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Authors: Steve Feasey

Changeling: Zombie Dawn (24 page)

BOOK: Changeling: Zombie Dawn
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Helde thrust her hands, palm out, towards her assailants, sending two great balls of energy towards them. She was weakened, but she knew that even these simple weapons should be enough to put an end to those who had dared to attack her in this way. Her magic was swatted away as if it were no more than a fly however, and the two sorceresses locked horns as their energies met – in the same way that Helde and Hag’s had met when they fought over the breaching of the Shield.

The lycanthrope took it upon himself to attack, the great brutish creature lunging forward with its teeth bared. The sorceress threw up her hand again, and the werewolf flew backwards through the air, smashing into a wall with so much force that the stonework around him cracked and broke. Helde turned her attention to the dhampir again, and was taken by surprise; she had not expected the newcomer to be so versed in the magic arts or to be so strong and skilful. It occurred to the ancient creature that she might not have the strength to defeat this newcomer – she was too depleted, too run down. Again she considered abandoning the Shield, and again she rejected the idea. Whatever happened, she had to protect Leroth – it was her only means of escape.

Helde took the only route open to her – if she couldn’t defeat her attackers in her current form, she would have to take on another. She knew she had neither the time nor the energy to summon up a creature from the Netherworld, so she turned to the nearest thing she could: the creatures that made up her body, the thousands of insects that encased her ancient heart and allowed her to live again. She would use them to defeat the humans intent on killing her.

Trey managed to get back to his feet just as Helde stood for the first time. He watched as she threw her arms up into the air and issued a terrible high-pitched scream, before dropping to her knees. She collapsed forward, her forehead connecting with the cold stone floor with a dull
thunk.
Her forearms rested slightly out ahead of her on the flagstones, her back hunched and curved over her legs. She looked for a second as if she were praying to a divine spirit or perhaps about to beg them for mercy.

Somewhere far below them, outside the tower, the unmistakable sound of two vampires’ primal screams, accompanied by a crashing and splintering of glass, made its way up to them. Even from this height, they could hear the pain and fury in those terrible howls. Trey glanced across at Alexa and it was clear from the way that her body had stiffened that she too had heard the noise. Their attention had only drifted for a moment, but when they looked back at the sorceress she’d already transformed into a horrifying hell-beast.

The host of insects that made up the sorceress’s body had grown suddenly, swelling in size ten – or twenty-fold before fusing and merging together so that instead of a host of individuals, one huge armoured carapace was created. The vast black shell sat in the centre of the room, unmoving for a moment, until three pairs of vicious-looking barbs appeared along its sides. These grew quickly outwards, transforming as they did so into articulated insect legs which scrabbled at the floor and lifted the exoskeleton up from it. As swiftly as the legs had appeared, the vast head emerged from the front of the shell. Huge black orbs glared down at the intruders, and below these were three rows of pincer-like mandibles which snapped together, filling the room with a terrible
clacking
sound. Beneath the mandibles was the mouth, and this was opened to display the rows of ‘living teeth’ housed there: hanging from the jaws, attached by their barbed tails, were large scorpion-like creatures which writhed about.

If the thing they’d first encountered when they’d stepped into these rooms was a grotesquerie, then this new entity was nothing short of an abomination. The thing let out a terrible screech and charged.

Alexa reacted first. The wall of energy that she summoned up in front of herself and Trey was just strong enough to withstand the attack as the nightmare creature slammed its hard, chitin-covered shell into it. The teenager gasped at the force of the blow, flinching uncomfortably and screwing up her face as if she had herself been physically struck. Despite her pain, Alexa managed to keep the barricade in place as the giant beast crashed into it for a second time. But this time Alexa went on the attack; as the creature reeled she allowed the wall to drop and lifted both hands, linking them at the thumbs and shouting out in an ancient tongue as a stream of liquid fire poured forth from her palms. It was one of Hag’s spells – she had taught it to the young sorceress but they had never had time to try it out together. Alexa gasped with astonishment at the force and power of the spell, and Trey watched her struggle to stay on her feet as she moved her hands back and forth, painting the now unmoving creature in a liquescent inferno so hot that he could feel the hair that covered his body begin to singe and burn. The flames stopped as suddenly as they’d started, and the young sorceress looked across at her handiwork.

That terrible head and face, along with the limbs, had been retracted into the shiny carapace as soon as the first flames had left Alexa’s hands. The chitin-covered outer shell was still burning as small flames licked across its surface, giving off a foul-smelling smoke that filled the room.

‘Well, that went better than I expected,’ Alexa said. She grinned at Trey but it was clear to the lycanthrope that the sorcery had taken a lot out of her. He went to say something when he caught a hint of movement from the corner of his eye. He turned to look at the smouldering shell, and sure enough something was moving about inside.

/
don1 think she’s dead, Lex. I think she’s—

There was a terrible shriek, and that malevolent face appeared at the opening of the shell again. Trey shuddered at the triumphant look in the creature’s eyes. The legs emerged next, but this time it didn’t charge as it had before. It drew back its head and spat at the young sorceress.

Alexa managed to get her arms up in front of her face as the shower of black scorpions struck her. She screamed out as they grabbed hold of her flesh in their pincers, their whip-like tails arching up and over to stab her with toxins before she could pull them off and throw them to the floor. The pain and damage they inflicted was not terrible: they were merely a distraction. The giant insect thing lowered itself and prepared to charge, the vicious mandibles at the front of its face snapping together with renewed ferocity as it did so.

In her bid to overpower the other sorceress, Helde had momentarily forgotten the lycanthrope.

Trey charged forward, his terrible roar filling the room. He leaped up at the hideous face, wrapping his arms about the section behind it which disappeared into the shell and twisting his body so that he mounted it from the top. He squeezed with all of his might and sank his huge jaws down into one of those eyes, biting as hard as he could into the tough exterior. There was a scream from the creature that was Helde, and she tried to retreat into the safety of that armoured shell again, but Trey was ready for this; bracing his legs on either side of the casing, he thrust his weight forward in the other direction, and continued to strangle and bite.

Helde reached up with her front legs, flailing wildly at the werewolf and opening up terrible wounds on Trey’s flanks with the sharp spikes that crowned them. But the lycanthrope would not be shifted – he felt a new power and assurance in his actions. This was part of his destiny after all. If anything the pain of the wounds spurred him on, and he tightened his grip even more, howling with the effort of choking the life out of the hell-beast until its struggles became weaker and weaker and it finally crashed to the floor. Only then did Trey relinquish his grip and slide back to the ground. The lycanthrope dropped down on to all fours, his tongue hanging from his blood-caked mouth, as he sucked the unpleasant air into his lungs in great, rapid breaths.

‘Trey? Trey, are you OK?’

He looked up to see Alexa on her feet again. Her arms were covered in bleeding wounds, and it was clear that she’d been stung in several places – large angry-looking swellings covered her hands and arms.

Yeah,
he said, straightening up.
I’m fine. A few cuts and bruises, is all. How about you?

‘Not great. I feel like a human pincushion, but I think the worst of it has worn off now.’ She half grimaced, half smiled at him.

There was a moan from the floor, and they both turned to look at Helde. The hell-beast was gone, and she’d returned to her former physical state, or at least, some of her had. Apart from those that comprised the head and torso, the multitude of insects that made up the sorceress no longer seemed capable of adhesion. Struggle as they might, the host could not mould themselves together in the humanoid form as they had previously, and the thing on the floor moaned out loud as it writhed around, a limbless trunk to which the groaning head was attached.

‘You’ve got to hand it to her,’ Alexa said, nodding down at the wretched thing, ‘she doesn’t die easily.’

A low and terrifying growl came from somewhere deep inside Trey’s chest.
We’ll see about that,
he said. The lycanthrope walked over to the dying sorceress and reached down to grab her by the neck, ignoring her agonized cries as great chunks of her fell away. He walked to the window. Thousands of the tiny creatures scurried after him and streamed up his legs and body. They flowed along his arms and hands, and rejoined the black mass hanging from his grip as if still intent on knitting her back together again.

Trey looked down from the window and saw the two vampires.

He’d got there just in time.

40

Despite the agony that each step caused, Lucien had almost caught up with his brother, whose response was to hurl vile abuse and threats back over his shoulder in his sibling’s direction.

‘You are a traitor to your own kind, Lucien! A vile and despised quisling who is hated by those who once trusted him. I will have you tortured for a thousand years. You will beg me for death, but I will not give you that satisfaction! Oh no. I will—’

They were no more than ten metres from the entrance to the outer tunnels when Lucien threw himself forward, grabbing his brother from behind and dragging him to the floor.

The two vampires set about each other again, rolling across the paving stones, clawing and biting and tearing undead flesh from each other’s bodies with tooth and claw. The fight was vicious and unrelenting, each of them intent on killing the other to put an end to their rivalry forever. Despite his wounds, Caliban slowly gained the upper hand. He was stronger than Lucien, with a hatred inside that fuelled him to fight, even with his wrecked and broken body. Little by little he became aware of his brother’s weakening state. He feinted with his broken metal arm, looking for an opening, and when he saw it he lashed out with his other hand, fingers hooked so that his talons flayed open a horrific wound across Lucien’s face that caused him to cry out and stagger back. Caliban threw himself after the other vampire, using his wrecked metal hand as a bludgeon and smashing it repeatedly into Lucien’s head until his brother’s knees buckled beneath him. Forcing Lucien on to his back, Caliban leaped upon him and continued to rain down blow after blow until there was no longer any resistance. With his good hand he forced Lucien’s head away, viciously twisting his skull and pressing it down into the blood-drenched paving stones so that his neck was exposed.

‘Goodbye ... brother,’ he said, eyeing the flesh he would rip out with his teeth. ‘It seems you weren’t quite as difficult to kill as you thought.’ He reared his head back, ready to deliver the final deadly bite. As he did so, the dim glow of the sun on the other side of the purple overhead vault made him blink and wince for a second.

From high above came the unmistakable roar of a werewolf. The sound alone was enough to make Caliban pause, and he peered upward, trying to make out the source of the noise. Up in the highest window of the tower he spotted the lycanthrope boy, Trey Laporte. Inside Leroth? No! But he was – leaning out, his huge seven-foot frame filling the opening. One arm was thrust before him, and he held what appeared to be the head and torso of some creature he had destroyed. The vampire’s keen eyes noticed the steady drip of what he first thought to be droplets of blood, only to realize they were in fact tiny black beetles.

The lycanthrope had Helde.

Caliban’s mind raced through his options. If he killed his brother, the boy was sure to do the same to the sorceress. Caliban was too weak to take on the lycanthrope, and had no means of opening a portal to the Netherworld without Helde. He looked about him, noticing for the first time how the Shield had shrunk dramatically. The vampire glanced nervously towards that terrifying sun again. Why hadn’t the boy already killed her? And then it came to him: it was Lucien. If the boy killed Helde the Shield would disappear and both he and the lycanthrope’s precious guardian would be incinerated. For the first time since seeing the werewolf Caliban allowed the shadow of a smile to creep on to his face. He had his bargaining chip. He had his means of escape.

The vampire kept his hand firmly pressed down on the side of his brother’s head. He looked up at the lycanthrope, fixing him with his pale yellow eyes.

‘We seem to be in a stalemate, Laporte!’ he shouted. ‘I have your mentor at my mercy, you have my sorceress at yours.’

Trey roared back in the vampire’s direction before taking a step away from the window. He had no intention of using the thought transfer spell to communicate with his nemesis; the idea of allowing his thoughts and feelings to be experienced by the vampire was simply deplorable. He turned to Alexa.

Caliban has Lucien,
he said.
I want you to get me down there. Can you do that?

Alexa rushed towards the window. Trey held out an arm, trying to block her so that she would not have to see the state her father was in, but she pushed it to one side and looked down at the terrible bloody tableau below. When she stepped back, the expression on her face was not one of dread, but one of grim determination. ‘I think I might be able to open a portal.’ She shook her head as if trying to organize her thoughts. ‘They’re usually created between the human and demon realms, but this place is already straddling those two places, so it should be possible.’ She looked up at him. ‘It usually takes hours of preparation to create these things. It’ll take everything I’ve got to open it very quickly, and I won’t be able to hold it for more than a second or two. That means I won’t be able to come with you.’

BOOK: Changeling: Zombie Dawn
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