Healing Wounds in Arabarb
By Charles Matthias
Calephas had promised him that he wouldn't freeze
to death, but Lindsey still shivered as he
pressed his knees to his chest and alternately
leaned from one side or the other to warm his
arms still bound in shackles on either side.
Occasional gusts of warm air billowed up the long
chimney to console him, but most of the time all
he felt was the cold stones against which his
naked body was pressed. Everything was dark and
he could hear nothing but the gurgling of water far below.
At first, he tried to close his eyes and will
himself to enter a slumber as a surcease from his
anguish. But the litany of horrors paraded itself
through his mind as if they were marching in a
circle through the town square and he was locked
in a stockade with no choice but to watch.
Calephas towered over him as he lay sprawled on a
bed whose satin comforts felt more like a
thousand nails pressed against his back. He
wanted to flinch away as that man's long fingers
stroked across his naked flesh, massaging it as
if it were a hunk of beef flank at the market. He
could hear that monster's vile speech cajole him
and taunt him as well with predictions on how his
body would betray him and enjoy everything that was done to him.
Seeing that monster's image disperse with the
throaty growl of Gmork was for a moment a blessed
relief. But then the creature that melted from a
man-like visage to one that almost seemed the
noble countenance of a wolf Keeper began to
speak. Not to Lindsey, but to his friends. Lined
up against a wall were the three birds, each with
one of those golden baubles placed in front of
them. Lubec's was already glowing, but after a
minute of badgering and bludgeoning their minds
with his long, blood-red tongue, the baubles
before Quoddy and Machias became brilliant bronze
beacons and their eyes slavish and utterly devoted.
Lindsey cried and shook his head from side to
side as his mind fixed on the image of each of
the birds one by one throwing themselves at
Gmork's slavering jaws while cawing in ecstasy.
Then he was in Calephas's alchemical laboratory,
his father Alfwig before him. Calephas stood
behind him, lifting the hammer high as Alfwig
spoke of his love for the dragon who was
Lindsey's mother. Lindsey shouted in terror and
only just made the image vanish before the hammer came crashing down.
He beat his head against his arm and cried. Words
of prayer danced upon his lips but seemed to die
before they took voice. So many other names and
faces flashed before him, Pharcellus, Strom, his
mother Elizabaeg, his lost brother Andrig,
Vysterag, Gerhard, and then his many friends from
Metamor, Jessica, Charles, Michael, James, Kayla,
Lance, Tathom, and so many more. Nor could he
forget the others who had accompanied him on his
journey to Marzac, Jerome, Andares, Abafouq,
Guernef, Qan-af-årael. All of them took their
place and then vanished into a chaotic maelstrom churning about him.
And with all of those images in mind, the
frightened little boy descended into sleep.
Lindsey was a man again, and around him were
strange halls and vaulted walls with tapestries
and bright colors. Metamor Keep. He saw no one
else as he started to walk down the long passage.
Little alcoves hid suits of armor suited for
humans or statues of old rulers or dignitaries
from centuries past. The few windows he saw
showed an expanse covered in a blanket of soft
snow, with homes that seemed more typical of
Arabarb than Metamor but homes nevertheless. No
smoke trailed from their chimneys, and no one
dared go outside. Was there anyone even here?
Lindsey began running down the hall, glancing out
every window and checking every alcove, but he
found nothing more than he had already seen.
After counting twenty statues, each more beastly
in appearance than the last, he finally realized
that the hallway had neither turn nor
intersection. He stopped in his run, and glanced
behind him. The hall continued forever in that direction too.
He pulled at his bread in thought for a moment.
Why was Kyia keeping him in this endless hall?
Was there something he wasn't supposed to see?
The Keep had never stymied him like this in the
past. He remembered Charles describing a tunnel
underneath the Keep and the Valley that had
seemed to him completely straight and that had
run for several miles without offering any sign
that it actually ended. He had also described a
room with no doors and in which up and down could
no longer be discerned. Could this be something
like that? But why trap him here?
And just how had he come here anyway?
Lindsey turned to the nearest window and felt
against the stone. The window was a long narrow
slit, one that he could slide his arm through,
but nothing more. He felt cold and ice outside
along the walls, but nothing that he could grasp.
He grunted as he struggled and pushed, pressing
his face into the narrow crevice as if it could squeeze through like lard.
You cannot get out that way.
He stiffened at the sound of the voice, and tried
to turn around. His elbow caught in the crack and
he grunted and pulled, twisting this way and
that, until, scraping the skin, he finally
managed to dislodge his arm from the window. But
when he turned around he didn't see anyone in the hall.
I'm here.
Lindsey spun again but still there was nothing. Who are you? Show yourself!
You'll see me when you know me.
Lindsey grunted and growled under his breath as
he stalked down the hallway, looking anew in
every corner, and checking behind himself every
few paces. The suits of armor, he quickly
realized, were exactly the same. He took the
helmet off its stand and carried it with him.
Each alcove seemed to be about fifty paces apart.
One would hold the armor and the next a statue
that had at first been human but now seemed to be
of a man turning into a beast.
When he reached the next suit of armor, his eyes
narrowed in suspicion. This suit of armor had no
head. He glanced down at the helmet he carried,
and then placed it back on the suit, but
backwards. After securing the straps, he
continued on his way, moving at a brisk pace. He
ignored the statue in his haste. The next suit of
armor was complete but with the helmet turned backward.
What is this place/ Lindsey asked. Kyia! Why are you doing this to me?
Kyia? Would she do this to you?
Who else? he asked as he spun on his feet. As
before, the speaker, whose voice vacillated
between humor and a deep gurgling rumble, was
invisible. Who else would trap me here?
Trapped? Or hiding?
Lindsey scowled, grabbed the helmet, strode over
to the window opposite, and repeatedly dashed the
helmet against the stone. Long white score marks
rent the gray granite blocks in a way that could
not be mistaken. He then tossed the helmet back
into the alcove and continued on his way.
A hundred paces later he saw beneath the window
those same marks defacing the wall. And in the
alcove was a set of armor whose head lay nestled
between its metal feet. Lindsey roared in
frustration. How could he walk a hundred paces
and end up back where he had begun? How could
this be? He yanked the arm off the armor and beat
it against the breastplate until the entire suit
crashed to the ground in a resounding clangor
that echoed from either direction.
Now do you feel better?
Lindsey threw the arm down and stomped back into
the main hallway. His head tilted back and he howled, Where are you?
Keep looking.
Lindsey glanced at the alcove, hoping briefly
that there might be some secret revealed behind
it, but all he saw was more of the granite blocks
so typical of Metamor. He pressed against it with
one hand, and then continued on his way in the endless hall.
He wished that any of his friends were here. Even
if they did not know a way out, they could at
least help him think through what he contented
against. The suits of armor did not change, and
the windows were too narrow to escape through,
not to mention showing him a town that was
apparently empty and far less prosperous than he
knew Metamor to be. What did that leave?
Lindsey turned to the next statue he came to and
studied it. The legs were bent like an animal
Keeper with claws on four-toed paws, suggestions
of soft, thick fur in the stone. A long canine
tail pointed down from his waist, flush with
smoky gray fur. The arms were tipped with claws
and held at his sides as if he were stalking
toward prey. The face though was not completely
that of a Keeper, as it retained some human
dimensions, though the snout was pronounced and
tear marks were against the eyes. They seemed to gleam at him.
Lindsey stared for several seconds before the
horror gripped him and he stumbled backward. Gmork!
The voice was behind him and he felt those hands
curl over his shoulders. The same. Welcome back. Your Father has missed you.
Lindsey tried to spin about but the grip on his
shoulders was so tight that all he managed to do
was press his skin against long claws. Blood
drained from where he'd been pierced, and to his
horror, fur began to sprout too. Gmork's voice
was lush with sultry exuberance. I am your Father!
Nay! Lindsey swung his head back but struck
nothing. The claws pressed deeper and the blood
dribbled down his chest. Lines of fur began to
spring up everywhere the blood touched.
You are my pup. You listen to my voice. You love the sound of my voice.
He shook his head, and tried to grab those paws
to wrench them free, but his arms were stiff and
didn't want to move like that. The alcove with
the statue of Gmork began to recede before him as
he felt his body begin to warp.
My beloved pup, my son. I am your Father and you
love me. You feel it, that same hunger I do. That
same joy , that revelry in being a beast. The
voice growled deeply and it made Lindsey's chest
throb as the fur continue to spread no well past
where his blood had drained. He gasped as his
legs began to twist and his feet swell. His toe
nails hardened and grew long and sharp. His heel
vanished away as the fur spread in disordered
patches across graying flesh. The fur was a
bright red just like his hair and his blood.
That hunger swells in you, grows. Gmork's voice
now came slowly, as if he savored every word like
a juicy piece of meat. That hunger, that need,
is something you cannot deny. Something you do
not want to deny. Something you will never deny.
It is... It is you. My pup. My son. Your Father's
whelp and delight. Your brother's brother. A
beast. True. Need. Hunger. Flesh. Flesh.
Lindsey gasped as he felt swelling inside him a
deep hunger, a desire to feast and thrust his
jaws into a kill and tear out every sinew and
gorge himself on entrails and the screams of
death. His tongue pressed against the back of his
teeth, sharper and longer, as his face began to
stretch. He turned it to one side and lapped at
the blood, its iron making his body shudder and sprout even more fur.
Oh child of mine. Welcome back to me. Who am I?
Lindsey gasped, a tail wriggling out between his legs, Father!
The claws left his shoulders, and the beastly
Gmork came around his side, oddly balanced on all
fours, grinning with golden light in his eyes. Come.
Lindsey rolled onto all fours and loped after his
father, so very, very hungry. The statue had now
receded so far that a new passage had opened.
Through this they came into Metamor's audience
chamber. The throne where Duke Thomas met his
subjects to hear their needs was draped in
Gmork's fine furs and around it lounged his other
children as they gnawed on the flesh of that
self-same equine lord. Yet though they ate,
Thomas did not seem to die. His eyes were wide
and lost, his lips opening and flecking as if his
body were being massaged with exquisite tenderness.
The hall was fouled with so many other bodies and
other Keepers waiting in bowed adoration toward
the dozen or so pups who all turned and lifted
their heads at Gmork's arrival. Lindsey saw them and recognized them.
The first he saw had a very long tail now coated
in disparate patches of wiry, brown fur, though
the rest of it remained scaly. His face bore a
swollen black nose over a pair of still
pronounced incisors, but they were nothing
compared to the massive tusks that had become of
his fangs. A black patch covered one feverish
dark eye, and his fur-covered ears turned with
devilish delight at the coming of their father.
He sank his fangs and incisors into Thomas's hank
and the blood smeared across his face and snout.
Beside him was another pup whose tail was marked
with rings and his face a dark mask, but they
were the only vestiges of the animal whose nature
the curse had shared with him. The rest of him
was a coal-black wolf; even the blood that
splattered his body seemed to darken until it had no color left at all.
Across from them was another pup, this one whose
fur was wide and thick, almost like feathers, and
whose snout came to a hard point at its tip.
Golden eyes wide as saucers seemed to piece the air like a thousand knives.
And then beside her was another pup with long
wide tail with a white stripe down the back.
There was even a littler pup whose face was
darkened and suggested a human form but not quite.
Lindsey knew their names, or what had been their
names, but could not draw a single one of them to
mind. He saw the horse flesh and salivated with a
hunger that could not be appeased. He felt a
slight touch from his father's tail and bolted
forward, driving his fangs into Thomas's neck.
The horse whinnied in pleasure before his throat
was torn free and the blood coursing over his face.
Gmork reclined in the throne, allowing his
deformed legs to dangle across the dais, toes
stretching out as if to bless his children who
gorged before him. With a wave of his hand,
several of the mesmerized Keepers came forward,
crawling on their bellies. Lindsey saw Michael
the plaid beaver, Tathom the bull, and other from
the timber crews., as well as Nahum the fox and
Tallis the rat from the Writer's Guild. Their
voices moaned in supplication, each of them
begging to be a feast for Gmork's pleasure.
Gmork gestured with one finger toward the beaver.
You. Give yourself to my newest son.
The beaver exuded delight as he crawled over
toward Lindsey, long tail slapping at the ground
in excitement. Lindsey lifted his snout from
Thomas's ruined neck and saw the vacant
effervescence in the beaver's face. He could not
discern the individual words dribbling across the
rodent's tongue, but the raw need to be a meal
for his former friend was an agony to him as long as it was delayed.
Lindsey leaped and buried his fangs in the
beaver's side, yanking him over onto his back.
The tail began to slap the floor with delight as
Lindsey tore at the plaid beaver's insides. Past
the cream colored flesh he saw that his once time
friend's innards were also a mix of black and red
squares. Michael sang a song, a paean to Gmork
who reclined with the air of a sadistic god as
all of Metamor's audience chamber was stained
with their effulgence. His voice exuded irony.
And why were you hiding from all of this?
Lindsey drove his head into the chest cavity and
ripped free the still beating heart in his jaws.
This he chewed and splattered across the floor,
before tipping back his head and howling with conscienceless delight.
----------
May He bless you and keep you in His grace and love,
Charles Matthias
!DSPAM:4dca51fe195131804284693!
_______________________________________________
MKGuild mailing list
[email protected]
http://lists.integral.org/listinfo/mkguild
