The Shadowy Path - 24. Chapter 24

Josel

The cellar door clicked open. Josel's eyes, used to darkness, were blinded by the light.

"What the fuck!" Lurk shouted, his voice squeaking with emotion.

"The little rat has escaped! Toma!" Josel heard Fake Marta screeching in the distance.

Lurk was on them quickly. The hunchback swung his cane wildly as Josel did his best to defend himself and dodge the blows. The cane struck painfully at least in the shoulder, side and back. Zdain was even clumsier at dodging and soon fell to the stony floor, whimpering miserably.

For a moment, Josel imagined that Lurk would beat them to death, but then, Fake Marta's scream rang out in the cellar. "Enough!" she ordered.

Lurk abruptly stopped pounding. The man's disgusted face showed anger and disappointment in the lantern light.

"You will suffer," Lurk whispered, gritting his rotten teeth. His foul-smelling breath made Josel sick.

The woman hurried her assistant away and looked at her prisoners. She pointed to Zdain, still lying curled up on the floor, and ordered Josel: "Pick up your friend."

Josel had no choice but to pull Zdain up, even though the boy seemed to be almost at his last gasp. Wobbly Zdain remained standing next to Josel. The light allowed Josel to see his comrade's face after a long time. Lurk's stick had made a wound in Zdain's temple, which was now oozing blood. His eyes were open, but his gaze was glazed and feverish.

The woman who called herself Marta said: "If we had come a little later, you would be rejoicing under the starry sky of Ipalos. But you were too slow and missed your last chance," she sneered, a malicious look on her face. "I'd love to hear how you managed to get this far?"

"If they don't remember, I can refresh their memory," Lurk squeaked, brandishing the now-familiar torture device in his hand.

"The goblin opened the locks," Josel said quickly.

Fake Marta looked at Josel mockingly. "Blah, that gnat has nothing to do with goblins. You're as stupid as the Lurk, who thought he was bringing me a precious gift from the market, but instead brought me a filthy dwarf." With that, the woman looked scornfully at Lurk, who crouched before his mistress with a servile expression on his ugly face.

Soon Fake Marta spoke again: "Let the dwarf try, but it will be in vain. Toma will catch the little rat. And then..." She sliced through the air with her index finger and smacked her lips.

Josel could only hope that Plinkinenkak could run faster than her stubby legs suggested. He and Zdain, however, had no hope.

Lurk shined them with his lantern. "The beautiful brown-haired boy looks weak," he said, twisting his mouth into a nasty, teeth baring grimace. "Will Your Mighty Greatness allow me to enjoy him while you tell them your business? If he struggles, I'll find a way."

A cold sweat ran down Josel's back as Lurk pulled a pair of scissors from the stash in his dirty robe and used them to cut the air.

Lurk took a step towards the boys. Scissors in hand and wheezing breath, he continued his sickening rant. "The blond cutie will be drooling next to me as I take his friend's cherry." A snort, vaguely reminiscent of laughter, escaped the man's throat.

Zdain retched loudly and almost fell on Josel as they stumbled backwards. Too soon, their backs were against the wall.

Lurk approached, waving his scissors and pushing his ugly face forward. Josel now smelled the stench of the man's breath. The scissors came closer. Josel decided to fight back, he was not going to surrender to these assholes.

Then the woman's voice cut through the air. "Lurk, away! You don't deserve any prize. You tried to trick me with that so-called goblin."

Lurk's face fell. He glared at the boys and retreated with a hiss.

Fake Marta turned her attention back to the prisoners. "You must remember Marta," she said, turning her lantern so that the corpse hanging in the corner was obscured by the light. "You see the shapeless body, of course. You can't tell from that what Marta looked like when she was alive. But I can show you. Turn this way, you scoundrels."

The woman lifted the lantern to her face. She began to smile. "Look at me carefully. Marta looked exactly like me. Can you believe it?" A disgusted chuckle escaped Fake Marta's lips.

In his tired head, Josel could not understand what she meant.

"You don't get it, you worthless scum. Hehe, only few people do until it's too late. That moment of horrified surprise is probably what I enjoyed the most. So watch!" the woman said, bending down to put the lantern on the floor.

Nothing happened for a moment. Then the woman started to look strange. Her cheeks narrowed and bulged, as if she had sucked in air and blown it out. Woman's whole face melted away. One by one, her features were erased.

Josel gulped, not in astonishment but in sheer horror. Yet he could not take his eyes off the woman who was no longer human.

Marta's yellow dress ripped off her. Underneath it was not the woman's body, but a yellowish, slime-covered torso. Legs and arms lengthened before Josel's eyes from human limbs into something else entirely. Unnaturally long fingers, dripping with yellow slime, grasped the air. The creature's waxy face also began to take shape. Two nostrils opened where the nose had been, and the mouth revealed a row of dagger-like teeth. Dark pits spread out above the nostrils, revealing a pair of bulging yellow eyes. The monster's posture bent into a crouch, and it let out a frog-like croak.

Josel shouted loudly. He had encountered such a creature before, in the pages of the Troubadour Kharl books. It was a snagost, one of the most disgusting beasts in horror stories.

Horror stories, not real life. Witchcraft - this is bloody witchcraft! Josel was not able to think clearly. A faint groan escaped Zdain's mouth.

Now the snagost's features began to melt. The slime peeled away from the snout, the razor teeth disappeared, the nostrils became a nose, the forehead straightened and hair appeared on the head. The snagost's body remained the same, but its face was now manlike. Josel realised he was staring into Toma's eyes.

"You hardly knew this was coming," Toma's face said in his honky voice.

Josel's teeth were chattering. "W-w-what are you?" he stammered at the creature that had the body of a monster, but a human head.

"I suppose I could tell you; couldn't I Lurk...Lurk, don't look so scared," Toma's voice croaked as the snagost's hand, dripping with slime, reached for the man who stood a safe distance away.

"Your Greatness!" Lurk gasped. "By being afraid, I show my respect for you."

"I like that," Toma's mouth replied. "Let's get back to me - us, to be precise. I am everyone, but still no one. I can be Marta Donthav, a slimy snagost or Toma. Sometimes I do better, sometimes worse. What do you think, Josel, was I a believable Marta?"

Josel hesitated, not daring to say anything.

"Answer me!"

"Yes," Josel finally managed to croak.

"I thought so, my performance went down well with you. Your friend seemed to be more suspicious. At least from what I overheard of the conversation in your room. Marta's husband wisely installed sound-transmitting pipes in his guest room. It's a pity I never met him. I would have loved to surprise the lady of the house by pretending to be her late husband," the Toma-faced creature said with a smile. "But now we are getting off topic. Who am I? Many will hear the answer to that question before they die. As if in exchange for the fact that the death I offer is never easy, or at least never painless. Fair enough, right?"

It gave Josel the shudders.

Toma's face continued to tell the story, now in a deep voice and in a narrative tone: "Ni-gaalsdaa, shapeless, the Southerners say of us. Faceless is the word in your language. We have existed since the beginning of time, long before man. We have seen human empires fall and rise. Yet we are not mentioned in the old stories. If only because we prefer to operate in the shadows. I have personally destroyed many sources that could have threatened my species. It is hard work. Often it is not enough to murder a historian or shred his manuscript, but to burn libraries and slaughter entire families that have spread the story of the Faceless. On the other hand, there are not many of us left. Some of us made a mistake and sought power. They fell with their allies. It is foolish, for we can be killed, even if we are not otherwise mere mortals. Lurk knows this, but he dares not try. He is a coward, and he knows that killing me would be useless. Without me, Lurk would be nothing more than a very ugly and insignificant servant of the Darkness. Isn't that so, Lurk?"

The man nodded vigorously in agreement, but took a step back from the Faceless.

The Toma-faced creature watched Lurk's truckling with a smile. "I have chosen a different path from my fellow species. I don't seek fame or glory, but I do get involved in politics from time to time. Right now, I'm keen to stick my nose into the Blue Moon's affairs. Getting Marta out of the way was therefore a fun little task. At the same time, I was able to pursue my main hobby. Do you know what that is? Aaahh, of course, hurting, murdering, butchering...and eating people."

"Hahaha," Faceless laughed at its own words. "Don't look so pale. Once you've tasted human blood, you never want to give up the pleasure. I have thousands of years of experience with it. Too bad I don't have time to teach you how to enjoy murder. Or would I spare one of you? Perhaps I'll let you choose, Josel, which of you will die. Your little friend or you? Many mothers have begged me to kill herself to save her child. I will never grant such wishes."

The creature took a step closer with its snagost legs. Toma's jaws opened into a huge red abyss, revealing a row of milk-white fangs. They bulged out of the maw, upper and lower teeth completely tangled and intertwined.

Josel's throat felt tight. It was a terrible nightmare with no way out. Zdain grabbed Josel's shoulder and grunted something very indistinct.

Teeth gnashed against each other as the beast gasped for air in front of Josel and Zdain's faces. Saliva oozed from between the needle-sharp teeth and a deep growl came from somewhere in the recesses of the monster's throat.

The boys backed up against a stone wall. "No, no, no!" Josel heard his own voice scream. He clung to Zdain, hoping for a miracle to save him.

However, Faceless was not yet willing to finish off its prisoners. Suddenly, it backed away and began another transformation. The snagost's limbs landed on the ground and became the paws of an animal.

In an instant, the creature dropped to all fours. Brown hair began to grow on its skin, and a whip-like tail protruded from its tip.

Brown fur covered the animal's neck and head, from which two erect dog ears emerged. Nevertheless, the creature's face did not stretch into a snout, but Josel witnessed how Toma's fanged face was replaced by another human face, like an unnatural mask on a dog. It was a slender female face, almost pale white, with a malevolent expression.

The pretty rosy red mouth twisted into a wicked smile when Faceless spoke again: "Marta was hanging on the wall by her chains and was still alive until I tore open her belly and gutted her. She died because she had become useless to me. She knew relatively little about the Blue Moon and began to repeat herself badly during interrogations. For example, information about the location of the Blue Moon headquarters had not been confided to Marta. At least I got some of the confidants killed, such as baker Mommes. Similar deaths have recently occurred in other towns in South Andiol."

Faceless' laughter echoed metallically. "Of course, the Blue Moon was not idle when it saw its members dying like flies. Two scouts were sent here in the three weeks I have been appearing as Marta. Both of them tasted delicious! The Blue Moon has suffered its worst setback in decades. I have untied a knot that will probably be hard to fix. Much of the credit goes to Toma, who betrayed his mistress to the Darkness. It was funny to watch Marta's shock when she realised her beloved servant was a fallen, wandering deep in the Darkness."

"As for you two, I'm running out of patience. I want to hear all about your connections to the Blue Moon and the whereabouts of your parents. Let young Sandkan begin, or I'll have to beat Zdain to death in front of you."

The will to fight had completely vanished from Josel. He decided to speak. "My father was going to help the Monteilons to Five Hills and meet us here at Marta's. I don't know the location of the Blue Moon headquarters, and neither does Zdain."

Faceless smiled. "Five Hills. Yes, of course. Still, I'm sure Zdain knows more. And now that information is being beaten out of him. Lurk!"

The vile man was ready to obey. He stepped towards the boys, weapon raised. Josel quickly pulled Zdain behind his back, putting himself between his cellmate and Lurk.

"Don't touch him. You'll see how sick he is," Josel pleaded, trying to conjure defiance in his tired voice.

"How amusing it is when a human defends another. Yet so pointless," Faceless said, smiling mockingly.

That was all Faceless had time to say before the door at the top of the stairs slammed open and Toma stumbled in. "Your Greatness, intruders! They're attacking the house," Toma panted, trying to catch his breath.

A frustrated cry escaped Faceless' throat. "Lead the way! Lurk, keep watch!" it shouted and - still in the form of a dog - sprinted up the stairs and out of the cellar ahead of Toma.

What intruders? Josel stared at Lurk as he feverishly tried to think of the various possibilities, the last ones they had left.

"I know what you're thinking, blond sweetheart. That you could beat old Lurk. There you are grossly mistaken," the man pointed out in a squeaky voice. "The Greatness did not forbid me to touch you. Now I'll do what I like. You dirty boy will be the first. You may sing all your little secrets while Uncle Lurk takes you hard. Come here!"

Lurk raised his weapon. Josel tried to dodge, but tripped and fell to the floor. Lurk struck with his weapon, but instead of Josel, he accidentally hit the standing Zdain in the side. A blue light flashed, Monteilon let out a heart-rending cry.

It confused Lurk for a moment. Josel reached for the lantern Marta had left on the floor. Then he leapt up and swung the lantern at Lurk. The shards of glass cut the man's face and the spilled lamp oil burst into flames. Lurk howled and began to wipe his burning head with his sleeve.

Josel did not stay to watch the man's agonising struggle against the fire. He took hold of Zdain, who was lying unconscious on the floor.

Lurk screamed. He tried to fight the flames, but could do nothing to stop the boys from escaping. With what strength he had left, Josel dragged Zdain up the basement steps. Not knowing what to expect, he pushed open the kitchen door.

The room was empty. The stale air in the kitchen smelled heavenly after the stinking cellar and Josel drew it into his lungs with gusto. He laid the unconscious Zdain on the floor and quickly bolted the cellar door behind them.

There would be no more danger from Lurk, but Faceless and its other henchmen were prowling somewhere in the house. We should leave right away, but first...

Josel looked around, squinting his eyes. There was a jug on the table! Without further ado, he grasped the jug and tilted it to his lips. Wine! Josel took a greedy sip, then another. Had anything ever tasted better?

He would have emptied the whole jug had he not remembered Zdain. It would have been wiser to flee immediately, but Monteilon had to drink too. After all they had been through, Josel owed it to Zdain. Josel bent down beside his companion and saw how weak he looked. The boy's face was grey and bloodstained, his lips were chapped and he was breathing very faintly.

Surely he was not going to die? Not after all this! Josel hastily tipped the wine jug and tried to pour the liquid as gently as possible into Zdain's mouth. Most of the wine, however, trickled down the sides of his mouth and onto the floor and chest.

Oh, if only Zdain had opened his eyes just a little. Or screamed, been angry, done something!

It did not happen, so Josel did not dare force the boy to wake up. He stood up and listened. It was very quiet. Which way should they go? There were two doors leading out of the kitchen, but no windows. One door would lead into the hall, the other somewhere at the back of the house. Was there a second way out of the house? It was not worth counting on it. The only sensible choice was to take an extreme risk and try the main door.

Josel bent down to lift Zdain up. Monteilon was in urgent need of care, and Josel had no idea how he would manage to carry him outside the house. Just lifting him felt almost impossible, even though the slim boy could not have been very heavy.

After gaining some grip on Zdain, Josel began to stumble towards the door. There was no sound from the other side, so he ventured to open the door. The dining area behind the kitchen was deserted and dim. The dark view from the windows told him that it was night outside.

Could he open or break the windows? Breathing heavily, Josel dragged Zdain further into the room. There was no knob, no pull or other lever to open the windows. Time would soon be running out, Josel felt it at the back of his mind.

Light shone from under the door in the hallway. Would Faceless, Toma or the other fallen ones be standing guard? Josel was too tired to reconsider. With Zdain in his arms, he took a few faltering steps towards the door.

At the same time, a few quick footsteps came from behind it. Josel's heart leapt into his throat. He looked around: there was nowhere to hide. There was no escape, all was lost.

The door swung open with force. Neither Faceless, nor Toma, nor either of the big men rushed in. A man Josel knew from before darted into the room, a bloody sword in his hand and a murderous look on his face. It was Marl.

Marl stopped in his tracks when he saw who was in the room. "I found the boys," he called over his shoulder, lowering his sword. Josel was completely stunned, unable to say or do anything. Would Marl kill them on the spot? Was he one of Faceless' many henchmen? Josel was no match for the big man, he knew that.

But Marl did not raise his sword to strike them dead. From behind him, another person Josel knew dashed into the room. With a pistol in her hand, Melgy looked as taut as a bowstring.

"Good," the gray-haired woman said, pushing past Marl. "Is the boy alive?" She asked Josel, pointing at Zdain.

"He lives…are you going to kill us?"

The corner of Melgy's mouth lifted up. "You have some strange fantasies about us. You'll come with us for now."

Josel nodded languidly, staggering with his burden.

"Marl, take the boy. Let's go," Melgy said.

"Go?" Marl grunted questioningly.

"Yes. Zal couldn't find what he was looking for. It's gone."

Marl muttered something in reply, sheathed his sword without wiping off the blood and took Zdain from Josel.

"Can you run?" Melgy asked Josel, who replied in the affirmative. "Good. Follow me and don't try anything stupid or I'll really kill you." With that, Melgy and Josel headed for the hall. Marl followed, Zdain in his arms.

When they reached the entrance hall, Josel was no longer surprised to see Zal descending the stairs from the top floor. The same stairs Josel and Zdain had tiptoed down a couple of nights earlier, hoping to escape.

"There was nothing of note up there," the old man replied, seeing Melgy's questioning expression. Then Zal let his eyes wander between Josel and Zdain, who was hanging limply on Marl's lap. "The young fugitives are among us again," he said wryly, indicating to Melgy that it was time to leave the house.

Outside the door they met Ragart on guard duty, holding a rifle-like weapon in front of him, but with a shorter barrel. The man wore a black, wide-brimmed hat on his bald head. The pot-bellied merchant looked tense, but at least he nodded to Josel and gave Zdain a serious look.

"Did you find Marta Donthav?" he asked.

Zal shook his head, to which Josel replied laconically: "She's dead."

"Dead," Ragart repeated, rather impassively. "I knew her husband. Amdus Donthav was a competent merchant." Then the fat man fell silent and turned the barrel of his gun back into the night.

Only now did Josel look around to see two bodies lying on the pavement in front of the house. The closer one, lying on his stomach, was easily identified as Toma, and the larger corpse must have been one of the two thugs that had dragged them into the cellar. Something or someone was missing, however, and that worried Josel more than anything else.

"Faceless?" he voiced his concern aloud.

Surprisingly, Zal seemed to know what he meant. "It has escaped. I don't know where, which is why we should leave as soon as possible."

Josel could not even imagine how Zal was aware of what the Faceless were. It was something the books did not tell.

Suddenly, somewhere far away, the bells of the fire brigade began to ring out. They all looked in the direction from which the bells were tolling. A reddish glow lit up the skyline, and along with the sound of the fire bells came banging that reminded Josel of his last night in Paidos.

"Shooting," Ragart said. "The Ipalos governor is a dead man."

"That was to be expected," Zal replied.

At the same time, they heard a rapidly approaching hoofbeat. There must have been several horses. Ragart beckoned everyone to follow and started to run, only to be cut off by the sound of words coming from the darkness.

"The house is surrounded. Stop or you will be shot!" someone shouted into the loudspeaker.

Everyone looked at Zal, who waved his hand in a reassuring sign to stop. "Fox, you speak," he whispered to Ragart as the four riders approached out of the darkness.

As the horses reached the illuminated circle of the streetlamp, Josel studied the newcomers, wondering which of them might be Faceless who had taken on the new character.

Three of the riders were men with rifles, easily identifiable as shadow sentries by their clothing. The sight of the fourth made Josel gasp and his heart beat wildly. On a white horse sat a beautiful young woman with long black hair. Jolanda.

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