The Curse of Deadman's Forest (35 page)

“My three sisters perished eons ago, but I survived the birth of my child. And the gods help me, I loved my daughter as much as any mother would love her babe, even though from the moment of her birth I knew her to be evil to the core.

“To protect her and others, I’ve held her here within this
forest for three thousand years. But today the prison I built for her will be destroyed.”

As if to emphasize this, outside there was yet another explosion.

Ian’s mind wanted to reject these claims. How could this be true? The professor had said that all the maidens who had given birth to Demogorgon’s offspring had died. And that had been
well
over three thousand years before. How could any mortal live so long?

The crone regarded him thoughtfully, as if she were reading his mind. “As the years passed, the healing power within me that saved my life during that awful laborious night has grown stronger. It is how I have lived so long. It is why I can heal your friend. And it is also a power I am able to pass along.”

“I don’t understand,” Ian said to her, but even as he said the words, he saw over the crone’s shoulder that Eva had moved to Carl and was holding him exactly the way the crone had held her. “Take this,” said the old woman, and she let go of Ian’s face long enough to press something into his palm. “You will need it for the rest of your journey.”

“But …,” Ian protested, looking down at his hand to see the sundial, with only one thick shadow on the surface now pointing directly to the left of the crone, where Eva crouched with Carl.

“There is a place that you must go,” continued the crone, her speech quickening and her eyes pulling Ian back intently. “It is the place of my birth. It is the place where the Guardian and the One must eventually seek their own
truths. Remember that, Ian. You must enter the mist and seek its wisdom. The choice of who goes first will be left to you, but I should think it wise for the Guardian to question the mist before the One.”

Ian squinted at the crone. He had no idea what she was talking about.

She smiled sadly again and stroked his hair. “You will understand in time,” she assured him. “Take faith that the questions you ask within the mist will be the right ones to ask in the end.”

He nodded dully at her and the crone moved away to the door. There she paused to look soberly back at him. “I come from Ynys Môn, Ian. Enter the fog. Search for the answers to unlock your past and see your quest advanced.” With that, the crone turned and moved onto the bridge as yet one more explosion rocked their world.

Ian stumbled and fell as the tree holding their house shook violently and a rain of debris pelted the wooden shack. When he looked up again, he had a clear view through the door. The crone stood on the edge of the platform, her arms raised and a strange tumble of words coming out of her mouth. Ian strained to hear what she was saying, but his ears were still ringing from the most recent explosion. With determination, he scrambled to his feet and hurried to the door.

He caught himself in the doorway as yet a fourth stone was blown to pieces. Forced to shield his head from raining debris, he attempted to call out to the crone, but the breath caught in his throat when he realized that below, the earth
was no longer simply churning; it was bubbling and roiling as if it were a cauldron of boiling liquid.

Above the ringing in his ears, he heard the sound of a thousand roots being ripped from the ground, and a great gap opened wide to reveal a monstrosity like none he could possibly have imagined.

A giant form lifted itself out of the ground, its skin pinkish gray and wrinkled, with dozens and dozens of roots shooting straight out at odd angles all along its arms, neck, and head. The creature’s hair was made of long shanks of gnarled leafless branches, and its face was sharp and pointed, and it reminded Ian of a turnip.

Its black eyes were beady and cruel, and as it rose triumphantly from the ground, Ian realized with a sudden heart-pounding terror that he was looking directly into the eyes of Lachestia the Wicked!

Nearby, the crone stopped her chanting and looked back at him over her shoulder one last time. “I shall leave you one final gift, lad. May it be enough to see Theo to safety.” And then the old woman fell forward in a graceful swan dive straight off the platform.

Ian gasped in horror as he attempted to reach out to stop the crone, but he was too late. He watched as she fell in perfect time to the rising of the evil sorceress. The pair met in midair, and Lachestia, wrapping her long spiny arms around the old woman, shouted in triumph when she clutched the crone, and snarled, “Hello, Mummy!”

The sorceress squeezed the crone like a python, crushing the very life right out of her. The old woman struggled in her
daughter’s arms, and Ian leaned over the lip of the bridge as he cried, “No!” but nothing could help the crone now.

The ancient one’s head fell back limply, her mouth hanging open while she gasped for air. And all the while, Lachestia laughed and laughed and sank slowly back toward the earth.

Ian thought for certain that the old woman had already died when, suddenly, the crone raised both her fists high overhead. Something she held in each hand glinted in the morning light. Lachestia stopped laughing abruptly just as the crone brought her fists down sharply, using the last of her strength to plunge two small daggers into her daughter’s eyes.

There was a scream so terrible that Ian fell to his knees and covered his ears, barely managing to crawl quickly back into the house. When the noise had mercifully faded away, he looked up into the stunned faces of Theo, Eva, and a very well-looking Carl and announced, “The crone is dead and Lachestia has risen. We must leave at once!”

M
agus the Black stood still as a statue, lost in thought at the edge of Deadman’s Forest. His eyes were closed while he focused on what was happening deep within the trees. There was one individual he was most concerned with, and as he stood there, he could sense her life force flutter out like the flame of a candle against a strong current of air.

Magus smiled evilly. His aunt the crone was dead. And as Lachestia was the only thing capable of killing the crone, that could only mean that the tanks he’d so ingeniously arranged to destroy his sister’s prison had accomplished their task. The curse binding his sister had been lifted.

The sorcerer’s smile spread even wider. He’d done it. He’d freed the sorceress of earth. And because it was prophesized that Lachestia would kill the Guardian and bring about the fall of the One, Magus’s plans were all but complete.

So it was with great confidence that he stepped into the very woods he would not have set foot in even an hour
before. The threat to him no longer existed. He had only to meet up with his wicked sister and convince her to find and destroy the Guardian and all would fall into place.

The sorcerer could hardly wait to tell his sire of his great success. And the only thing he looked forward to more was the look on Caphiera’s face when she learned of her clever brother’s deed. Surely Demogorgon would soon favor Magus above all his siblings.

Screams echoed out of the dark woods and gunfire erupted half a kilometer ahead. Magus’s mood improved a fraction more. “Ah,” he sighed contentedly as he made his way forward. “The perfect start to a perfect morning. Death, pain, and perhaps later, a bit of torture.” And it was with these thoughts that he quickened his pace—not wanting to miss a moment of fun.

I
an launched himself across the room and lifted Theo off her knees. “We
must
leave here at once!” he repeated.

“What’s happening?” Carl asked, his brow still wet but his eyes clear.

“No time to explain,” Ian said, holding tightly to Theo’s hand while he dashed back to the door. Looking over his shoulder at Carl and Eva, he asked, “Can you both run?”

Eva stood and nodded firmly. Carl wobbled as he got to his feet and nearly fell down again. Eva moved quickly to his side and pulled his arm around her neck. “I’ll help him,” she promised.

By Ian’s side, Theo screamed. Ian whipped his head around to stare down at the ground, which was a churning mass of earth. Small clods of dirt shot into the air and pelted the tank attempting to back up out of the slippery mess. The roiling ground underneath prevented it from making any headway.

A German soldier opened the lid of the tank and they
could all see his wide, frightened eyes while he stared at the ground churning about his panzer. Suddenly, a gap directly underneath the tank opened and began to spread wider and wider, until the armored vehicle tipped onto its side and fell into the chasm with the soldier clinging desperately to it. In the next instant the ground closed up, and with a tremendous crunch, both the tank and its driver were no more.

Other soldiers on the ground dashed forward out of the woods to investigate, and as they drew close to the point where the tank had just been, small gaps in the earth opened underneath their very feet, and one by one, they began to disappear into their own early graves.

Ian and the others were too stunned by the scene below to move for several moments, especially when one soldier darted away from a hole only to be caught by a large spiny hand that erupted out of the earth and pulled him kicking and screaming underground.

“Gaw!” he heard Carl gasp. “That’s frightful!”

It was all Ian needed to hear to pull him out of his own horrified stupor. “Come on!” he called, and moved out onto the platform, searching for the tree that held the ladder. But as they approached it, the earth beneath the trees that suspended the wooden bridge began to churn, causing the trees to pitch, as if the trees were being torn out by their very roots. And then the branches began to sag and dip inward, and the bridge that Ian and the others were on buckled and started to crumble.

“We can’t go that way!” Theo shouted as the tree with
the ladder pitched forward and creaked in a slow fall down. “Run the other way!”

They turned as one and bolted for the opposite end. Behind them Ian heard a crash as branches snapped and limbs broke away from their trunks. The platform they were on started to break apart right underneath them, and Ian felt like he was running uphill. “Get to that tree!” he cried, pointing to one that supported a rope ladder.

He pulled Theo roughly along, willing himself to make it in time. They had mere meters to go when more crashing sounded and their platform pitched sideways, nearly dislodging all four of them.

Ian flattened himself against the wood and gripped the top edge tightly with one hand while holding on to Theo with the other. She screamed in terror and he prayed that he could hold on to her long enough to swing her back toward the platform. He saw Eva and Carl pitch forward and he cried out as they both swung over the top of the planks and disappeared from view.

“Carl!” he shouted.
“Carl!”

“We’re here!” he heard his friend call back from just below him.

Ian let out an anxious breath and concentrated on pulling Theo to safety. He swung her into his torso and said, “Use me to climb up!”

Theo clung to his shoulder and slowly worked her way to the top of the planks. Ian then pulled himself up and looked over the edge. Eva and Carl were dangling precariously on a
nearby branch. “Can you make it to the ladder?” he asked them, pointing to the rope and wooden rungs, which were nearly within their reach.

Carl turned his head awkwardly, sweat glistening on his forehead as he swung himself up to straddle the branch before helping Eva up too. “I believe so,” he said, motioning for Eva, who was in front of him, to go first. Ian saw that she was terrified, but she managed to move down the branch toward the rope. He hoped anxiously that she would get there before the tree they were in tumbled to the ground.

Below them, more and more soldiers were shouting in terror as they attempted to run away from the whirlpool of swirling earth. It seemed that every few seconds another of them was sucked down into the dirty depths.

Ian urged Eva to hurry. He knew they were running out of time. The brave girl scooted her way closer and closer, then stopped just feet away from the ladder, which was hanging at an odd angle away from the branch. “I can’t!” she said, her voice hoarse. “I can’t reach it!”

“Try!” Ian commanded. “Eva! You’ve got to try!”

The poor girl began to sob and she shook her head vigorously. “I’ll miss it!”

Carl had moved right up behind her and he was doing his best to coax her along. “Just reach one arm out, Eva,” he said calmly. “One hand to stretch to the ladder is all it will take. You won’t fall. I’ll hold on to you. I promise.”

But Eva’s panic was rising and she continued to cry and shake her head. “Carl!” Ian yelled, his heart racing as he felt their time running out.
“Make
her grab the rope!”

Carl ignored him and continued to speak softly to her. To Ian’s immense relief, the method worked. Eva finally reached a tentative hand out, stretching for the rope, but just as her fingers were within reach of it, the platform gave another tremendous jolt and he and Theo were sent over the top again.

Theo lost her grip and fell. Ian reached frantically for her and just managed to catch her by the arm. She screamed and begged for him not to let go as she dangled twenty feet above the swirling ground.

But Ian’s own grip on the platform was slipping, and he knew he could no longer hold both their weight. He looked about frantically for something nearby and saw that Carl had got Eva safely onto the rope ladder and was inching his way back down the branch toward him and Theo. “Hold on, mate!” Carl called. “I’m coming!”

But Ian didn’t know if he
could
hold on. He closed his eyes and focused all his effort on gripping the platform. His fingers were numb and his arm throbbed with the strain. And then, by some miracle, Theo’s weight was lifted from his grasp. He opened his eyes and saw Carl balancing atop the branch right under them as he brought her down to the safety of the branch.