Chapter 36
Drums echoed in the distance, their rhythmic booms a chorus of many, greeting the men’s ears as they reached the city’s outskirts. Carrack recognized the source of the sounds, yet he hadn’t anticipated their volume; the drums were surprisingly loud, their cadence reverberating through the streets and carrying far beyond their origin.
Carrack observed some men falter, their hands tightening around their rifles or casting wary glances through the dim light. Anxiety was etched on their faces, visible in the quick puffs of breath that fogged the air, a silent signal of their unease. A few were noticeably on edge, their bodies tensing and muted curses escaping them whenever the Thomas sputtered and backfired. Yet, they marched on without pause, driven by a deep-rooted discipline or perhaps a simple reluctance to face the shadows alone.
An unease twisted inside Carrack as his gaze swept over the familiar buildings, buildings that now seemed alien to him. Their facades, never truly a vibrant sight as they were worn by nature’s relentless forces, now appeared to be swallowed by a more sinister shadow. They stood taller somehow, their forms more gnarled, and the hollow blackness of their windows reached out with spectral fingers, challenging any brave soul to peer into the darkness within. At least that’s how he saw them.
Yet, it was the streets’ utter desolation that unsettled him the most. The occasional lights that once dotted the facades of homes and flickered in windows were now extinguished, leaving the city shrouded in darkness akin to a coastal town evading naval bombardment. A palpable weight seemed to press against his skin from unseen angles, fostering the chilling sense of being watched. It could have been from a darkened window, a shadow-laden alley, or, most disconcertingly, from the roiling mass of clouds churning ominously above.
The fragile tension shattered abruptly with a jarring bang from the Thomas, its loudest yet, which devolved into a cacophony of sputtering and grinding gears before coming to a screeching halt. Plumes of smoke rose from the now-stilled machine as the formation came to an abrupt stop, eyes turning toward the mechanics who hastened to the engine, their profanities echoing louder than the storm that enveloped them. Carrack and Crow joined the huddle around the mechanics, their faces falling as they watched the disheartened shakes of the engineers’ heads while they surveyed the engine’s innards.
“The damn thing’s a goner, sir,” the mechanic grumbled, wiping his hands on a greasy rag. “Been leaking oil since we rolled out. The gears have been eating themselves alive.”
Carrack exhaled deeply, fatigue etched into his face. He glanced at Crow, resolution settling in his weary eyes. “Alright, we’ll leave it and set a guard. When it’s time, we can converge here for the Soma distribution.”
Crow acknowledged with a nod, detailing a few guards to secure the area. Yet, as he faced Carrack, a ripple of concern passed over his features. “Those drums.”
Carrack’s response was terse, affirming the looming start of an unseen event. “Yes, they’re beginning.”
Alaina’s voice cut through the tension. “We need to move then.”
The command from Crow was sharp, cutting through the air. “Move out!” His voice carried the weight of urgency, prompting the formation to lurch into motion, each soldier moving with deliberate speed. They navigated the twists and turns of the city’s avenues until they rounded the final bend, coming face to face with the statue—and an unsettling stillness. The drumming had stopped abruptly as they entered the square.
The men hesitated, their confusion palpable in the tense atmosphere, eyes scanning for something amiss. Carrack made his way to the forefront, his unease mounting as he encountered the empty square, the stillness causing a prickle along his skin. Crow’s expression mirrored the collective doubt, his gaze sharp and searching. Alaina, however, maintained a composed demeanor, stepping beside Carrack with an intent look at the statue.
“Well …” she murmured as she stepped into the empty space. “Isn’t this interesting.”
“Interesting?” Crow echoed. “Where is everyone? And those drums … … ”
“I noticed their absence as well,” Alaina responded with a measured calm, venturing deeper into the square. She moved her hand through the air as though sensing an unseen presence, her fingers splayed and probing the stillness. “It seems we may be contending with some trickery.”
Unease rippled through the ranks, a low tide of murmurs washing over the men as they exchanged nervous glances, pondering the silence and their missing welcome.
Crow stepped up, his voice booming over the whispers, instilling a sense of command. “Steady, men!” he announced, a note of reassurance in his call. “Seems like we’ve been duped by some illusion. Stay sharp. Section leaders, spread out and secure all access points to the square.”
Despite a moment’s hesitation that tempered their swiftness, the formation began to disperse, a wary diligence taking over as they fanned out to secure the perimeter. Yet, they remained acutely aware of the statue, keeping it within their peripheral vision as if expecting it to stir. Carrack and Crow moved to join Alaina, who advanced toward the statue with deliberate steps, her eyes locked onto the silent effigy as if in a silent confrontation.
As they drew nearer to the statue, Carrack felt a constriction in his throat, a visceral response to his mounting nerves, making him jumpy to even the smallest sounds like Crow’s audible sniff. The haunting memories of his past encounter with the statue lingered sharply in his mind, and he couldn’t help but feel that Alaina and Crow were also replaying his account in their heads as they stepped into its looming shadow.
“Alaina,” Carrack called out, his voice a hushed whisper, an attempt to mask his anxiety, “what do you make of it?”
Alaina remained fixated on the statue, her contemplation almost tangible in the air. “Nothing,” she finally uttered. “I think nothing yet. You mentioned it was a ‘pull’ that you felt?” she said, her gaze still unbroken.
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“That’s right,” Carrack confirmed, his eyes also locked on the enigmatic figure.
“Hmm,” Alaina mused, her voice tinged with a mix of skepticism and intrigue. “And it was after this pull that you witnessed the changes? The shifting shadows, the spectral lights above?” she continued, trying to piece together the puzzle before them.
“Yes, do you feel it?” Carrack asked, his unease now evident in the tightness of his voice, a reflection of the strange recollections that stirred within him.
Alaina’s silence hung heavily before she finally spoke, her lips parting in a silent expression of surprise. “Not exactly,” she began, her eyes not leaving the statue. “There’s something … unusual about the air here.”
“Unusual? In what way?” Crow pressed.
“It’s akin to the trace left by smoke long after a fire has been extinguished. Whatever transpired here wasn’t recent—likely from last night. The remnants are elusive, almost like grasping at mist,” Alaina said as she circled the statue, her movements deliberate, tracing the unseen traces of past events.
“And you said the drums were … an illusion? Another remnant of what happened before?” Carrack probed.
“Potentially,” Alaina responded with caution. “If this artifact manipulated your senses once, it’s not unreasonable to suspect it could affect us all.”
Crow’s frustration was apparent. “But where is everyone? You said they’d be here for their ritual.”
Carrack considered for a moment. “Maybe they called it off. My last encounter with Lady Matilda didn’t exactly end on a note of assurance.”
Crow nodded, looking around the desolate square. “She must’ve warned her followers. Holed up in her chapel, I’d bet.”
Alaina’s voice faded into silence, her thoughts apparent in her hesitance. “Yet, if this was sacred to her …”
“Then she wouldn’t just abandon it,” said Carrack firmly. “Not if she believed it could be destroyed.”
“Precisely,” Alaina concurred, her affirmation hanging in the air.
“Precisely,” echoed a voice, eerily serene, that of Lady Matilda. The sound of her voice had Carrack spinning around instantly, only for him to find her standing a mere few feet behind them, a wry smile playing on her lips. The sight of it sent a jolt through him, his jaw tensing involuntarily.
“How in hellfire’s blazes!” Carrack exclaimed, his outburst drawing the others’ attention. “How did she slip past us?”
“How did who slip past?” asked Alaina.
Carrack whirled back to point out Lady Matilda, but as his gaze returned to where she stood, there was nothing. She had disappeared.
“What?” he stammered, his voice laced with disbelief.
“Sir?” Crow interjected, his eyes scanning the vicinity for any sign of the figure Carrack mentioned.
“No, she was right there,” Carrack insisted, his voice faltering. “Matilda, I heard her, saw her … just now.”
Alaina moved beyond Carrack, her steps measured as she reached the spot where he had seen Lady Matilda. Standing still, she closed her eyes, immersing herself in a moment of quiet contemplation. After a few moments, her features contorted with concentration, she finally opened her eyes and slowly shook her head. “I’m afraid there’s nothing, Lord Carrack. No remnants of a specter or any ethereal trace.”
Carrack’s frustration bubbled over. “Dammit,” he muttered, his annoyance directed inward, but his gaze turned back to the statue, “I know what I saw …”
“I know you do,” came the chilling reverberation of Lady Matilda’s voice.
Carrack’s head snapped to the side, only to see her standing nearby, that unnerving smile once again gracing her features.
“What the fuck,” he murmured under his breath, his eyes wide, rooted to the spot as he stared at Lady Matilda. “How? How?”
Lady Matilda’s expression held a hint of amusement at his astonishment. “Oh, is this the most shocking thing you’ve encountered? You, speechless?” She tutted softly. “Lord Carrack, you’ve barely scratched the surface.”
As her words lingered, Carrack felt an ominous and familiar sensation pressing down on him, the same daunting pull he had experienced before. He fought against it, his eyes darting around in desperate search for assistance, only to realize with a sinking feeling that Alaina, Crow, and the soldiers were nowhere to be seen.
“You left our last meeting under such grave implications, threats born from what was merely a misunderstanding,” Lady Matilda continued, her expression shifting to one of feigned sympathy. Carrack couldn’t discern whether her concern was genuine or merely a facade, adding another layer to his unease. “It left me with few alternatives,” she continued, her voice a mix of resignation and veiled threat.
“What have you done?” Carrack demanded, his voice quivering as panic surged within him, his heart pounding against his chest. “Where am I? Where is everyone?”
Lady Matilda’s reply was dismissive. “You stand exactly where you are, Lord Carrack, and they are where they are. Your questions miss the mark.”
Anger flushed Carrack’s face red, his frustration boiling over. Reaching for his sidearm, he began, “I swear by all the gods—”
“There is but one God who matters now,” Lady Matilda interrupted, her voice sharp with conviction. “And you stand in their presence! Look above, and witness.”
The unseen force above pressed down harder, its compelling pull intensifying with every moment. Carrack’s resolve wavered as the urge to look skyward grew stronger. Gasping for breath, he desperately sought a shred of self-control, but anger and disorientation clouded his mind.
Frantically, he stomped around, shouting for anyone, any assistance, but the more he resisted, the more intense his discomfort became. Then, to his horror, shadowy figures began to materialize in the edges of his vision, creeping ever closer. Overwhelmed by panic, Carrack spun toward Lady Matilda, his movements erratic, and drew his pistol, aiming it squarely at her.
“Let me out,” Carrack’s voice cracked, the pistol quivering in his unsteady hands. “Let me out!”
Lady Matilda raised her palms in a gesture of appeasement. “Lord Carrack, I am here to help you. Please, try to calm yourself.”
“No!” He jabbed the pistol forward, his whole body shaking. “Don’t tell me to fucking calm down! Let me out of here, Matilda! Right now!”
“I’m trying to free you, but you aren’t listening.” Lady Matilda replied, taking a cautious step toward him. “Just let me have one more session with you and you’ll see clearly.”
With each step she took, a heavy thud resonated, sending a chill through Carrack, his terror palpable. He cocked the pistol, his voice rising in desperation. “Stay back! Let me out!”
Thud.
“I’m warning you!”
Thud.
“Matilda!”
Thud.
A resounding crack shattered the tense silence as Carrack’s finger squeezed the trigger. In the briefest moment, a flash illuminated his face, and smoke wisped from the pistol’s barrel. A wave of relief momentarily washed over him as the oppressive force and its menacing pull dissipated, the encroaching shadows melting away into nothingness. He inhaled deeply, savoring the sudden ease in breathing.
But as the smoke drifted away, a horrifying realization took hold. There, in front of him, stood a staggered Alaina, her hands clutched at her abdomen where blood blossomed across her coat. A thin line of blood trickled from the corner of her mouth. Her eyes, wide with shock and tinged with a sense of betrayal, locked onto Carrack, silently conveying the depth of her pain.
Cries from Crow seemed to fade into a distant hum as Carrack’s ears rang with a piercing, disorienting tone, the aftermath of his own action reverberating through his consciousness. Paralyzed with horror, he watched, helpless, as Alaina slowly collapsed into the mud. Her hands reached out, grasping at empty air, her body convulsing in agony as she struggled for breath.
But just as clarity began to seep back into Carrack’s shocked senses and he lurched forward to help, the ground beneath Alaina churned. In a moment that defied belief, she was drawn down into the earth, vanishing beneath the muddy surface without a trace.