The Living Night (Book 2) (41 page)

Stomping past the guards, he began the last leg
of the descent.

Once deep within the nest of old stone
passageways, he knew just where to go. After making his way into a chamber
built to house the remains of a long-dead Dark Lord, he triggered a hidden
panel. Moving into the darkness beyond, he entered the territory of the Sabo. He
had no fear of the creature itself, or of the parasites that lived within it,
for Sarnova had taken him here many times in the past and the Sabo recognized
him as a friend. Of the Balaklava, however, he
was wary. About that he’d lied to Blackie’s soldiers. But he would not let his
fear of Junger and Jagoda eclipse his purpose.

Swiftly, he moved through one tunnel after
another, crossing over a bridge here and climbing a flight of stairs there, at
all times keeping his senses sharp for other sounds. Sure enough, it wasn’t
long before he heard strange noises coming from a source he’d never heard
before.

He popped his head out from behind a wall and
made a quick study of the area beyond. What he saw in the instant before he
pulled his head back one of the several large chambers that the Sabo used to
snare its victims. There were the long chains and there, up high, the rusted
cages where many a mortal had spent his last moments in utter terror. But these
were sights that Kharker had seen before.

What attracted his attention was the strange
creature climbing up to one of those cages, using its countless arms and
appendages to grasp many chains at once. Made of interwoven human and immortal
bodies, its shape seemed fluid. Of course, this must be what had everyone so
afraid, Sarnova included. This creature, this thing, had been fashioned by
Junger and Jagoda for some grim purpose.

Why was it climbing to the cages above? Then
Kharker thought he understood. It was
practicing
.
This was a drill. Memories returned to him of times spent in various armies
throughout the world, most recently of his time spent in World War Two Germany,
with Ruegger as his great and evil companion. Yes, companion. That was the
word. Not pupil, as Ruegger liked to think of it now. Hell, if anything, the
Darkling had taught Kharker some things! But that is what this thing was doing,
wasn’t it? Practicing for a time when it would need to know how to climb those
chains—for a time when it was at war.

Who was there to make war upon?
Sarnova, for one.
Surely Junger and Jagoda weren’t preparing
to attack the Dark Lord! Even
they
weren’t that bold.

It was a question for another time. What Kharker
wondered now was whether or not this thing had a mind of its own. Had Junger
and Jagoda actually given it the power to reason? Kharker needed to get around
it, to reach a tunnel on the far side of the chamber.

He risked another glance. This time he noticed
details he’d missed before, like the mutilated body of a dead horse on the
ground. Secondly, and in greater supply, were the bodies of roughly a dozen
mud-sharks. Even the Sabo could not kill the Balaklava’s
creature. Third, the abomination had reached the cage it had been climbing
towards. It opened and closed the door, reaching a limb inside. Once satisfied,
the monster swung its great bulk through the air, shifting its purchase from
one set of chains to another. It began an ascent to a cage even closer to the ceiling.

Damn it all
. The creature above had
many heads and many eyes, and if even a few of them actually worked it would spot
Kharker crossing the chamber and he’d be finished. Suppressing a groan, he
moved back from the opening and retreated down several tunnels. He would have
to take the long way around. It took him another twenty minutes, but finally he
made his way to the tunnel he’d been seeking, and from it he made his way to
the outer limit of the Sabo, the great round door.

He gathered his telekinetic power and rolled it
open. He stepped into the outer region, seeing the boulder ahead which
sheltered the labyrinth from unwanted visitors. A post with a board mounted on
it jutted from the ground.
It’s a trap, Malie
, read the note.

Kharker laughed.

“Yes, you bitch. It’s a trap, all right.” He
plucked the post from the ground and put it under an arm, where it would stay
until he found a place to dispose of it. Looking up through the ceiling for a
moment, he sighed. “Gavin, this is for you. And for Jean-Pierre, may you find
your peace at last.”

He rammed the stump of a cigar into his mouth,
careful not to light it lest the scent give him
away,
and
returned to the dark corridors of the Sabo, confident now that Maleasoel would
die, painfully and in fear. Then he made his way back the way he’d come.

He tried to ignore the feeling that he was being
watched all the while.

THE END

OF VOLUME
TWO

AUTHOR’S NOTE:

Thank
you for reading.
Part Three
is now
available. You can find it here . . .

.
. .
in
the US:
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00MW8RRPO

.
. .
in
the UK:
http://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B00MW8RRPO

If
you enjoyed my book, it would be greatly appreciated if you left a review so
others can, too. It will not only help new readers discover
The Living Night
but is incredibly
rewarding to me to see how people liked it, as well as learning any ways I can
improve.

In
fact, to encourage you to leave a review, if you liked the novel and review it,
just email me at
[email protected]
and I’ll gift you a free copy of Part Three.

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Jack