Marker of Faith

CHAPTER 49

CHAPTER 49

Grabbing Roddy and Rattle, John hauled them up the mound past the last part of the symbol. They collapsed near the circle of severed heads and swirling dark energy funneling up into the cloud cover like a cyclone. The witch the Old Ones had taken instead of Minerva lay in a mangled heap at the edge of the mist. As the last piece of the symbol, the witch was ripped apart and restacked in the shape of a pyramid, her head placed in her hands at the top. Blood pooled around her torso, and ripples moved across the surface like something big was swimming in the depths. Little licks of energy broke away from the cyclone and skimmed the surface.

Here at the heart of the battle there was no sound, John couldn't even hear his own heart beat. From beneath him the vibrations of the Old Ones growing stronger thrummed with such an intensity of evil that John thought his bones would liquefy. The standing stones glowed pale amber as they rocked and swayed in time with the malignant pulse. A moan rose in volume as the pressure changed again. Roddy and Rattle doubled over in pain, and John's eardrum ruptured, the sensation filling his head with a high pitched whistling and buzz that amplified the voices of the Old Ones.

"Guardians," they rasped from the mouths of the severed heads.

John linked arms with his two warriors. "You will not breach The Void!" he screamed. The ground rumbled and split open, releasing a vent of icy air over the mound. 

From the depths the Old Ones' voices roared, "We come!"

John's body went rigid with the power of Light as it spoke through him. "Old Ones, PagruDahlkuBu'idu!" John's physical body recoiled at the true name of the darkness. "We defy you!"

Roddy and Rattle joined him, lending their voices to the power. "We are the Guardians, we defy you. We guard the GATE! Asarudulu As Numshub Banmaskim INA ETUTI ASBU."

The power spiked as it coursed through them, the connection acting like a circuit. They were no longer just John, Roddy and Rattle; they were fused, imbued with the inner light of the Power. They began to chant, words strange and ancient rolling off their tongues with ease, as arcs of energy burst from their bodies and encased the severed heads on the ground. The skulls exploded in a cloud of sizzling ash.

The Guardians kept chanting while the Old Ones mocked them with shrill laughter. Out of the corner of his eye, John caught movement and swiveled his head to see the Shadow Army ringing the edge of the mound. Tangles of non-corporeal hands slapped at him, tore at his flesh with razor claws, but he felt no pain; there was nothing but numbness as the Light healed the wounds instantly. Faces hovered close, whispering taunts.

"Die...give up...you've failed!"

Laughter rippled through the Shadow Army as Minerva's body landed in a crumpled heap at John's feet. She was covered in blood, her beautiful face brutally beaten and torn, her body savaged. John broke his connection with Roddy and Rattle and dropped to his knees next to her. There was a loud pop as the Guardian's combined energy dissipated.

"No! No!" John cried as he gently scooped up her body and cradled it close to his chest.

Why did I let this happen?

"You are weak, Guardian," the Old Ones taunted from the swirling mass of energy now erupting from the chasm and mixing into the funnel tearing at the sky.

Roddy and Rattle cried out as the Shadow Army attacked and dragged them quickly into the mist. As the men disappeared inside the roiling shadows, John's power faltered. He looked up into the darkness of the Old Ones and saw the Void Gate clearly; it bulged, opening cracks that would allow the final destruction to begin. Writhing forms -- beings almost beyond description and the root of all nightmares -- pushed at the fissures, crying out in ecstasy at the fallen Guardians' torment.