Death's Sword Book 1: Finding and Seeking

Chapter 1: Earlier

Bandu dreamt of the demon again. As usual, it hovered at the foot of his bed, all dark flames and shadows. It was bigger now, almost tall enough to touch the ceiling. It had been smaller, much smaller, when he had first dreamt of it, nearly three moons ago; silent, too. The whispering had started last moon, too quiet to be understood. Now, though, its' voice was at a conversational level, always reciting the same chant over and over again. "Bandu, Bandu, wake up, it's time for you to play. Wake up, wake up, Bandu, it's time for us to play." What made it particularly frightening was that it used the voice of his long-dead mother. "Bandu, Bandu,..." Usually, he woke screaming, drenched in sweat, to find, of course, that there was nothing there. In his dream, he woke and fought to stay still, silent, to convince the horrid thing that he was still asleep. "Wake up, wake up Bandu, ..." the sing-song recital continued. 

Perhaps if he cracked one eye open and saw that it wasn't really there, it would all be over. He might then be able to snatch some much-needed rest, real sleep. Gathering all his will, he gritted his teeth. "..time for us to play. Bandu, Bandu,..." He cautiously opened one eye to the narrowest of slits. "Ah, finally." sighed his mother's voice out of the flames. Bandu sat bolt upright, staring at the roiling fire and smoke that loomed over the foot of his sleeping-mat. He opened his mouth to scream but the flames hit him first, burning, searing, then were gone. Bandu shivered, shuddered, gasped for breath. Then, slowly, the convulsions ceased. He stretched out his arms and watched as his fingers flexed, a look of joyful fascination on his face. "So this is what it feels like to have skin! It's been so very long that I'd forgotten," he giggled. Inside his head, a faint voice shrieked in panic and terror. "Hush, now, hush," said his mouth, "It's play-time."

The moon was hidden behind a grey haze as the wind gusted across the landscape, buffeting against trees and crashing down shingles from roofs as it went. Doors were shut against the cold wind and children were tucked up a little tighter into their beds. It was a night for magicks. In the hills that cropped up in the far east like broken teeth, an old woman stepped wearily over the curiously-shaped green rock and moved to the back of the musty cavern. Once there, she blew across face of the rock. Squinting, she traced out shapes that covered the wall behind a layer of grime. She tutted. She reached out and pressed one of the many carvings that adorned the walls. A slab of stone swung noiselessly out of the rock next to her feet, revealing a staircase spiraling downwards. A faint scuttling came to her ears, as some chitinous vermin fled from the glow of the fox-light that danced around her head. Cold seemed to ooze out of the doorway, freezing the air around her. Clouds of vapour issued from her half-open mouth. 

Head turning slowly on scrawny neck, the old woman studied the opening carefully, in no rush. Tonight, she had time. On her next visit, perhaps not. Being in place at the right time then would be essential to all her careful planning. She nodded then, as though satisfied. Muttering a few words under her breath and making a couple of quick gestures with her bony hands, she started the long climb down into the darkness and the secret gateway that was concealed there. Time to check if things were as she expected them to be and to see if an old adversary still blocked her way.

"For such an ancient one, you're quite sprightly. Wouldn't someone younger have been more suitable, though?" rumbled the beast, eyeing the woman as she reached the entrance to its chamber. She leant on her staff, breathing deeply, a little short of breath, for her route had eventually ended in a long staircase rising to this chamber. The air was warmer here and with a faint scent of the ocean; she was far, far to the south of where her journey had started just a short while ago.

She studied the beast in her turn. It was worthy of study. Nearly three metres tall, it was broad enough to look squat. A wide, flat head sat atop an almost non-existent neck, and its eyes bulged out from its face, like bubbles on a scummy pond they looked about ready to pop at any moment. Each thick, stubby arm ended in a massive paw with three heavy claws. Its skin was green, scaly and shimmered in the dull orange light that accompanied the woman. "Look good, don't I?" grinned the creature, revealing an impressive array of teeth. "Care to try a quick issho no buto with me? Twice around the ballroom?" It danced a few steps, surprisingly light on its feet for something so bulky. "Not tonight, twinkle-toes," said the visitor, trying to peer around the massive torso.