[Mkguild] The Last Tale of Yajakali - Chapter LXVII

[C. Matthias]

Last of the updates for now.  I start work on new material this weekend.

Metamor Keep: The Last Tale of Yajakali
By Charles Matthias

Chapter LXVII

To Kill a Sondecki

         The morning dawned late, grey and for 
the miasma of the swamp, cool.  But the Keepers 
and their allies had been awake for over an hour 
by then.  Their tents were packed and put 
away.  A meagre meal filled their 
stomachs.  Weapons waited ready at their 
side.  Those from Metamor all bore their 
spider-silk armour.  Despite the length of their 
journey, not a one of them had a weary eye.  Too 
much was at stake for that on this day, the 
Winter Solstice, when all was to be decided.
         “Everyone ready?” Jerome asked.  The 
Sondecki was dressed in black tunic and breeches 
with the clan symbol embroidered along the collar 
and cuffs.  Though stained on both legs and 
across the chest and back from mud and cobwebs 
they were also the cleanest things he had.
         “In a moment,” James said.  The donkey 
draped his tunic over a tall rock and tightened 
the buckles on his spider silk vest. “Sorry,” he 
said as he wriggled his shirt back on.
         “Wait,” Jessica said and hopped closer 
to the donkey.  She brushed one wing across the 
stone and gazed at it hard. “This stone looks odd.”
         “Let me see,” Charles said.  He started 
to walk toward it when a hand arrested 
him.  Though old it seemed to possess a strength 
beyond its physical flesh.  The rat turned and 
saw Qan-af-årael shake his head. “What is it?”
         The Åelf motioned for Jessica and James 
to step back and said, “We have reached the 
boundaries of the ancient city of Jagoduun.  This 
is all that remains of what may have been a way station.”
         “You don’t know?” James asked in surprise.
         “I was born many generations after the 
fall of Jagoduun.  No one who has ventured this 
far has ever returned alive, or at least, was not 
corrupted and a slave to Marzac.” Qan-af-årael 
sighed heavily and shook his head. “These stones 
have lived in this desolation for a long 
time.  It is not safe to touch them very 
long.  And it would be unwise to intrude upon 
them, Matthias.  They would not welcome you.”
         The rat glanced at the tall stone, 
swallowed, and pet the vine cris-crossing his 
chest. “Won’t we see more of these?  Don’t we have to go into the Chateau?”
         “Yes, we will risk ourselves.  But let us not do so until we must.”
         “Good point,” the rat admitted.
         Jerome drummed his fingers against one leg. “Are we ready then?”
         “Let’s get this over with,” Lindsey 
muttered and hefted his axe over one shoulder.  Nobody objected.
         After they’d killed the black bird, the 
swamp had given way to rolling ground thick with 
trees, vines, ferns, and other assorted 
plant-life.  The stretches of marshy water were 
almost completely gone.  The mugginess still 
clung to the air, but for the first time since 
the Rheh had left them they found their path an easy one.
         Despite this, all of them felt a growing 
sense of unease.  As the ground hardened, so too 
did their sense of something ahead of them.  It 
was nebulous at first, but what they first took 
for a whimsy brought on by anxiety soon grew into 
something more tangible.  Its most salient 
characteristic at first was its mere 
presence.  Unlike a fantasy, this they could not 
will away.  Even when thinking of other things, 
when offering prayers, when counting tree limbs 
they passed, it remained there as certain as a lodestone.
         As they walked they noticed more and 
more stones like the one James had discovered 
that morning.  Some were narrow like obelisks 
sunk into the earth.  Others were broad and flat 
but they couldn’t tell if they were part of an 
ancient building, a road, or something else 
entirely.  The stones were at first covered by 
moss, but as the day wore on and the sun burned 
away the earlier mist, the moss too dwindled 
until bare rock was exposed smooth and 
untouched.  Grey with lines of verdigris 
cavorting over their surface, they beckoned and repulsed with equal intensity.
         Charles especially had to steer clear of 
those wardens.  Whenever their path led them past 
a collection of stones standing like a crown 
arising out of the earth, he felt his flesh 
harden into the familiar granite and his toes 
would dig into the ground.  He wrapped his 
fingers all the tighter about the vine and 
sniffed the air.  Though it stank with a fetid 
odour he couldn’t name, it reminded him of his 
flesh and kept the stone at bay.  When the 
temptations grew too severe he grabbed the amulet 
meant to protect him from corruption and let its 
corners dig into his palm until they drew blood.
         After passing one particularly long 
stretch of stone, Abafouq broke down in tears and 
beat his fists against the ground.  Everyone 
turned to see what was wrong, while Guernef 
nudged the little Binoq with his beak.  Kayla 
knelt down next to him and wrapped one arm around 
his back.  She glared at the Nauh-kaee who backed 
off a pace. “Are you all right?” she asked.
         Abafouq put his hands to his face and 
shook his head. “So much wrong I see!  So much 
hate.  They... they never listened to me.  It... 
It says they will listen to me if to it I 
swear.  Help me!  The fear in me greater than I 
know.” He shuddered into Kayla’s arms, even as 
Jessica approached and lowered one wing to brush 
across the amulet dangling from Abafouq’s neck.
         “What’s happening?” Kayla asked.
         “The same thing happening to all of us,” 
the hawk replied angrily. “The corruption is breaking down our protection.”
         “I’ve been feeling terrible 
temptations,” James admitted. “Maybe Abafouq is talking about his people?”
         The Binoq shot the donkey a hideous 
glare. “Do not speak of them!  They...” the anger 
in his eyes faded to misery again. “Oh Guernef help me!”
         “His amulet is weak,” Jessica said. 
“Help me and we can give it some strength.”
         Charles and the other warriors kept a 
careful watch while Jessica, Guernef, and 
Qan-af-årael knelt over Abafouq and each touched 
the amulet with wing, beak, or hand.  A few 
minutes of quiet words and gentle touches brought 
the struggling Abafouq to stillness and dried his 
tears.  At last, he nodded his head, face grave 
but clear, and said, “I thank you.  I feel ready 
again.  This corruption is terrible.  We need to 
watch each other before it strikes again.”
         “Agreed,” Qan-af-årael said with a 
strange edge of wariness to his voice. “Let us 
waste no more time.  The Chateau is near.”
         He didn’t have to say that for them to 
know it.  The presence that loomed ahead of them 
was now so concrete that they could feel outlines 
in the sky marking its extent.  Charles fancied 
he could make out a silhouette through the trees, 
a silhouette formed not by shadows but from pure 
weight.  A parapet there, a long wall there, all 
of it seemed to grow both in shape and in menace as they walked.
         Charles also felt that presence that 
taunted Abafouq lurking at the edge of his 
mind.  Images flashed through his mind of his 
triumphal return to Sondeshara.  He saw himself 
wresting the robe of white from the coward Yoenel 
and donning it himself.  And then he would truly 
put an end to the tragedies begun under the 
previous White, Brothus, the very man who had 
driven Charles from the order to begin with.  And 
then... Charles shook his head and banished the 
thoughts from his mind.  The voice wanted him to be the very monster he hated.
         He recalled his efforts to think of 
Kimberly to ward off the corruption, but knew 
better than to do that.  It was best to think of 
nothing at all.  Any thought at all could give 
their enemy the chance to drive them to 
evil.  Thoughts of his faith were turned against 
him.  Even the Song of the Sondeck availed him 
nothing.  He jumped from one thought to the next, 
trying only to put one paw before the other on their way.
         The weight ahead of them pulsed with a 
seething anger.  Charles felt as if he were about 
to step over some abrupt edge and fall into a pit 
without bottom.  There was something other than a 
castle ahead of them.  He could sense a crack in 
the earth, some chasm into which nothing could 
come out alive.  It stretched impossibly far and 
never reached its end.  The mere thought of it 
sends shivers down the rat’s tail.  He closed his 
eyes and forced himself to take the next 
step.  And then the next one.  And the one after 
that.  And walked right into James.
         “Sorry about that, I...” the words died 
on his tongue as soon as he opened his 
eyes.  They had all stopped to stare, not a one 
of them daring to utter a word.  Where James and 
Jerome stood the mangrove trees stopped.  A broad 
plain bereft of any grass lay before them.  The 
earth was parched and cracked like many places 
near the Darkündlicht mountains he’d known in his youth.
         In the middle of the field stood a 
rather unimposing castle fashioned from yellow 
brick.  It was replete with squat towers domed 
with febrile gray tiling like a giant hat.  Ivy 
crawled up the walls, chocking windows and 
clogging the battlements.  What few windows they 
could see stared at them like empty eyes, dark 
and open.  There were no panes and there was only 
a solitary door in the base of the castle so 
unremarkable that it was almost 
unnoticeable.  Charles was reminded of the cities 
of the Boreaux in Kitchlande.  Those had been 
quaint, humble, but full of zest and good cheer.
         This place, despite everything wholesome 
in its appearance, seemed more a blight on the 
land than the parched earth.  This, the Chateau 
Marzac, was unutterably evil.  And every one of 
them could feel the malevolence poisoning the air 
like a virulent haze on a hot summer day.
         “It is nearly noon,” Qan-af-årael said 
and his voice broke the stranglehold the Chateau 
had over their eyes.  One by one they turned to 
the ancient Åelf and then glanced into the 
sky.  The sun hung to the south over the castle 
high in the sky.  Charles had grown used to the 
winter skies in Metamor and to see the sun as 
high as it was made it difficult to truly believe they’d reached the Solstice.
         “That’s it then?” Lindsey asked.  There 
was a hint of disappointment in his voice, but 
Charles knew that the northerner was putting on 
false bravado.  Whether for himself or for the others the rat wasn’t sure.
         “That is the Chateau Marzac,” 
Qan-af-årael replied. “We need to find the 
entrance to the ancient city of Jagoduun that lays beneath it.”
         “The whole city’s down there?” Kayla asked.
         “Not according to what I have read,” 
Abafouq replied.  The Binoq appeared much calmer 
than he’d been only a short while before.  He 
rubbed his fingers over the talisman at his neck. 
“Only a few places survived the 
destruction.  Those places built by the Åelf prince.”
         “By Yajakali,” Charles said.  Both 
Qan-af-årael and Andares lowered their eyes at 
the mention of the name.  Abafouq frowned for a moment and then nodded.
         “There is no need to keep waiting,” 
Habakkuk said softly.  The kangaroo kept one hand 
pressed to his side and generally avoided the 
looks others gave him.  Ever since the night he’d 
burst into tears after Lindsey had gone to speak 
with him he’d said very little to any of 
them.  There was a distance in his eyes that 
refused to go away.  But for the moment he 
appeared to live in the present. “Our enemies 
certainly won’t wait.  Now I don’t think they 
have left any traps for us on the plain but we should be cautious.”
         “I’ll go first,” Jerome offered.  Nobody 
objected.  With great care, the Sondecki stepped 
past the line of trees and gingerly set his foot 
down on the parched earth.  It cracked and 
crunched beneath his boot, but no trap sprung on 
him.  He stepped over each crack one by 
one.  Once he was a good twelve paces out and 
nothing had struck him dead, the others followed 
him, being careful to only step where he 
stepped.  But their eyes ever strayed to the old 
and crumbling citadel.  Its empty windows watched 
them with a cold, indifferent regard.
         Charles held his breath as he hopped one 
foot at a time over the jagged earth.  Even 
though they’d run short enough on supplies that 
he could be two footed again, he still felt 
nervous each time a toe claw clipped a mound of dirt.
         Behind him, James cried out in surprise 
as the dirt spat and a gust of hot air thrust 
through where his hoof had trod a moment 
before.  All of them stopped as the donkey 
tottered and windmilled his arms.  The gust of 
air passed leaving a black hoof-shaped 
hole.  Charles reached out an arm and grabbed his 
friend’s sleeve. “Hold on!” the rat hissed 
through his teeth.  The vine wound around his arm 
and over the donkey’s to help.
         Uncertainly, James set his hoof down in 
the centre of another patch of earth.  It sank 
with a hissing sigh but did not erupt. “Thank 
you,” James gasped, his eyes still mesmerized by the simmering effusion.
         “What’s happened to this land?” Kayla 
asked as her gaze went from hole to Chateau.
         “A taste of what will happen if we fail, perhaps?” James suggested.
         “No,” Habakkuk intoned ruefully.  His 
eyes stared wide at the ground.  He perched on 
the tips of his long feet, a position that made 
him sway dangerously from side to side.  Lindsey 
stood behind him and kept the kangaroo steady. “That would be much worse.”
         Andares hissed. “The door is 
waiting.  Keep moving.” He gestured with the 
point of his ivory-handled sword.  The solitary 
door in the yellow edifice seemed to disappear 
into shadow as if it were opening.
         Jerome continued leading them through 
the barren field of cracked earth.  Charles made 
sure James was okay before turning and following 
his fellow Sondecki.  The vine wrapped tighter 
about his chest as if huddling in for warmth.  He 
gingerly patted it with his fingers and swallowed 
the lump building in his throat.  The walls of 
the Chateau loomed higher and higher and its 
abandoned towers glared down at them.  Charles 
lowered his eyes to the ground and tried to keep 
his focus on his steps and nothing else.
         “The door’s open,” Jerome said.  Charles 
looked up and swallowed again.  Before the door 
was a sloping set of nine steps that led down to 
the ground.  The steps showed no signs of wear 
even after the centuries.  On each step was a 
single symbol inscribed.  The first symbol was of 
a curly line with two slashes through it.  Each 
next symbol grew more and more complex until the 
final one was a set of curves intersecting and 
cris-crossing so many times that their eyes hurt just looking at it.
         “I’ve seen that before!” Kayla exclaimed 
gesturing at the first symbol.
         “As have I,” Jessica added, folding her 
wings behind her back. “They were on the 
censer.  Wessex had notes studying them.”
         “I saw them in Anef’s journal,” the 
skunk said softly. “I think he was one of the human wizards who... who...”
         “Who aided the sieging army that 
Yajakali destroyed,” Andares finished for her. “These marks are recent.”
         “Is anyone else concerned that the door 
is open?” Jerome asked, his voice strained and 
tense.  He pulled his hands close and stared past 
the opening.  Charles stepped to his side and 
James moved in closer behind him.  The interior 
of the entrance huddled in shadow.  The rat could 
discern the faint outlines of furniture, tables and chairs, but no walls.
         “They know we’re coming,” Charles 
said.  He rolled his Sondeshike in his paws. “We 
have to go in.  Jerome and I will go 
first.  James, Andares, Lindsey, you cover our backs.”
         “We’ll follow,” Jessica said and lifted 
one talon. “We’ll need magic to survive this place.”
         Charles nodded glumly, extended his 
Sondeshike and blew a prayer into his 
paws.  Jerome put one foot on the steps, leaned 
onto it, and then when nothing happened breathed 
a sign of relief.  He took the steps one at a 
time, being careful not to step on the 
chevrons.  Charles followed him up.  The donkey 
stayed so close to him that he nearly stepped on 
the rat’s tail.  Lindsey and Andares came up 
next, the northerner brandishing his axe, the Åelf his ivory-handled blade.
         Jerome paused as he reached the 
door.  Nothing stirred beyond and there was no 
sound from the swamp.  All was in somnolent 
repose.  Charles slid up beside his fellow 
Sondecki and prodded the shadowy entrance with 
one of the brass ferules of his Sondeshike.  Nothing happened.
         The two Sondeckis glanced at each other, 
nodded, and jumped through.  The interior was not 
as dark as they had supposed.  Lamps were lit 
along the walls bringing a sepulchral gloom into 
the lightly apportioned chamber.  A high vaulted 
ceiling disappeared into the darkness, while the 
scattered remnants of tables and chairs that had 
once been opulent stretched to the walls on all 
sides.  Open doorways stood in each wall.
         Behind them, James stepped through the 
doorway. “Do you see anything?” he asked in a whisper.
         “No,” Charles admitted and 
turned.  Something emerged from the shadows 
behind the open door.  A very familiar man 
dressed in black. “James!  Look out!”
         The donkey jumped forward on 
instinct.  Lindsey and Andares ran forward but 
were thrown back when the door slammed shut.  The 
black-clad man spread his fingers across the 
middle of the door and a dark fire swarmed over 
the surface.  The flame rose and descended, 
twisting like a churning maelstrom at 
sea.  Crimson and orange, black and yellow, all 
mixed together and the heat of it seared their 
flesh.  Charles and Jerome backed up while James 
crawled further into the room even as the tuft of 
his tail blackened from the heat.
         Charles stepped between his friend at 
the black-clad man who now turned to face 
them.  Dark eyes sunk in shadow peered with faint 
melancholy back at him. “Krenek!” the rat spat. “What are you doing?”
         Krenek Zagrosek let his hands fall to 
his waist. “I was hoping that someone other than 
you two would be the first to walk through that door.”
         “Open the door, Krenek,” Jerome said as 
he took a few steps to one side.
         Zagrosek watched him out of one eye.  He 
gestured at the door and the wall of flame seemed 
to reach toward him with a thick protrusion. “The 
door will open by itself.  Your friends outside 
will not be able to get through.  Even if they 
break down the door the fire will kill them before yielding to their spells.”
         “It reminds me,” Charles said as he held 
his Sondeshike tightly, “of the Shrieker.”
         “Yes,” Zagrosek admitted.  His face was 
already slick with sweat from standing so close 
to the flame.  Yet, neither did his hair singe 
nor did his clothes smoulder.  “It is something 
the Underworld gave me to aid it.”
         “Let it go, Krenek.” The rat spun his 
Sondeshike once. “Any of the Marquis’s allies I 
would gladly kill.  Not you.  Please don’t make us do this.”
         Zagrosek sighed and tapped his thumbs 
together.  He eyed Jerome who continued to try to 
circle around behind him. “I would rather not 
have to kill you either, Charles, Jerome.  You 
have been my friends the whole of my life.  I 
would die for you if it would let me.  But... 
someone has to die.  And when someone does this 
door will disappear.  Of course, I won’t be 
allowing anyone access to the Marquis.”
         “Shrieker fire or not,” Jerome spat, “we will stop you.”
         “You are forgetting something, Jerome,” 
Zagrosek said with a faint laugh. “We are both 
Sondeckis.  You know as well as I do that if we 
kill one another, it will cost us our own life.”
         “If it means your death,” Charles 
replied, “there would be no more fitting way to give our lives.”
         Zagrosek laughed. “You are a new father, 
Charles.  Don’t lie to me.  I know you won’t 
sacrifice yourself like this.  Even now you’re 
trying to think of some way around the 
inevitable.” Charles grunted but didn’t say 
anything.  He knew in his heart that his old 
friend was right.  He didn’t want to give his 
life.  All he wanted was to go back to the Glen 
to be with Kimberly and his children.  He pressed 
his tongue against the back of his incisors, felt 
the vine tighten about his chest, and kept a firm grip on his Sondeshike.
         “And Jerome, if you die, you know Yoenel 
will send somebody else to find Charles, somebody 
less inclined to protect him or his family for 
his betrayal to the Sondecki.  You need to 
survive to keep them safe.” Zagrosek grinned and 
let slip his compact Sondeshike from his 
sleeve.  He twirled it between his fingers and 
shook his head. “Besides,” Zagrosek continued, 
“like I said, I don’t want to kill you.  Either 
of you.” His eyes slid to the figure crouching 
behind the rat. “Which is why I let him 
in.  That’s right, donkey.  You I can kill.”
         Charles spun the Sondeshike faster and 
interposed himself between James and their enemy. 
“You will not touch him!  James, run!  We’ll keep him away from you.”
         The donkey nodded, the whites showing in 
his eyes as he stared at Zagrosek.  He scrambled 
to his hooves, glanced about, and ran through the 
passage opposite the door of flame.
         “That won’t work,” Zagrosek chided 
without much enthusiasm. “You cannot keep me from him forever.”
         “Long enough for our friends to break 
through,” Jerome said.  Step by step he worked 
his way toward Zagrosek’s back. “You may say they 
will not get through, but I say you do not know their strength.”
         Zagrosek turned toward Jerome and began 
backing up. “I was there when the Marquis subdued 
you all with a flick of his wrist.  I have no 
reason to fear the power of any of your 
friends.  Come now.  Like old times.  Let us 
fight.” He flicked his wrist and the Sondeshike 
extended.  He spun it once over his shoulders, 
around his back, then held it before him in a 
familiar Sondecki fighting stance.  Legs spread 
wide, with one hand gripping the middle of the 
Sondeshike and the other held to the side, fingers spread wide and palm empty.
         Charles ground his teeth together, 
lifted high his Sondeshike, and with Jerome at 
his side, charged his old friend.

         James gasped for breath as he ran from 
one empty room to another.  He constantly looked 
for any avenue of escape.  He well remembered 
what Zagrosek did to Rickkter in the Metamor 
belfry six months ago.  Charles, Angus, and even 
Misha complimented the donkey on his 
swordsmanship.  Just five seconds of watching the 
raccoon fight had shown him how meagre his skills 
truly were.  He wouldn’t last even that long against Zagrosek.
         The Chateau seemed to be a maze of bare 
interconnected rooms all alike.  Somewhere behind 
him he could hear the clash of metal on 
metal.  He pumped his legs and struck his hooves 
solidly against the floor.  He had to run 
faster.  Surely there had to be a way out of this 
labyrinth.  There had been windows all over the Chateau’s façade.
         The many rooms were not completely 
empty.  Remnants of furniture dotted all of them, 
and a few even bore rugs and tapestries that 
showed no signs of neglect.  Not even dust 
layered them.  Had the Marquis brought these with 
him, or had the Chateau itself preserved them for 
its own purposes?  The rooms seemed so arbitrary 
he wondered if it were not also like Metamor with 
a variable geometry.  What if it led him right back to Zagrosek?
         James brought himself to a stop and put 
one hand on the door frame.  No door stood there 
anymore.  Even the stone flaked when he put his 
weight on it.  He glanced behind him and 
shuddered when he saw the trail of hoof-prints 
through half-shattered gloss.  Zagrosek would 
find him easily even if this place were a 
maze!  He may as well have left a trail in ink.
         The donkey took a moment to breath, but 
failed to slow down his pounding heart.  His ears 
lifted and turned to follow the sounds of the 
battle.  At least there still was a battle.  He 
needed every moment to find an escape.  Where 
were all the windows?  And where were the 
stairs?  He’d seen no sets going up or 
down.  Hadn’t Qan-af-årael said they would need 
to go down into the earth beneath the Chateau?
         But first, he needed to do something 
about his hooves.  He slipped his pack from his 
shoulders and rifled through the 
contents.  Taking his spare tunic and knife, he 
cut it down the middle.  Unsteadily, he balanced 
on one hoof while tying the cloth over the 
other.  His breath came in ragged gasps and his 
eyes watered from anxiety, but he managed to cover both hooves.
         He took a few careful steps and felt a 
bit of relief to see the stone hold together.  He 
still wanted to run, but he couldn’t do that just 
yet.  Besides, with as many shadows as there were 
around him, that evil Sondecki could just emerge 
from them no matter where he ran.
         James grunted under his breath and 
scouted the room.  There were doorways on all 
four sides leading to rooms that looked much the 
same.  Except for the room on the right.  It 
looked to have once been an exquisite ballroom or 
church though the upper arches were now hidden by 
a flat wooden ceiling.  Large draperies dominated 
the far wall, while suits of armour lined the 
near wall.  To his surprise many of them were 
still in good shape, and a few even looked freshly polished.
         The donkey ignored them and made his way 
to the draperies.  A rope on the right led to a 
pulley system above, while other ropes were 
fastened taut to the wall nearby.  They 
disappeared into the wooden ceiling.  James 
ignored them and with a heave pulled the drapery 
rope.  The massive curtains parted to reveal a 
huge shaft of sunlight.  The sun spread across 
the floor so brightly he had to shield his eyes.
         In the distance he could still hear the 
clang of metal on metal. Before him was a huge 
window, the panes long since worn away.  James 
stared out at the cracked ground beneath the 
window ledge and the swampy mangroves in the 
distance.  He stuck his head out and glanced to 
either side but saw none of his friends.  They 
must all still be on the north face of the Chateau.
         Glancing down, he saw it was at least a 
ten foot drop to the ground below.  He shuddered 
at the memory of the geyser that had nearly 
blasted his leg away.  He walked over to the pair 
of taut ropes attached to the wall and with his 
sword shore one of them at head height.  The room 
groaned sullenly as he cut the rope free from the wall.
         Tying one end of the rope around the 
metal fixtures that had once held the panes in 
place, he tossed the other end out the 
window.  Except it fell one foot and collected in 
a pile in mid-air.  Bewildered, James reached out 
a hand.  He could grab the rope, but no matter 
how hard he pushed, he couldn’t get past it.  He 
didn’t even feel resistance to his efforts.  It 
was like trying to grab the sun.  The ground and 
everything he saw outside was infinitely beyond his reach.
         James swore and felt the fear returning 
to his heart.  He tossed the rope to the ground 
and ran through the one other doorway in the 
room.  A trail of stone chips followed every step of his hooves.

         While Abafouq, Andares and the rest did 
what they could to break down the door, Jessica 
took to the air to find another entrance to the 
Chateau.  A quick circuit of the Chateau was 
enough to prove that there were no more 
doors.  But there were numerous windows, most of 
them too high to be useful.  There were a few 
closer to the ground that with the aid of magic 
they might climb in.  Jessica turned her wings on 
the still air and glided toward a particularly 
promising window.  Wide and tall, it neared the 
ground on the eastward side only a short walk 
from the entrance now closed to them.
         Though she could feel the air sliding 
over her feathers, the nearer to the window she 
came the slower it approached.  Finally, after 
several minutes of hanging in the air without 
having to pump her wings, Jessica realized that 
she couldn’t reach the window at all!  She could 
see beyond a room abandoned and empty, but she couldn’t actually reach it.
         Not one to give up, Jessica pumped her 
wings and circled upwards into the sky.  What few 
clouds there were shoved off to the 
southeast.  There were no other birds in the air 
for miles.  Jessica tried not to think of her 
isolation as she climbed higher and higher.  When 
she was nothing but a speck in the eyes of her 
friends, she turned down her head and beheld the 
Chateau and that single large window on the east 
face.  With a twist of her body she dived.
         The air rushed over her feathers as the 
Chateau, so small to her eyes, grew with every 
moment’s passing.  She kept her gaze fixed firmly 
on the open window as the air rushed past so 
quickly she felt as if she were nothing but an 
ordinary hawk diving for prey.  And then, as the 
world rushed to greet her, she turned her wings 
outwards and careened right for the open window.
         The air continued to rush past with 
titanic strength, her poise firm and the envy of 
any falconer.  The window was as clear before her 
as it had been before, but like before, it 
remained impossibly out of reach.  Though she 
felt as if she were falling at full speed, she 
hung motionless in the air arrested by whatever 
power ensnared the windows.  With a careful 
turning of her wings, Jessica slowed herself, or 
at least, slowed the rush of air past her.  The 
empty window stared at her without interest.
         Jessica reached for the sight of magic 
and watched as the window, once so clear, simply 
disappeared into an impenetrable and tightly 
wound mass of dark energy.  She pumped her wings 
and drew away from the wall of force holding her 
back.  Scanning to either side, she saw that the 
Chateau itself appeared to be an oblong shell of 
magic whose interior was completely severed from 
everything that lay outside.  A subtle illusion danced across its surface.
         She couldn’t reach the window because it didn’t exist!
         Jessica screeched in frustration and 
pumped her wings.  She rose above the Chateau, 
and saw that the roof was the same Where once 
there had been terraces now she saw only a 
tightly bound web of magic.  Flying to the north 
she stared at the door and noted the way the 
shield of magic bent inwards.  Did this nebulous 
force extend inside the Chateau too?  What sort 
of magic was it?  She could see what it 
accomplished but not how it had been cast or how to negate it.
         She glided down to where her friends 
fought against the door and shook her head.  She 
gingerly landed on the parched ground and grew in 
size. “There’s no other way in.  None of the 
windows are real.  The inside of the Chateau 
connects to our world only through this door.”
         “Then worse news we have,” Abafouq 
grunted.  The Binoq wiped sweat form his forehead 
and glared at the door.  The wooden exterior was 
shattered in several places, revealing a crawling 
black flame behind it. “This door we can 
destroy.  But the spell behind it will yield only to death.”
         “So there’s nothing we can do?” Jessica asked, eyes wide and furious.
         “Nothing,” Andares admitted.  He 
sheathed his sword and stepped back from the 
chiselled door. “We must wait for someone to die.”
         “But it’s just three of us against who 
knows how many in there!” Kayla objected. Her 
long tail flicked anxiously. “I want to help them!”
         “So do we all,” Lindsey grunted. “But 
you heard them.  There’s nothing we can do.”
         “We can pray,” Habakkuk breathed.  The 
kangaroo lowered his head and folded his paws 
before him.  The corners of his snout twitched 
with whispered words.  Lindsey grunted, but 
joined him.  Guernef lowered his head while 
Abafouq buried his face in the Nauh-kaee’s furry 
flanks.  The two Åelf lifted their heads back and 
sang a haunting melody so thin that it hurt their 
ears.  Kayla and Jessica glanced at each other, 
grimaced, and then bowed their heads to offer 
their prayers for their friend’s protection.

         Zagrosek danced to the side and struck 
his Sondeshike against the rat’s.  He then spun 
on his heels and swiped the other end of his 
staff through Jerome’s legs.  Jerome jumped and 
threw a punch narrowly missing the still moving 
Zagrosek’s face.  Charles slashed his Sondeshike 
at Zagrosek’s suddenly unprotected back, but the 
man took one more step and with a flick of his 
wrist, brought his staff back to connect with the rat’s.
         Without a moment’s pause, Zagrosek 
jumped several feet to the side and turned back 
to face them both.  He spun the Sondeshike so 
fast that his hands became a blur and the staff 
became a silvery disc with a golden flare at its 
end.  He stepped back toward the far wall, which 
didn’t bother Charles any as there were no doors in that wall.
         “You can’t keep me from him forever, you 
know,” Zagrosek said with a smirk. “I will kill him sooner or later.”
         “No,” Jerome said with a snarl. “You 
will have to kill one of us first.  And then it’s 
over.”  He straightened and walked straight 
toward the spinning disc.  Charles followed him 
in, staying to one side to keep Zagrosek pinned 
between them and the wall.  He noted that the 
lanterns on the wall had banished the shadows to 
only a few corners none of which were near them.
         “You have no power here,” Zagrosek 
sneered. “There is nothing you can do to make me do other than what I want!”
         Jerome snorted, and faster than 
lightning, pummelled Zagrosek’s chest.  Each 
strike passed through the spinning disc 
completely missing the Sondeshike.  Zagrosek fell 
backwards and spat blood into the disc.  It 
sprayed into Jerome’s face.  With a gasp, Jerome 
took a few steps back to clear his eyes out, 
while Charles advanced with his Sondeshike.
         Charles spun his staff fast enough to 
make a disc, and holding it over his head, jammed 
it between Zagrosek’s own.  The impact of their 
staves knocked them backwards.  The rat felt a 
lancing pain shoot up his wrist, arm, and through 
his shoulder.  Zagrosek spat again, and pulled 
his left arm close to his chest and worked the 
tension free.  Blood dribbled from his lips and 
his chest heaved.  The rat moved in again and 
sliding beneath Zagrosek’s swing, smacked the end 
of his Sondeshike into the side of the man’s ribs.
         Zagrosek grunted as a rib cracked, but 
smacked his elbow between the rat’s 
eyes.  Charles ducked his head to one side but 
couldn’t dodge his one-time friend’s knee as it 
connected with his gut.  The rat tumbled to one 
side, flaying his free arm above him.  He managed 
to grab the haft of Zagrosek’s staff, and pulled himself upright.
         Zagrosek swore as Jerome bore down on 
him.  He let go of his Sondeshike and ran along 
the length of the wall.  Jerome stayed at his 
heels, but as soon as Krenek reached one of the 
pools of shadow, he disappeared.  Jerome stopped, 
scanned, and then turned. “Charles!”
         Charles turned just in time to see 
Zagrosek behind him.  The black-clad man drove 
his fist beneath the rat’s snout.  Still holding 
both Sondeshikes, Charles tumbled head over heels 
through the air to crash onto one of the old 
tables.  The wood splintered and sank beneath him.
         While Jerome rushed to his aid and 
Zagrosek drew back his leg to kick him, Charles 
pushed himself up with both Sondeshikes, grabbed 
the edge of the table with his hind paws and 
thrust forward.  The edge of the table shot out 
beneath the rat to meet the kick, striking 
Zagrosek just above his ankle.    He shouted in 
surprise and tried to hop backwards.  Charles 
spun the table to one side taking Zagrosek with 
it.  The Sondeckis lost his balance and caught 
himself with his hands while his foot tried to 
kick the tabletop free.  Charles jumped onto his 
hind paws and jabbed with both staves.
         Zagrosek dropped beneath them and lifted 
his snagged foot.  The tabletop came with it, and 
Charles had to scamper to one side to avoid being 
clobbered in the head.  Jerome tried to reach for 
him but Zagrosek swung his leg around the other 
way.  The tabletop struck the big man in the 
side.  Jerome grunted as it cracked in two, but 
it did make him miss a step.  In the fraction of 
a second it took for both Charles and Jerome to 
right themselves, Zagrosek was on his feet again, 
hands at the ready to face them.
         Spinning both Sondeshikes, one in each 
paw, Charles advanced on him.  Zagrosek took 
several careful steps back, eyes flicking from 
the rat to Jerome, before grinning and smacking 
his palms together.  The concussion was so loud 
that the walls trembled, flakes of stone sifted, 
and the rat nearly smacked himself in the head 
with both Sondeshikes in his hurry to cover his ears.
         Jerome jumped between them, grabbing for 
Zagrosek’s hands.  But Zagrosek spread his arms 
and kicked.  Jerome sidestepped the kick and 
shoved his palm into Zagrosek’s face.  With a 
twist, Zagrosek slid his back across Jerome’s and 
pushed off.  While Jerome struggled to get his 
feet back under him, Zagrosek reached out and 
yanked on the Sondeshikes.  Charles, his ears 
still smarting from the concussion, swept both 
arms backwards.  The Sondeshikes slipped free of 
Zagrosek’s grip, but so too did they fly from the rat.
         As the Sondeshikes clattered in the 
distance, Charles grappled his old friend about 
the waist.  Zagrosek tried to drive his elbow 
into the rat’s head, but Charles ducked from side 
to side.  From behind, Jerome wrapped and arm 
around Zagrosek’s neck and yanked 
backwards.  With a strangled gasp, Zagrosek 
thrust his head back repeatedly but met only air.
         “Give it up, Krenek!” Charles snapped as 
he dug his claws in at his old friend’s 
sides.  Curious, the rib he thought he’d broke 
felt whole again.  He wrapped his tail about 
Zagrosek’s leg for good measure and held tight, 
twisting his legs to force the man to the ground.
         Just when Charles felt sure they had a 
hold of him, Zagrosek twisted around in the 
middle further than any man should be able to 
twist and then sprang back like a coiled 
snake.  Jerome lost his grip and fell to one 
side, tripping over the scattered shards of the 
table to crash into what remained of a lounge.
         Charles barely held on as Zagrosek 
managed to get his feet underneath him again.  He 
pounded both hands on the rat’s shoulders and 
Charles slipped down a foot.  The rat reached 
behind Zagrosek’s legs with one paw and jabbed 
his claws repeatedly behind the man’s 
knees.  Zagrosek shuddered and kicked, and 
Charles felt his ribs groan with each blow.
         “You will let go!” Zagrosek snarled and 
kicked again. His eyes snapped up as Jerome 
hurled the lounge at his head.  Zagrosek punched 
the wood with both fists and almost managed to 
stop it.  Together, Charles and Zagrosek went 
down to the ground, the ancient stone crushing 
beneath their weight.  With another punch the 
black-clad Sondecki upended the lounge and then managed to free one foot.
         With a sadistic grin, he kicked at the 
rat’s head.  Charles rolled to one side, his 
claws still digging into the flesh behind 
Zagrosek’s knee, and trembled as he felt the vine 
across his chest shudder and climb off him.  Like 
an eel it slithered over Zagrosek’s chest and 
coiled around his neck.  Zagrosek’s eyes bulged 
in horrified surprise and he scrambled backwards 
on his rump, both hands clawing at the vine which 
tightened and tightened about his neck.
         Charles gasped to catch his breath as he 
watched his vine draw tighter, first three loops, 
now four about Krenek’s neck.  His whole body 
ached from the fight, and he could feel a 
sickness in his Sondeck.  It truly did not like 
being used against a fellow Sondecki!  But the 
vine wasn’t part of him anymore.  It could kill Zagrosek.
         Zagrosek’s face began purpling as the 
vine squeezed his neck tighter and tighter.  The 
end drew in closer, making a fifth loop around 
his neck.  Zagrosek kicked with his feet, 
scooting backwards across the floor.  His fingers 
were locked in between the vine and his neck, but 
it didn’t seem to do him any good.
         Jerome saw it first. “Shadow!” Charles 
glanced at the dark patch just a few feet beyond 
Zagrosek’s head and his eyes widened in 
fear.  They ran as fast as they 
could.  Zagrosek’s gaze burned with hatred as he 
kicked and struggled, eyes reddening as his 
cheeks purpled.  And then, even as the vine 
continued to strangle him, Zagrosek’s pushed 
himself into the shadow.  His whole body glowed a 
sullen crimson like a fire coming to life, and smoke billowed from his neck.
         The vine uncoiled and slithered away, 
flopping back and forth, one side covered with 
blackened tissue. “No!” Charles cried, feeling 
his chest tighten in agony for the vine that had 
shared his substance, both stone and flesh, for 
so many months.  What few flowers remained were 
wilted or burnt to ash.  It flopped several times 
before laying still amidst the shattered remnants of the tabletop.
         Zagrosek back-flipped into the shadow 
and instantly vanished.  Charles and Jerome 
turned about and saw their enemy picking up his 
Sondeshike.  His face and neck showed no signs of 
his struggle. “I told you that you couldn’t keep 
me from him.”  And with an almost nonchalant air, 
turned around and ran toward the far doorway.
         Charles chittered under his breath, rage 
flaring in his chest, and felt himself swelling 
in size.  Where once two paws had touched the 
ground now four stood, long claws digging into 
the stone and chipping its upper surface.  His 
legs tensed, even as his upper torso bent low, 
and he leapt forward across the broken 
furniture.  With one quick motion he snatched his 
discarded Sondeshike and with his third bound 
struck Zagrosek squarely in the back.
         Zagrosek sprawled to the ground, dug a 
huge path of stone shards, and hopped back to his 
feet.  He held his Sondeshike in both hands and 
grinned at Matthias’s centaur shape.  Jerome was 
at the rat’s side cracking his knuckles a second 
later. “Well,” Zagrosek admitted. “I guess we have to do this the hard way.”
         All three lunged in for attack.

         James quickly found himself in a hallway 
wide enough for only two people to walk 
side-by-side that ended in a narrow forbidding 
doorway.  The arched opening seemed to hunch 
forward like a gargoyle watching travellers 
approach or a mountain lion readying to pounce 
its prey.  He took a deep breath, stilled the 
terror in his heart, and stepped through.
         Beyond he found a wooden staircase 
spiralling upward.  The wood didn’t smell rotten 
and held firmly when he set his hoof on the first 
step.  Cautiously, he started up the staircase, 
ever conscious that there was no handrail to 
guide him.  He swayed with each step as he fought 
to keep his balance.  The wood creaked beneath 
him the higher he went, but it never did 
more.  Twice around the stairs took him before 
reaching a landing.  The stairs continued upward into uncertain shadow.
         James glanced into the darkness and 
decided to get off at the landing.  Shadows 
abounded in corners and along the walls, but the 
wooden floor was wide enough that he felt he 
could take a moment to explore.  Cautiously he 
took the few steps around the corner and stared in both surprise and awe.
         Although much of the superstructure 
appeared rotten and ready to collapse, the wooden 
landing became a path through a maze of immense 
clockwork gears that towered overhead.  At their 
base suspended by a wooden lattice held secure by 
interlocking ropes was a set of nine massive 
brass carillons.  As still as bones in a 
graveyard, the clockwork gears climbed upward 
into a darkened tower.  James had never seen so 
many gears in such a complicated array.  Surely 
it did more than manage the face of a clock.  But 
they’d seen no clock from the exterior.  So what 
could it be for?  Were they merely to time the ringing of the bells?
         James didn’t see any torches nearby so 
knew he would have to return down the 
stairs.  What little light he saw filtered 
through the floor.  He bent down and pressed the 
side of his head against a small crack between 
two planks.  While his tail dragged back and 
forth over the ancient wood, he strained to see 
between the boards.  He could see a large swath 
of light on the stone floor far below but nothing else.
         He sat up, saw another larger hole and 
crossed to it.  Through this he saw the window 
and drapes he’d pulled aside.  So, there was some 
geometric consistency in the Chateau.  Were he at 
Metamor he would have not been able to depend on 
the room beneath him being the same one moment to the next.
         James grunted as he stood again.  He 
brushed his pants off though there was still no 
dust to sully them.  His curiosity for the 
immense gear machine had calmed his fears, but 
with the sudden groaning of wood across the 
platform, all of his anxiety returned like a blow 
to the chest.  His heart pounded so hard that he 
felt physical pain grip him.  His breathing 
quickened, and his ears lifted alert.  He scanned 
about, grateful for the wider range of vision the 
Curse had gifted him.  To his left the shadows 
shifted.  He stumbled backward until he saw that 
one of the carillons swayed gently form side to side.
         Far from dispelling his fears, that made 
him turn around and run back down the stairs with 
a scream barely held tight in his throat.

         Now that Charles had opted to attack in 
his six-limbed mode he was able to match Zagrosek 
in height.  His paws twirled the Sondeshike back 
and forth to create a sweeping motion from right 
to left and back again.  His old friend matched 
him as he danced in an ever tightening circle 
keeping both the rat and his ally at bay with 
carefully timed swings of his staff.  Jerome 
stayed behind him to keep him from escaping.
         All the while they traded blows, Charles 
pondered the problem of killing Krenek.  As 
painful as the thought of ending the life of this 
his oldest and dearest companion, a man who was 
more like a brother to him than any other alive 
could claim, it was necessary and so he would do 
it.  Prayer and mourning could come later.  But 
they were both Sondeckis.  So he had to find some 
way to indirectly kill Zagrosek.  The furnishings 
were too old to be effective though they were 
still useful.  But only at delaying him.  If 
their friends were going to find a way into the 
Chateau, they would have done it by now.  Deep in 
his weary heart the rat knew that they were on their own.
         Zagrosek had managed to escape the 
entrance chamber, but he had not followed James 
very far before he was cornered again by Charles 
and Jerome.  His once arrogant smirk had begun to 
disappear under a cloud of anger and 
frustration.  That only gladdened the rat’s heart 
because it meant their efforts were bearing some 
fruit.  But from the growing soreness in his body 
and the sullen agony he felt in his Sondeck with 
each new blow he struck, that fruit was paltry indeed.
         A sudden shift in the arc of Zagrosek’s 
Sondeshike snapped the rat’s focus back to the 
fight.  He twisted his massive bulk to one side 
and met the blow near his right foreleg.  At the 
same time he whipped his tail around and lashed 
at Zagrosek’s back.  Jerome ducked out of the way 
as the tail zipped over his head.  Zagrosek 
didn’t duck. Instead he swung his staff backward 
and knocked the tip of the rat’s tail 
away.  Charles gasped in pain as he felt the bone 
snap.  He swung his tail back and lifting up on 
his hind paws, clawed at Krenek’s back.
         One claw did manage to gouge Zagrosek’s 
black tunic, but only a trickle of blood rewarded 
him.  With a grunt Zagrosek jumped into the rat’s 
chest and drove his shoulder beneath Charles’s 
arms.  He squeaked in surprise and danced 
backward with all four legs.  His claws caught on 
the square carpet in the middle of the room as 
Zagrosek pressed his attack, jabbing with one end 
of the Sondeshike at his legs and middle and then 
up at his head.  Stumbling, the rat could only defend himself.
         Jerome jumped after, and threw 
lightning-fast punches, but Zagrosek seemed to 
know where he’d be before Jerome did.  With 
inhuman grace, Zagrosek danced out of reach of 
the larger man at the last possible moment.  The 
other end of his Sondeshike would then connect 
with Jerome’s sides or legs.  Cursing in agony, 
Jerome stumbled back and nearly tripped over the edge of the carpet.
         Charles ground his teeth together his 
flews drawn back in frustration revealing his 
large incisors.  Zagrosek had thrown a few 
punches at them but had not yet struck 
either.  Still, the punches and blows he had 
landed brought more than enough pain to the 
rat.  He could feel a sharp pain in his tail tip, 
at least two broken ribs, one in either torso, 
and more bruises than he dared to count.  He 
could feel a deep burning sensation from the vine 
but he knew that injury was not his own.  He was 
weakening, slowing down, and Zagrosek could 
tell.  The intense hatred he saw in those eyes 
were like nothing he’d ever seen from him 
before.  Truly, this was not his lifelong friend anymore.
         Charles continued to back up, being 
careful not to let his claws stick in the old 
carpet.  The design appeared to have once been 
the stylized shield, flower and robin that marked 
the house of Boreaux.  But the colours were faded 
and the carpet had snags along its edges and in 
the middle.  Apart from an old dresser whose 
drawers were missing and what might have once 
been a bed but now looked like a quartet of 
impaling spikes held up by crossbeams, the room was empty.
         Zagrosek swung his Sondeshike over his 
head and then brought it down at the rat’s 
right.  Charles swung his Sondeshike around to 
intercept, and them metal clanged with the 
blow.  Immediately, Zagrosek spun the other end 
around at the rat’s left, but Charles met it with 
a quick flick of his wrist.  Steel against steel 
pounded with such a fierce staccato that the 
rat’s ears rang with a maddening tone.
         And then Zagrosek noticed that Jerome 
hadn’t attacked him in the last two 
seconds.  Casting a quick glance back, both he 
and Charles watched Jerome grasp one corner of 
the carpet.  With an upward yank, the entire 
length of the carpet leapt into the air and fell 
on top of the black clad Sondecki.  Charles 
danced backward off the carpet’s edge as it 
fell.  With quick precision, he grasped the other 
free corner and threw it too over top of his old friend.
         Zagrosek beat at the inside of the 
carpet with his Sondeshike and quickly tore holes 
through it.  But not before Jerome and the rat 
leapt on him and pounded both his front and 
back.  And then the air snapped like the crack of 
a whip and the carpet fell in on itself.  Charles 
spun around a moment too late to dodge the 
shadowjumper’s kick.  It landed right between his 
lower and upper torso where the vine had once 
taken root.  The pain felt like a knife jabbed 
into his mind.  With a scream he crumpled to the ground arms spread outward.
         He vaguely heard Jerome leap over him 
and the two of them fought.  Charles trembled and 
pushed himself up with his arms. The pain all 
existed in his taur half.  He closed his eyes and 
visualized himself with only two legs again.  The 
pain forced him back to the ground and made him 
want to vomit up the little he’d had to break his 
fast that morning.  But he kept the image in his 
mind of a two-legged rat.  He could feel every 
inch of stone as it slid over his shifting 
flesh.  Every twist of bone scrapping beneath his 
skin as it drew upward into his chest felt like 
shards of glass dragged across his face.  He 
hummed the Song of the Sondeck to still the vile 
rage that burned inside, a rage that yearned for 
him to beat his Sondeshike into the ground until 
all around him was dust and ash.
         And then the pain was gone.  Charles 
rolled over on his back, blinked, and watched as 
Jerome and Zagrosek danced and struck at each 
other with a fluidity that he well knew.  Charles 
flexed his toes and they moved as he willed.  The 
end of his tail was bent wrong, but other than 
that changing back had healed his paralysing wounds.
         Glancing around the room, Charles took 
note of the dresser.  He slipped the Sondeshike 
under his armpit and with both paws tore the 
dresser apart one piece at a time.  Most of the 
pieces were fastened with wooden pegs to keep 
from disfiguring the façade.  But the base and 
the rear each were anchored by iron nails.  He 
grinned and tossed them to the ground so the 
nails were facing up.  He then turned and rushed 
to where the two Sondeckis grappled.
         Zagrosek turned at his approach and 
jabbed his Sondeshike at the rat’s face.  Charles 
ducked to one side, grabbed the Sondeshike with 
one paw, and twisted down with all his 
strength.  He poured his Sondeck into motion, 
flipping the man into the air.  Zagrosek cried in 
alarm as he flipped head over heels through the 
air.  Charles jumped backward and forced the 
black-clad man down onto the dismantled dresser 
bottom.  He landed with a solid thunk.
         Zagrosek blinked in surprise as he tried 
to get back up but found himself fixed in 
place.  One of the nails had pierced his left 
side just below the ribs, while a second impaled 
his right thigh.  Two others narrowly missed his 
head.  Charles grimaced at that, grabbed the 
dresser back and lifted it high over 
head.  Zagrosek lifted his free leg and kicked as 
the rat brought it down.  The wood slipped from 
Charles’s grasp, but Jerome jumped on it and forced the nail-side down.
         With a strangled shout, Zagrosek thrust 
both of his forearms up and met the wood right 
between a row of nails.  Jerome grunted and 
pushed down harder.  Charles did the same.  He 
felt sick to his stomach but he had to do 
this.  Zagrosek was pinned by the nails and he 
didn’t have enough shadow to escape through.  It 
was only a matter of time before they drove in the rest.
         “You have not... beaten me!” Zagrosek 
snarled through clenched teeth.  The board tipped 
to one side, and then Zagrosek’s fist punched 
through the wood and squeezed Jerome’s 
throat.  Jerome gasped and scrabbled at the wood 
trying to push off.  Charles rolled off the other 
side and when he hit the stone, swung his 
Sondeshike across the top of Zagrosek’s 
head.  The blow would kill them both and he knew it the moment he struck.
         But Zagrosek wasn’t ready to die 
yet.  He tipped the board down on Charles’s side 
and caught the staff with the nails.  He then 
kicked with his free leg and flipped the board 
onto Charles’s back.  Jerome landed at the rat’s 
side still gagging and clawing at his 
neck.  Zagrosek put his elbows in the wood 
beneath him and pushed upwards.  With a sickening 
pop, the nails slid free from his body.   Blood 
pooled beneath him as he rose to his feet. “That was a mistake.”
         Charles jumped to his paws and spun his 
Sondeshike. “I’ve made a few before.  Letting you 
go last winter was one of my worst.”
         Zagrosek laughed, then drove toward the 
rat with renewed ferocity.  Charles met each blow 
as quickly as he could.  Zagrosek spun his 
Sondeshike so fast that it seemed a disc of 
light.  That light blossomed into a brilliant 
scarlet.  Though there were no shadows in the 
middle of the room, darkness seemed to cling to 
his flesh.  Charles winced as the heat singed his 
fur.  The hand print over his right eye throbbed.
         Charles tried to dance around his old 
friend so Jerome could get behind him.  He 
needn’t have bothered as Zagrosek did not seem 
interested in escaping anymore.  As he spun his 
Sondeshike over his shoulders, he ripped the ends 
through the wall next to the doorway they’d come 
through.  The stone seared and shattered, 
crumbling with a rumble that nearly knocked the 
rat from his paws.  When Zagrosek was finished, 
the passage was nothing more than a pile of rubble.
         One of the stones battered Charles on 
the left shoulder. He winced and in that moment 
with his guard down, Zagrosek swept out his left 
hand and planted it firmly where once a Shrieker 
had done the same.  The rat screamed in agony as 
the nullity ripped through his mind.  He felt the 
Sondeshike yanked from his grip and a boot 
kicking him squarely in the chest.  He landed on 
his broken tail joint while the whole world swam in swirls of yellow and red.
         Unlike when he’d been touched by the 
Shrieker, his disorientation passed quickly 
enough.  Only a few seconds after the pain began, 
Charles was back on his paws, with Jerome at his 
side.  Zagrosek stood in the archway at the other 
end of the room with both Sondeshikes in his 
hands.  He had a sad smile on his face. “I told 
you.  You cannot stop me.” And then, even as the 
two ran to catch him, he spun both Sondeshikes 
against either side of the doorway.  The stone 
shattered and crumbled, the wall falling in on 
itself and sealing them behind a pile of cracked and tumbled masonry.
         “Damn it!” Jerome swore.  Charles could 
see the bruises along his neck purpling. “It’ll 
take too long to dig through this.”
         Charles stared at it then ran to one 
side.  He grabbed the blocks on top and tossed 
them behind him.  They clattered and rolled 
across the floor, further shattering the 
stonework. “All I need is a little hole and I can get through.  Hurry!”
         Jerome nodded and grabbed the stones out of the rat’s reach.

         When James returned to the room with the 
large window and suits of armour he knew he was 
in trouble.  His ears turned this way and that 
but he couldn’t hear the scrape and clang of 
steel.  What had happened?  Was it over?  He 
breathed quickly and with a shaking hand drew his 
sword.  Glancing about, he saw that the brightest 
place in the room was in front of the faux 
window.  He made his way there and stood with his 
back to the window.  The cloth over his hooves 
muffled his steps, but in the silence each 
hoof-fall sounded like the beat of a drum.
         James took several long breaths trying 
to calm himself.  He shifted his thick fingers 
around the hilt of his sword, testing his 
grip.  The sword fit snugly in his hand.  He well 
remembered Angus the badger’s training all those 
months ago in the Glen.  He gave the sword a 
couple swings to loosen his muscles.  For the 
first time since setting foot inside the Chateau he felt his confidence return.
         And then, lifting his eyes, his 
confidence fled.  Standing in the doorway 
opposite the window with two metal staves in 
either hand was the man dressed in black — Krenek 
Zagrosek.  The Sondecki walked stiffly toward him 
favouring one leg then stopped ten feet into the 
room.  He glanced from side to side and smiled. 
“With the light reflecting off the armour, I see 
no shadows at all in this room.  Very clever.  So 
long as we are here you have taken away one of my weapons.”
         James flecked his lips and his hide 
shook as if covered by a swarm of flies.  He 
tried to keep the sword steady in front of him, 
but it took both hands to keep it from trembling. “What did you do to Charles?”
         Zagrosek tapped one of his boots with a 
Sondeshike. “Oh, I trapped them both.  It won’t 
take them long to dig their way through.  But I 
won’t need long to kill you.”  He started walking 
forward again, eyes never leaving the donkey.
         Gasping in fright, James glanced to 
either side, but he knew there was no escape.  He 
lifted the sword higher and yelled, “Stop!” To 
his surprise, Zagrosek did so, very nearly in the 
centre of the room. “You... you... you’re 
forgetting one thing.  Sondeckis can’t kill Sondeckis.”
         “Oh neither of them are dead.  And that 
certainly won’t stop me from killing you.”
         “No,” James said, trying so hard to find 
his courage.  That words even passed his lips 
surprised him.  He could barely think 
straight.  He may be a competent swordsman, but 
he would never survive a fight against this 
man!  James took another breath and tried to take 
in the entire room while he spoke.  The drapes 
were too cumbersome to use.  The armour was on 
the other side of Zagrosek which made it as 
useful as something on the other side of the 
world.  And the rope he’d cut would do him no 
good either because he couldn’t escape out the window.  What else was there?
         His eyes returned to Zagrosek who took 
another step forward.  James gasped and shouted, 
“No!  What you’re forgetting is this.  I can kill you too.”
         Zagrosek blinked, tipped back his head 
and laughed. “You?  Who are you to kill me?” He 
smiled maliciously and then nodded his head. “You 
are armed with but a sword, something you have 
used no more than a year.  I am a Sondecki.  I 
have trained for combat all of my life.  Even if 
I let you cut both my arms off I would still kill 
you.  But, as you have been so brave, I would 
feel undignified cutting you down with such an 
unfair advantage.” He lifted both Sondeshike 
before him, then tossed them to either 
side.  They clattered across the stone work 
before settling at opposite ends of the hall. 
“There.  I am unarmed.  I will give you ten 
seconds to attack me.  Ten seconds and then I kill you where you stand.”
         James gulped. “Why ten seconds?”
         “Because in ten seconds Charles will 
break free.  He’ll be here just in time to see me 
kill you.  Now you have five.”
         James blinked at the man.  Zagrosek 
smiled with serene confidence and even let his 
hands fall behind his back.  James looked him up 
and down, and then looked ever so briefly at the 
ceiling.  It was all the hope he had left.  He 
ground his teeth together, lifted high his sword, 
and swung it back over his shoulder and through 
the taut rope fixed to the wall.  With a 
resounding crash the rope disappeared into the 
ceiling which shattered in a million splinters as 
the massive carillons fell through the 
centre.  James spun back on his hooves and 
watched them drive down like a fist from heaven.
         Zagrosek snapped his head up and darted 
forward, the smile gone from his lips.  He ran 
with a ferocity that James had never seen, blood 
gushing from his leg as all around him wooden 
planks and beams littered the floor.  The nine 
brass bells rang with a sonorous groan on their 
way down.  James pulled his arms in front of his 
face as shards of wood clipped and cut his 
hide.  Time seemed to slow as the moment drew 
into a thousand little experiences and pinpricks 
of pain.  The sun’s rays glinted off each bell 
with a gleam that banished the darkness of the clockwork tower above.
         Zagrosek gave one last push to his legs, 
jumping and stretching out his arms to catch 
himself.  And then time snapped back into 
place.  The bells crashed into the ground and the 
throbbing turned into clangour and chaos.  The 
shock knocked James form his hooves.  Timbers 
kept falling, and he cowered as they clattered to the ground around him.
         A few seconds more and the ringing 
faded.  James lifted his head and crawled over a 
broken support beam to see the bells clustered 
together.  They’d sunk several inches into the 
stonework floor.  Next to one of them was 
Zagrosek.  He’d rolled over and was staring at 
his belly.  James felt the contents of his 
stomach heave up his throat when he realized that 
Zagrosek’s body stopped there.  The falling bells had cleaved him in twain.
         Zagrosek turned his head, his chest 
heaving as he pressed his belly against the side 
of the bell to keep his intestines from spilling 
out.  The look of hatred was gone.  A faint smile 
graced the edges of his lips. “Well done.” The 
words were slow, and full of an admiration that 
the donkey had never heard even from Angus or Charles.
         “James!” Charles shouted as he turned 
the doorway and rushed inside.  He stopped short when he saw the carillons.
         “I’m over here,” James yelled.
         Charles ran around and grabbed him by the arm. “Are you well?”
         “A little cut, but I’ll be fine.” James nodded toward Zagrosek.
         The rat turned and swallowed. “Krenek!” 
He let go of James and ran to his friend’s 
side.  He scooped one arm behind Zagrosek’s head 
and with the other pinned his right arm. “I’m so 
sorry.  I’m so sorry!” The rat began sobbing, whiskers low and body trembling.
         “Charles, it is I who should be sorry.” 
Zagrosek gagged as blood began spilling from his 
mouth. “Take my Sondeshike.  And please... pray for me.”
         “I will,” Charles assured him. “Every day of my life.”
         “And Agathe,” Zagrosek said.  With his 
free arm he grabbed the rat’s collar and shook 
it. “Promise me!  Pray for Agathe.  And Yonson.  They weren’t willing either.”
         Charles blinked the tears from his eyes 
and slowly nodded. “I’ll pray for all of you.” 
The rat didn’t even try to move when Zagrosek’s 
entrails began sliding out of his belly and 
across the floor.  He put one paw on his friend’s 
chest and began to sing.  Zagrosek smiled at the 
sound, though the words were foreign to James’s 
ears.  There was a sense of rightness in the 
melody as well as an undercurrent of melancholy.
         Zagrosek opened his mouth to say 
something else, but no words came to him.  Only 
the blood that pooled beneath him.  As the rat 
brought the song to a close, Zagrosek fixed him 
one final stare.  Charles made the sign of the 
yew over his friend’s chest, and then they locked 
hands together. “I will look for you in Heaven, 
Krenek.  Eli take you and bring you peace.”
         “And... you...” Zagrosek breathed 
faintly before his eyes stared past the rat.  His 
arms fell limp and he sagged in Charles’s 
embrace.  The rat sobbed even louder as he knelt in his friend’s victuals.
         James realized that he’d been holding 
his breath.  He lowered his sword to the ground 
and glanced around the room.  He knew that he 
didn’t need to be afraid anymore, but he couldn’t 
shake an overwhelming sense of dread.  Still, he 
forced himself to sheath his sword and take 
several deep breaths.  Zagrosek was dead.  The 
door to the Chateau would be open now.  Their friends would be with them soon.
         James walked over to rouse Charles from 
his vigil when the rat jumped backward.  Through 
the cracks in the stonework a black mist 
seeped.  It curved and swirled around Zagrosek’s 
upper torso.  Charles waved at it but winced and 
stumbled away. “What is this!  Get away from him!”
         But the mist ignored the rat.  It 
shrouded Zagrosek and then parted, revealing 
nothing beneath.  Even the blood and entrails 
were gone.  It paid Charles and James no mind as 
it crept back through the cracks in the stone.  A 
moment later and there was no sign of either 
Zagrosek or the mist but for the blood on the rat’s paws and breeches.
         Charles brushed the tears from his eyes 
and lowered his head in prayer.  James did the 
same but couldn’t think of the words to say so he 
just stood silently until the rat made the sign 
of the yew over his chest.  Glancing up at the 
donkey, the rat winced at some pain and said, 
“Grab one Sondeshike and follow me.  I don’t 
think those gears up there are going to stay there for long.”
         “Right.” The two of them each grabbed 
one Sondeshike and then ran back the way they’d 
come.  Just as they turned the corner out of the 
room they heard the entire structure groan and 
collapse.  They kept running as bits of metal 
shot out the door and the bells clanged one final 
time.  A billowing cloud of dust chased them through the next room.
         Two more rooms and they found a pile of 
rubble mostly cleared from a collapsed 
doorway.  Jerome was there with the others trying 
to remove the rest of the stones. “James!” Kayla 
cried in delight when she saw him. “You’re 
okay!  Jerome told us what Zagrosek said.”
         Charles held one Sondeshike close to his 
chest and lowered his face. “Zagrosek is 
dead.  This was his Sondeshike.  I shall carry it 
in his honour as he carried it in Soud’s.”
         “Soud?” Lindsey asked.
         “A Sondecki,” Jerome replied. “Who died 
protecting us when we were younger.” He heaved 
another stone out of the way and stood out of the 
way.  Charles and James made their way through 
where the rat collapsed against the stone.
         “You’re hurt!” Jessica said.  She 
brushed the rat’s chest with one wing. “But not 
bad.  Abafouq and I can heal this quickly.”
         “My vine!” Charles gasped. “Where is my vine?”
         Qan-af-årael held it out in his hands 
like a father cradling an infant. “It will need 
fresh soil and water, but it will live.  When we 
are free of this place let it nestle in stony 
flesh while you sleep.  That will be enough.”
         The rat pulled the vine close and rubbed 
its blackened sinew against his face.  The vine 
curled weakly over his shoulders.
         “Now what?” Lindsey asked. “If Zagrosek 
is dead, that means the Marquis has no more allies.”
         “Now,” Qan-af-årael said with almost a 
hint of regret, “we find a way down.  Now we must 
find the cleft where Yajakali cast his spell eleven thousand years ago.”
         “Mind if I sit down first?” James 
said.  His rump landed hard on the dislodged 
stones and he sunk his face into his hands.  To 
their surprised eyes, he began to weep and 
shake.  His whole body throbbed with that hideous 
peal of bells.  It sang to him like a promise, a 
promise now full only of death.  Finally, beneath 
his breath, the donkey found the words of prayer.

----------


May He bless you and keep you in His grace and love,

Charles Matthias