra ipsing through the jungle. So wrapped up was he in his own misery, the priest barely recognized the sudden change in the horse. But after a moment its fear-filled neighing registered through the haze of his own discomfit.

He turned to see Djil and Toolpin wrestling with the reins, trying to calm the horse. But the animal wanted no part of that. It was rearing up on its hind legs, trying to break free so that it could retreat back down the path. It obviously didn't want to go any further.

"What's wrong, Djil?" Bryce called.

"Something up ahead has frightened this animal," the shaman explained. "It is deathly afraid."

"Of what?" Bryce asked, but before anyone could answer him something crashed out of the trees along the side of the path.

It was a huge winged creature, and for a moment Bryce thought it was one of the ravagons that had been hunting them since they left Philadelphia. Maybe they hadn't killed them all, he thought, or maybe more had been dispatched to find them. But then he saw that it wasn't a ravagon. It was something far worse.

The creature stood over six feet tall. It was humanoid in shape, with overlapping wings that reminded the priest of a beetle's wings. The more he examined it, the more he was sure that the thing was an insect of some sort. But even the jungles of Borneo didn't produce insects of this size. It had to be an Orrorshan creature, and that meant they were in trouble.

Bryce, Mara, Grim and Gutterby were the closest to the creature, and it was toward them that the creature moved. It snapped great clawed pincers together as it skittered forward, and its wings made a loud chirping sound as they vibrated, like the sound of a thousand crickets singing together. It had no mouth or eyes as Bryce understood the terms, but it moved with a shambling purpose that hinted at some kind of sensory abilities.

"Grim, what spells can you use on this thing?" Mara asked as she produced her laser pistol from a hidden pouch in her jumpsuit. It looked awkward in her right hand, unsteady. But she leveled it nonetheless and fired a short burst at the creature.

The beam of intense light struck the creature in the shoulder, knocking pieces of its body to the ground. It backed away, but more to assess its opponents than to flee.

Bryce reached down to examine the pieces that fell from the creature. He gasped, and Gutterby moved closer to see what had upset him.

"It isn't flesh," Bryce stammered. "The thing is made of bugs!"

He held a handful of bug carcasses, dried husks of grasshoppers, locusts and beetles. With a shudder, he let the insects fall to the ground, and he involuntarily took a step backward.

"Bryce, look," Gutterby said, motioning toward the jungle.

Emerging from the trees were three more of the insect creatures. They skittered to stand beside the first one, and together the noise of their wings — wings formed from hundreds of insect carcasses — was deafening. Bryce looked closer, and he saw thousands of dead eyes focus upon him, peering out from the creatures' bodies.

The effect was disconcerting, and the monsters were abominations. He wanted to scream, but he forced himself to stay calm. His hands went in opposite directions. One clutched at the cross he wore around his neck; the other reached into his pocket to grasp the stone shard, all that remained of the I leart of Coyote.

Grim made arcane motions, and whispered words of power. His motions ended when he pointed at the insect monsters. While no visible effect was produced, Bryce was certain that something was happening. The insects shuffled nervously, and Grim seemed to be studying them intently.

"They smell of necromancy," Grim informed everyone with an expression of disgust. "They reek of entity magic. If only I'd studied the death knowledge, then I could be sure."

The insect monsters started moving forward again, their claws chittering, their wings humming excitedly.

"This way!" Tolwyn called from further up the path. "Hurry before they reach you!"

Gutterby and Grim obeyed Tolwyn's command, running as fast as their small legs would carry them. Mara hesitated, firing another blast from her pistol. "I'll hold them off until Djil and Toolpin reach us," she told Bryce.

The priest shook his head. "No, Mara," he said. "These things are dead. I've handled these things best so far, so it might as well be me. Get moving."

Bryce held his cross forward, trying to gather his faith as he had done the other times during their trek through this nightmare region. Mara kissed him gently on his cheek, then she followed the dwarves up the path.

"Come on, you two!" Bryce called to Djil and Toolpin. "I don't know if these things can be banished like the

banshees."

Perhaps they couldn't be banished, but the insects were keeping their distance. They seemed to have reached an invisible wall and could come no closer. Perhaps that wall was the range of the cross, but Bryce could only speculate. It never worked like this before the invasion. Still, such horrors had never threatened him before the invasion, either.

Djil and Toolpin led the horse past the break in the path where the insects stood. For a moment, it looked like they were going to get by them without a problem. Then one of the insect creatures leaped onto the horse. The animal's shrill screams filled the jungle as pincers formed from insect carcasses tore into the horse's flesh.

"Hey!" Toolpin yelled indignantly. "Stop that!" He swung his battle spike at the insect, hitting it solidly in the back. But no pieces flew from it. Instead, Toolpin bounced back. It was like hitting a stone wall.

Bryce lost his concentration for a split second as he automatically reacted to the falling dwarf. He reached out to steady Toolpin with his free hand, taking his eyes off the insects. In that instant, one of the creatures jumped forward. It smashed into the priest and the dwarf, and the three of them tumbled from the path into the thick foliage.