A Prayer of Freaks and Sinners Read online

  He swallowed hard and cleared his throat before gathering the courage to speak.

  "What did you say, Peyter?"

  The gangly youth looked up at Alfred with a frown.

  "When I walked past this one, I swear I saw it twitch. And its skin ripples."

  Deena tutted at him and stomped close.

  "We're frightened enough Peyter, without you spooking us. That's not skin, it's a layer of ash and grit that's solidified over a corpse. It's a poor soul that died during the war in a heat we can't even imagine. He hasn't moved in a thousand years, he's not going to move for you."

  Alfred pointed his sword at the crouched figure.

  "He's right Deena, something is moving. Look."

  Deena stopped with mouth open as she was about to continue and stared at the figure. She focused and intensified the sphere of pale light around her. Alfred rubbed his eyes and did the same. Together they edged closer to Peyter, whose own light was now twitching on and off. It caused their motions to appear stark and jerky.

  Alfred turned his head and spoke over his shoulder to the others.

  "Dunc, release your blessing a little and the three of you stay within the light while we look at this, ok?"

  Dunc lit up at the top of the steps, the light blossoming around him in a bubble. Farah and Manzak stepped into it and stayed tight. Dunc gave Alfred a quick wave.

  "Don't stray too far Alfred. We should stay in arm's length of each other."

  Alfred nodded in acknowledgment but his head was craned forward and he was captivated by what he was seeing.

  "Deena, can you see that? Is Peyter right? Our blessing makes everything look strange and distorted."

  Deena flared her blessing bright and merged with Alfred. Despite his fear he felt the emotional warmth of that shared magic tickle his heart. Her voice was icy though.

  "If that big idiot would get control of his blessing and stop with the miniature lightning storm, I'd be able to see a lot better!"

  Peyter was smiling in understanding now. His big face flickered in the light of his wayward blessing.

  "Oh, it's the grass."

  Alfred stopped close and peered down at the corpse. Then he saw it.

  "He's right Deena. It's not the corpse that's moving on its own. Look."

  Alfred watched as the black grass wound up from the dead earth and wrapped itself around every inch of the crouched citizen. It snaked across his limbs and rippled across his face. It burrowed into the layer of encrusted ash that covered the figure and drove itself into the ancient skin. A piece of crust fell away from the corpse to reveal one half of its face. A pale dead eye stared upwards and a knot of grey rotted sinews exposed beneath the jaw. The black grass forced its way beneath the eyelid and into the brain.

  Alfred watched in fascinated horror at the sudden abundance of life in a place so dead.

  He gestured with his sword.

  "Peyter step back from it. It's not safe."

  Peyter was like a child hypnotized by a twirling talisman. He spoke in an amazed whisper.

  "It's hope, Alfred. That the soil could sustain life in a place like this. A grey ruin filled with ash. And yet plants can bloom. It's hope that the Sorrow cannot extinguish all life in this world."

  In that moment Alfred could see the horrible trick of the Sorrow. It took the familiar and warped it into something corrupt and deadly. It was parody of the beauty of life.

  "Peyter, whatever is making that grow, it's not sunlight and water. I don't think this is good."

  Deena closed in with her heavy sword pointed out at the burgeoning black tendrils.

  "Remember Master Bluheart told us that even after all this time the seed of the Sorrow could survive in this place. Even after the burning. They sealed it up because they might have scorched the earth, but they didn't get to destroy all the roots. It wasn't dead. It was just lying dormant."

  Alfred looked around him at the edges of the circle of light.

  "And now we've disturbed it."

  Peyter was till captivated. He reached out a tentative hand towards the exposed face of the long-dead man.

  "He's been here a thousand years. The ash must have preserved him somehow, Alfred. I can still see the white hairs on his chin, and the veins beneath his eyes."

  Alfred stepped in closer.

  "Peyter get back. Come here, back into our light. We have to all do this together."

  Peyter leaned in closer.

  "It's all right Alf-"

  Hundreds of black tendrils shot out from the corpse's mouth. In seconds they had wrapped themselves around Peyter's head. He tried to stagger back but the sticky matter he had mistaken for grass held fast. Alfred could see one desperate eye through the morass as Peyter fumbled for his sword.

  Alfred shot forward and slashed at the thin worms of Sorrow. They bent but had an odd flexible quality and it was hard to cut through. Then Deena's heavier blade came down by Alfred's shoulder and the tendrils gave on one side. Peyter had a moment of freedom and movement. He twisted and gave Deena a grateful smile as he wrestled with his bonds on the other side. Then Alfred started back as a hundred more shot from the corpse's mouth and enveloped Peyter's head. The corpse breathed a dry lungful of air and stood up. It's arms grasped Peyter's shoulders and it drew in for what looked like a kiss. The cadaver's teeth clenched onto Peyter's lips and bit down, dragging a strip of rubbery flesh away with them. He screamed with his distorted mouth as Alfred hacked at the binding tendrils. Deena cut into the corpse itself, but it took a good few swings to get through the encrusted layer of burnt-on ash.

  In moments the other aspirants at her side. Dunc and Manzak pulling Peyter's legs, trying to drag him away from the creature. Farah was hacking at the writhing tendrils that seemed to multiply by the second.

  Deena managed to hack off one of the undead being's arms, but this allowed it to lurch forward and out of their grasp. It grabbed Peyter's collar and sank rotten teeth into his throat. The big lad gurgled and kicked but before any of them could stop it there was a fist sized hole in Peyter's neck.

  He bucked and spasmed as dark blood gushed out. It sprayed Alfred and Deena in their faces and they were blinded for a moment. When Alfred opened his eyes again, Peyter's had rolled up into his head and his kicks lessened.

  Alfred still tried to wrench the substance free of him with his sword, but it wrapped around the blade and started to make its way up to the hilt.

  "Peyter!"

  Alfred felt something whoosh over his head. A second later the head of the animated corpse fell at his knees. Its jaw still snapped open and shut. The black tendrils emanating from its mouth whipped and writhed on the ground. Alfred edged away from it in disgust.

  He looked up and saw Manzak standing with his sword in his hand. Oily black liquid dripped from the blade. His jaw was set and his light burned bright around him. The young man's twisted braids fell free about his shoulders and the gold rings in his face glimmered. He looked every inch the savage skirmisher reputed to be. Hate burned in his dark eyes. Alfred turned from him as he heard Farah scream. He looked to the figure on the ground.

  Peyter was dead. His body was twisted at a horrible angle, his face and throat torn and bloody. Alfred shouted out and punched the earth until his knuckles bled.

  Manzak put a hand on his robes and pulled him up.

  "Alfred, he's gone. We can't bury him and we can't stay here another moment."

  Alfred looked into the swarthy nomad's hard eyes with a moment of defiance. But he knew Manzak spoke the truth. He turned and crouched down. Under his breath he whispered.

  "I am sorry, brother. Lord Angall take your soul. Your body we must leave in this dreaded place. Forgive us."

  Alfred was about to stand when he heard the sounds out in the dark all around them.

  It was a slippery creaking that started quiet but soon became overwhelming. Alfred raised his sword straight up above his head.

  "On me! Draw close."

  Farah, Deena,
Manzak, Dunc and Sebastian huddled in and stood back to back, their swords pointing out in all directions to face the danger. Alfred drew his blessing up in his chest.

  "We need to see further. Work together. Send our blessings out as one. Extend the perimeter."

  The aspirants tried to breathe deep and suppress their panic. One by one the strange communal warmth they shared flowed through them like warm treacle. It calmed them enough to share their gifts and in moments their bubbles of light had merged and started to expand.

  The whipping and rustling out in the dark had become deafening now, a salacious whisper all around them. As the perimeter of holy light extended, the aspirants could see the black tendrils invading hundreds of corpses that scattered around them. It burrowed into their dead flesh like parasites, reactivating old nerves and hijacking muscles. It burrowed behind sightless eyes, turning the desiccated jelly to its purpose. The crusted ash broke away and the dead began to rise. They flexed atrophied muscles and worked dislocated jaws until hundreds of pale eyes turned towards the warm bodies in the light. The dried out sclera fizzed and burnt as the undead gazed upon the light and they turned away at the memory of pain.

  Those closest to the aspirants began to crumble and smoke. Their skin blistered and they loped towards the cool darkness beyond. At the edges of the ever widening circle of light, Alfred saw something that made his stomach lurch.

  The thicker black vines that had encircled walls as they walked through the city wrapped themselves around the huge mass of congealed bodies that they had cut through to get to the steps. It was doing something horrible to the dead flesh. Alfred pointed.

  "Deena look! What is that?"

  Deena joined at his side and looked out with her jaw wide.

  The oily vines merged with and absorbing the mass of bodies. Individual corpses dissolving into one bloated and mutating form. Tendrils erupted from every mouth and eye socket. New limbs formed from old. Entire bodies became legs or appendages. The still forming behemoth shuddered as it hauled its bulk around to face the aspirants.

  Deena put a firm hand on Alfred's shoulder.

  "We cannot fight that. Alfred, we have to go. Now!"

  Alfred felt the fatigue of their blessing fall over him. They had stretched their magic too far. At the perimeter of the circle of light, the shambling behemoth was affected by the holy power. It thrashed forward into the light and an assortment of tendrils lashed towards Alfred. The appendages whipped past his face and it woke him from exhaustion.

  He held his sword up and shouted.

  "Draw our light in, everyone. We need to conserve what we have. If it all goes out, we're dead. Deena, keep focused on your guiding light. Direct us. We need to get down those stairs."

  Deena's eyes wide with fear and shock, but she nodded and took a deep breath. She focused and released the mote of light from her mouth. It drifted past them and hovered down the staircase.

  The aspirants moved as a single unit, taking small steps back to back until on the top step. Against their every instinct, they drew their blessings close around them. It brought the perimeter of light no more than seven feet from them, but it gave them a shot at conserving energy.

  Once at the bottom of the steps, Alfred turned his back on them and looked to the floating mote of holy light that drifted down the tunnel ahead. Dunc patted Alfred's shoulder and moved to the back of the group.

  "I'll take rear guard. I can hear them coming down the stairs. I'll call out of I see them. Just focus on following that light."

  Alfred nodded and the group moved down the tunnel. They could only see as far ahead as the blessing allowed. Behind them they could hear hundreds of dry feet shuffling down the tunnel. Behind that there was another sound. Something huge and heavy was dragging its weight after them. Alfred tried to calm his heart and focus on the tunnel ahead. It was made of ancient stone with an arched roof that dripped water. The walls bare of vines. Alfred gestured to Deena as they moved.

  "No grass here. No black vines. Perhaps it can't grow here?"

  Deena scanned the ground.

  "That could mean we are close to something holy?"

  Alfred nodded.

  The tunnel bent at numerous angles along the way, and sloped down further into the cold earth. At times it sounded like the shambling horde of puppet corpses only a few feet behind them, no more than an arm's length. At others it sounded like a distant echo. Alfred cursed the city. Everything in the ruin was distorted and warped, even their senses. He was sweating but cold and he was shivering despite his woolen robes.

  "Just keep going. We have to trust the light."

  As they moved deeper into the earth, Alfred noticed that the sphere of holy light around the group was dimming. All becoming exhausted and they knew it. It would not be long before the light would flicker and die, leaving them isolated in the dark surrounded by nightmares. Small pieces of their living flesh would be nipped from them in the dark as if by deep-sea fish.

  Alfred tried to shove these thoughts from his mind, keep his heart focused on the task ahead. But fear was starting to get the better of him. It didn't matter though. There was nowhere to turn back to. Deeper underground was the only way.

  They arrived at an intersection in the tunnels and stopped. The light bobbed in front of them as if unsure which direction to take. Alfred glanced at Deena in panic.

  "Come on Deena, what's it telling us?"

  Deena furrowed her brow and concentrated.

  "I don't know, I'm not in control of it!"

  The shuffling and dragging sounds getting closer behind them. Then Alfred heard a noise from the tunnel to their left. He extended his blessing to illuminate the tunnel.

  "There's more of them."

  The aspirants watched in horror as another group of animated cadavers loped down the sloping left hand tunnel towards them. The ones at the back shoving the others forward, almost falling over each other to reach the warm bodies they could smell.

  Alfred turned to the mote of hovering light and shouted.

  "Come on you holy little bastard! Lead on!"

  The light advanced down the tunnel ahead. Alfred scanned the right hand tunnel but it was silent and free of predators. But in the other two tunnels the grasping hands and writhing black tendrils almost in reach. Dunc slashed his sword and cut off a few wiggling feelers that dropped to the ground. He back off and yelled.

  "They're here. They're on us!"

  Farah broke off from the group. She rushed forward to stand in the right hand tunnel. Alfred tried to grab her but she was too fast. When she turned her face was a mask of sweating terror, but she offered him a smile. Her voice was shaky and manic.

  "The light's moving too slow Alfred. They'll catch you. I'll draw them off down here. I'll find you all again, I'll double back somehow."

  Alfred shook his head and reached out to her. Even as he did so the two hordes of undead convening at the intersection. Pale hands reached out for him, clawing at his robes and dragging him towards them. Alfred twisted and struggled, hacking at them with his sword but his feet slipped. Deena was at his back, pulling him towards her.

  Farah screamed so loud that they all felt it shudder through them. Alfred looked up and saw that her blessing was lit up like the sun around her. The clasping hands of the cadavers drew back as their skin hissed. Farah's blessing was fizzling out, she was burning through her magic in moments.

  She back off down the tunnel, screaming at the swarm all the way. Alfred tried to reach her but Deena pulled him back. In seconds cut off from her by the first wave of the swarm.

  "Farah! Keep moving. Save your light, you're burning it too quick!"

  Farah's eyes wild, gazing all around her for an escape, but there was only the long straight tunnel that seemed to be narrowing all around her.

  "Go, will you!"

  Alfred tried to slash at the swarm again but Deena dragged him back.

  "She's made a choice, Alfred. Don't honor it by dying now. Come on, we have to
go, the light is getting away from us."

  Alfred watched the undead creatures advancing down the tunnel after Farah, giving them a few moments' time. Then he saw the huge bulbous amalgam of the dead drag itself down the other tunnel towards them. It was the shock he needed. Alfred scrambled to his feet and stumbled off down the tunnel after the others and the tiny mote of light.

  The tunnel sloped ever downwards, turning left and then right. The sound of the swarm behind them echoes down the passage. It was impossible now to tell how close it was. They turned another corner and stopped dead in their tracks.

  Alfred's hands shook as he stared at the wall in front of them. He spun around.

  "We turn back."

  Deena held him fast.

  "There's no time, they're right on us, Alfred."

  Manzak stepped up in front with Dunc by his side.

  "We will keep them back. See if there is drain or a loose stone or something. Try to break our way through.

  Alfred turned to the dead end and his eyes scanned the wall. Then he realized it wasn't a wall. It was a door. And it had writing on it. It was old writing in a language almost no one in the world now understood, but that Alfred could read as easily as his own name.

  Spiraling patterns and inscriptions carved into the stonework. Salamander and phoenix emblazoned in faded bronze. In the centre was a bronze disc pitted with many holes and scored lines. Deena ran her hand across it.

  "Alfred, is there a way through? What does it say?"

  Alfred realized he was as afraid of the door ahead as he was of the swarm of undead behind.

  "We're here. This it. This is the tomb."

  The tiny mote of light Deena had cast floated for a moment in the air and then it drifted towards the bronze disc and burned itself into the very centre. It glowed there as if it was where it had always belonged. Alfred read over the symbols and text around the disc.