The Tales of Tikum Kadlum

7 EDGE OF DARKNESS

7.7 HOUNDS OF DARKNESS

Around Sri Kihod's lifeless body, black wisps circled, appearing and disappearing like fireflies in the night. Only then did Amburukay and Tikum realized what was happening. The sorcerer-king's charred remains were nothing but a glamour– an illusion to trick simpletons. And right that moment, the trickery was slowly disintegrating, crumbling down to dust and expelling a most pungent odor. It smelled of rancid meat– like something decaying had burst out from a tumor sac to corrupt the air they were taking in. The two cursed. They haven't defeated their master yet. It was only a mirage cast over a simulacrum of a human-shape banana stalk. And they fell for it.

Amburukay shook her head.

It was one of the many powerful tools that a wizened and experienced sorcerer could employ. She hissed feeling a bit ashamed. She should have seen it coming. She was too careless. Kihod was no ordinary thug. The glamour was a testament to his cunning and breadth of knowledge, and few could argue against it. It was a simple illusion but the detail was flawless, barely indistinguishable from cruel man it imitated. But the magic’s complexity was overshadowed by the mere fact that Sri Kihod was still alive. Their vilest foe still lived.

Tikum gagged.

Real or not, the glamour still smelled as though a rain-soaked corpse finally met the smiling radiant sun. It left an aftertaste of death and malignant magic at the back of his throat. As the spell dissipated, the ominous laughter continued. They strained their ears, looking for its mysterious source. It echoed and bounced, weakening and amplifying as though the speaker was beside them, whispering at their ears. Then, it would shift and it would seem like the speaker was miles and miles away. Tikum did not like it to say the least. He warned his wife.

Amburukay hissed a curse and demanded Sri Kihod to show himself.

The laughter halted and the pregnant pause seemed to strangle time itself before continuing again. This time, it came straight from behind the balete trees at the base of the hill. Amburukay and Tikum turned towards it and the laughter amplified into a unnerving guttural howl. It sounded like an animal was being slaughtered, but there was a hint of intelligence between the screams and cries.

"Sri Kihod!" Amburukay said as the glamour that hid him faded.

Dressed in a golden crown of horns and robed in a silver tampi with a chain belt, the Lord of the Manghihiwit revealed himself to his former agents. But he no longer resembled the affable man he once was. Towering among them, the thing that was once Sri Kihod, gazed with his six yellow slitted eyes at the Black Dog and Amburukay– all the orbs glinted with hunger and bemusement. His once tanned skin was now covered with red scales hardened into steel plates. An extra pair of clawed-limbs also protruded from his wide and muscled torso. Behind his great form, a cape of living shadows trailed and flowed like black ink. His terrific countenance cracked as his slit of a lip twisted into a wide grin to display a full-set of fanged teeth.

"The ungrateful and ambitious apprentice," Sri Kihod said, voice deep and jarring as though it all came from different maws. "And surprisingly, in alliance with her traitor of a husband. All side by side in this grand reunion. How wonderful of you to join me."

Tikum scowled. "Traitor? You put it so delicately, master."

"How's it been Amburukay?" Sri Kihod turned to the sorceress, ignoring Tikum as he grumbled something obscene.

Amburukay sighed, raising her chin. "Better than you'll be after we're finish with you." Her feet almost gave way as she eyed Sri Kihod. It was not the image to portray in front of a predator like Sri Kihod.