Chapter 37

The men’s stunned silence was pierced only by the chill wind driving the rain across the square. Carrack’s eyes remained wide open, unblinking, as he struggled to comprehend the surreal disappearance, his hand loosening its hold on the pistol until it clattered into the mud below. Crow approached cautiously, each step weighted with disbelief, his gaze fixed on the spot where Alaina had vanished into the earth.

“You shot her,” Crow uttered, his voice hollow with shock.

Carrack’s words stumbled out in a frantic defense. “I thought it was her … I swear I saw Matilda.”

“You shot her,” Crow repeated, barely holding together. “And then … she was just swallowed by the earth. What in the world … was that? Was it … Was it because of that?” Slowly, his gaze shifted toward the statue, his earlier resolve crumbling as he confronted the silent, imposing figure.

Crow continued speaking, but Carrack’s ears rang with his own repeating assertions, drowning out any other sound. He was fixated, his voice breaking as he repeatedly insisted that he had seen Matilda, not Alaina. A maelstrom of unanswered questions swirled in his mind until Crow’s firm grip on his back jolted him back to the present.

“Sir!” Crow shouted. “Snap out of it!”

“I’m here, I’m here!” Carrack responded shakily, as much a declaration to himself as to Crow. “It must have been the statue; it has to be. We need … We need—”

“To leave, now,” Crow interjected. “This place is a damn trap!”

“No!” Carrack’s voice cut through the uncertainty. Despite every instinct screaming for retreat, he refused to flee from the statue again. “We’re going to put an end to this now, before it spirals further out of control.”

But as he steeled himself, the relentless rain that had been a constant backdrop to their plight slowed to a mere drizzle and then ceased altogether. The once-howling wind subsided into an unnerving stillness, leaving nothing but heavy, stale air to caress their skin, raising chills that had nothing to do with the cold.

Carrack scanned the restless soldiers, noting their jittery movements and whispered conversations, a collective tension bristling through the ranks. Amidst the unease, one figure stood out: Pugh, detached from the rest, his gaze fixed upward, seemingly entranced by the sky above the statue.

Quickly others began to take notice. One by one, soldiers halted their murmurs and movements, their attention drawn skyward, faces etched with a mix of curiosity and dread. The oppressive sensation from above slowly enveloped Carrack once more, an invisible weight pressing down, demanding his attention be cast upwards.

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“Crow,” Carrack hissed urgently, “get the dynamite, now.” But when he turned to his second-in-command, Crow was unresponsive, his eyes locked onto the heavens, entranced by whatever spectacle loomed above. Carrack grabbed him, shaking him with force until the daze broke. “Move, get the damn dynamite!”

Crow’s response came with a tremor, his face pale with shock, but he nodded, summoning a deep, almost primal resolve. He hurriedly moved amongst the soldiers, snapping them out of their own stupors and rallying them to prepare for action.

Carrack forced himself to keep his gaze downward, enduring the relentless pressure and resisting the compulsion to look up. He felt every muscle tense in defiance, sweat beading on his brow from the exertion of his will. The intermittent thuds seemed designed to break him, to lure his eyes away, but he steadfastly refused to succumb.

Yet, the environment itself betrayed him. The ground, littered with puddles from the earlier rain, acted as nature’s mirrors, unwittingly reflecting the haunting luminescence from above. The moment he caught sight of the eerie glow in the water, his resolve crumbled. The tension drained from his body, and almost as if drawn by a string, his head tilted upward in a smooth, inevitable motion, his eyes finally locking onto the spectral orbs that hovered in the sky.

The night sky, previously shrouded in darkness, now played host to four radiant orbs, each emitting a ghostly light in varied colors. They floated aloft, seemingly indifferent to the cloud cover that failed to dim their eerie brilliance. Every soldier, their gaze lifted as if compelled by an unseen force, stood transfixed by the celestial display. A profound, unsettling silence engulfed the square.

Carrack’s mouth opened slightly, a wordless attempt at speech or perhaps a gasp of fright, but no sound emerged. Nature itself seemed to pause in reverence to the spectacle: the rain had ceased, the once-vigorous wind reduced to a mere whisper, and the surrounding sea’s continuous roar quieted to a distant murmur. The world around them, it seemed, held its collective breath in the face of the inexplicable.

The allure of the orbs was irresistible, their serene light searing into Carrack’s very being as he found himself drawn deeper into their gaze. It was as if he peered through a window to another realm or bore witness to an event that transcended his understanding, overwhelming every sense. The solidity of the world around him seemed to dissolve under their influence, everything bending to their will.

Carrack felt an ethereal lightness taking over; his breaths came more easily, and the weight of his thoughts lifted. A sensation of purification washed over him as the occasional distant thuds once again punctuated the silence, now sounding like echoes of a departing entity.

This time, Carrack felt no instinct to turn away from the mesmerizing light. Any resistance had evaporated; his body relaxed into surrender, his mind succumbed to numbness, and his gaze remained locked on the orbs. Whispering voices began to encircle him, their origins unknown, speaking in tongues beyond his understanding. As the murmurs swelled into sharp, accusatory tones, a deep, visceral fear surged within him, yet he found himself unable to move or respond.

The whispers escalated into loud, haunting echoes, filling his ears and mind. The periphery of his vision started to fade to black, his heart thudding painfully against his chest as his breaths seemed drawn out toward the heavens. A tingling numbness spread throughout him, consuming all sensation until the encroaching darkness claimed his sight completely. With one final, labored breath, Carrack’s consciousness slipped away, leaving him adrift in the void.