True Targets part 5
I felt relieved hearing the police investigation was closed. It meant a
general quieting down of the activities surrounding the library break in
and the disappearance of Almasy. It also meant the end of attention
around my own person, which was something I needed and wanted. I
spent the rest of the day in the faculty collection, searching for certain
chronicles of my uncle's and checking specific passages of Liber
Ivonis, intentionally avoiding returning to my room and bumping into
any of Almasy's friends in the dorms.
When the sun had been exchanged for the moon, I found myself at
Arkham's large cemetery, armed with a few memorized passages from
Liber Ivonis, a powerful torch, a coil of rope, a small knife with a
retractable blade and a reliable lighter. I didn't know what to expect,
but thought too much preparation would hinder improvisation once the
events got underway as I expected they would and deemed it better to
be loose and responsive than clinging tightly to a fixed plan. The night
was dead quiet. As the previous nights, there was no wind, the
temperature had decreased from that of the day, but it was still warm.
The heat made the stars look distant and weak but the moon was large
and yellow like a harvest moon.
The quiet cemetery lay in darkness. Except for the lamps in the streets
bounding the cemetery, there was nothing illuminating the area. Large
and profusely growing trees and bushes dominated the small city of the
dead. What kind of unnameable resources nourished these plants I
preferred to keep out of my mind.
I retraced a path I had walked three weeks before to the older section
of the graveyard and the moss covered and crumbling giant
gravestones and mausolea dedicated to Arkham's rich of the past.
Aided by the torch and memory, I had no problems finding the simple
granite slab lying level with the ground bearing the inscription "Hesper
Payne, 1686-1732". Hesper Payne, accused of witchcraft and
fraternizing with the devil in 1732, sentenced to death by crushing of
stones the same year, but who had mysteriously disappeared from her
cell a few days before the sentence was to be carried out. All that had
been found in the cell was an oddly angled symbol on the floor, which
was erased as soon as Cotton Mather, the leader of the witch
investigations, had taken a look at it. Payne was never seen again.
In the old days symbols had to be drawn for a gate to be effective,
spells had to be chanted, the site sprinkled with blood or holy water in
elaborate rituals in methods that were haphazard at best. But modern
parapsychology had worked out that the symbols, sounds, patterns and
gestures were nothing but focal points to guide the mind of the person
performing the ritual to will movement of energy and objects between
different planes. Hyper Euclidean geometry was one of the sciences
which had solved some of the mysteries about such movement. Direct
and applied parapsychology were other such sciences and knowledge
from all of them were at my disposal.
By visualizing a memorized hyper Euclidean geometrical pattern to
concentrate on as an abstract pointer for the summoning, I began to set
up the gate. After spotting her in dreams, Hesper Payne had appeared
from interdimensional space using one of her crude geometrical gates
in an attempt to bind me for purposes unknown. Hesper Payne never
left Arkham, she merely went into hiding and kept spying on the town
which she regarded as her own. From time to time she would contact
and call men which she drew to her. The last time that had happened
was four years ago when Walter Gilman disappeared in Payne's old
home at King street. But knowing the paranormal history of the town I
knew who I was dealing with when discovering her and avoided falling
in her trap.
A summoning spell carried a great risk, Payne was certain to desire
revenge for the humiliation of being summoned and then bound as was
my intention to do to her but I wasn't afraid. I had methods to banish
her from this and the neighbouring planes forever and she knew it.
Five yards in front of me, above the stone slab which covered Hesper
Payne's mock grave, a memorial she nevertheless was emotionally
attached to because of her thirst for revenge on her jurors and thus an
appropriate location for summoning her, a greenish glow appeared. As
I focused my mind on the pattern I had prepared the light increased in
strength. The summoning would soon be complete.
"Nice job, Leonheart," a voice growled behind me. I turned quickly
but not fast enough. A heavy blow hit me in the chest and knocked me
sprawling on the ground. I gasped for air and trying to open the painful
knot in my chest, my eyes filled with tears and blurred my vision. But
the voice had been enough to identify my assailant as Almasy, I didn't
need to see him to be certain of that. I quickly pulled the knife out
from the right pocket and released the short blade from its casing,
keeping it close to my body. With strained breath I struggled to my
knees to face Almasy.
He looked even more ragged and gaunt than last time, his limbs having
turned to nothing but matted fur and bones and his face being little
more than a domed forehead, short snout and small dark eyes, having
nearly lost all traces of humanity. I guessed the changes were caused
by the death process he had been through. He now truly looked like a
reanimated corpse. My surprise and disgust must have been visible,
because suddenly Almasy began to laugh.
"Not proud of your work, are you Leonheart?" He grabbed hold of my
jacket front, leaned down and breathed into my face. "Take a good
look because it'll be the last thing you'll see in this life." I didn't wait
for his move but quickly extended my right hand to drive the knife into
his left arm. He howled and instinctively lashed out. I reeled
backwards but held the knife out in front of me. Another blow and I
ended up on my back but by concentration and luck, managed to hang
onto the blade. He was over me in an instant but I had the knife ready
and slashed him again, this time in the belly.
He retracted for a moment, clutching his stomach. I scrambled up and
closed in to try to get another hit. But it had been a feint, suddenly he
grabbed my right wrist with both hands and twisted it. I yelled and let
go of the knife, the pain too sudden and too strong to be suppressed.
Almasy put one claw around my throat and began squeezing. I knew I
would not be able to talk my way out of it this time. Almasy wanted
revenge and it was too close for him to be reminded of human
sensitivities now.
"Enjoy your death, Leonheart," Almasy growled. "I'll be waiting for
you on the other side and give you a lesson in the life of the undead." I
fumbled in my pocket for the lighter. Where was it? My fingers felt
stiff and uncontrollable and I was beginning to become tempted by the
idea of giving in to the drowsiness which was clouding my mind.
Distantly, I felt Almasy shake me once and thought "this is it". But at
that moment, my fingers grasped the square metal of the lighter and
that gave me hope. With unseeing eyes I pulled the lighter out, flicked
it open and lit it. Then I held it against Almasy's side. The moment a
cloying darkness began to envelop my consciousness, I saw a
flickering yellow light in front of me. Almasy's flesh was burning. He
let go of me and pulled backward but I fell with him and we both
ended up on the ground. I held onto Almasy and kept the small fire of
the lighter close to him. He bellowed as his left arm caught fire and
began to burn with preternatural speed. I pulled away from him.
"Give it up, Almasy and I'll get you home," I panted. "Believe me, you
can be cured!"
He looked up at me, both arms on fire and the flames spreading to his
shoulders and chest, no longer caring whether he was burning or not.
"Was that the only thing I was to you?" he asked with a tremor of
sadness in his thick voice. "Your big experiment? A test for your smart
spells? You were aware of my family's history and knew that Payne
would easily trap me once you deflected her attention to me, using the
heritable elements to her advantage. I had no way of resisting her
binding spells . You let me take your place in her snares. You knew
this would happen! I'm not the monster here. You are."
"I'm sorry," I said. "Please come with me and we can work this out.
I'm sure there is a cure to be found." His only reply was a bitter laugh.
Then the flames on his body died down as suddenly as they had
appeared. I steeled myself and tried to concentrate.
The shadowy form of Hesper Payne appeared next to us, a billowing
form of impenetrable darkness and a pair of malevolently glowing eyes
hovering above the tall grass. She extended one hand and passed it
over Almasy's face.
"Sleep," she commanded and his dark and smoking form fell to the
ground. Then she looked up to face me. Her form seemed to stretch
out.
"Boy sorceror. Thinking you could best Hesper Payne." She laughed.
Her rasping voice was carried through multiple dimensions and had a
strange echoing quality to it. I didn't reply, but kept concentrating on
the binding pattern I had secured for her in the hope that there was
enough time for the pattern to be activated.
"You and he were easy catches," she continued. "So eager for power
and so blind. You certainly are your forefathers' descendants. Men,
how easily seduced by their own power and arrogance they are." She
laughed again and looked back at Almasy's immoveable form on the
ground behind her. The pattern ready, I stretched out my mind to
include her in it. She looked up.
"Your magic, not bad because of your blood. But your deflecting spell
never worked. Instead I decided to take the sacrifice you offered and
come for you afterwards." Shutting her venomous remarks out, I
increased the strength of my concentration, focused on the pattern to
the exclusion of all else and reached out for her mind again. This time I
managed to take hold of her but only momentaily before icy pain shot
though my head, breaking my concentration completely.
"Stupid boy, never knowing when to give up," she hissed. "You will
be a good catch when you're dead." She lifted one hand in some kind
of signal. Numerous shadows appeared from the bushes separating
each headstone around us. Some of the shadows seemed to appear
right out of the earth itself. The air filled with the stench of the grave
and the sound of tittering and growling voices. I looked around. About
ten ghouls were closing in on me. Hesper Payne's shadowy form faded
into the darkness. I saw a pair of ghouls bend over Almasy and pick
him up. Then a blow hit me at the back of the neck and I knew no
more.
Lemon sails and the creaking of wood against wood. The sound of air
straining sail tarpaulin and water rushing past the bough. The smell of
salt water and good weather. The gentle movements of the ocean. I
was back at the ship.
I recognized the ship, the bearded and turbaned crew and even some of
the other passengers onboard. Time again became drawn out into an
infinity of warm and lazy days on an open and featureless sea under a
generously blue sky. I spent the time conversing with the passengers
and learning some of their stories and destinations. I even asked one of
the crew where were headed.
"The Plateu of Leng," was the reply. Then the turbaned man turned
away and walked over to his shipmates and entered conversation with
them. I asked the other passengers about our destination while trying
not to appear too ignorant about our destination. Most of the
passengers seemed to be going to Leng to trade some kind of object or
other which had a name but one I didn't understand. I decided that
Leng was a trading port of some kind, much like the city we had
departed from and most were headed to Leng to sell the wares they had
bought there.
I received a strange flutelike instrument from a gaunt blackskinned
passenger who seemed for a time strangely curious about my presence
on the ship. In order to gain some peace from his incessant and
sometimes unanswearable questions, I begged the flute of him under
the excuse of being bored and wanting to learn to play it.
"By all means, take the flute," the black man said. "But beware, it's a
lamp eft flute."
"What does it do ?" I asked.
"The flute emits vibrations which are particularly harmonious to lamp
efts, causing them to follow you wherever you go. You are strong, it
shouldn't be particularly difficult for you to befriend a couple of them
and keep them alive." The black man grinned at me and handed me the
slim wooden instrument. "Try it if you dare, but only after nightfall,"
he added with a wink. Then he got up and disappeared into the
doorway leading to the cabins.
I watched the endless sea and the endless blue sky until forgetfulness
overcame me. Then it became dark and white stars filled the sky with
extraordinary, unearthly brilliance as if the distant suns were closer to
us here than they were in the waking world. I looked down at the flute
in my hand debating with myself whether I should take the chance of
testing it or not. I didn't know what a lamp eft was and whether it
would represent a danger for the ship. But I had a feeling I knew how
the dream would end no matter what I did, so I put the flute to my lips
and blew into it. The flute produced a thin clicking sound, not the
melodious tone I was expecting. It was a dry but startlingly loud noise
which seemed to increase in strength as it spread into the air before
finally dying out in a whisper.
After a few minutes, several lights appeared some ways off starboard
side, white orbs of light moving up and down in the air. A high pitched
vibrating noise could be heard as the lights grew closer to the ship's
side and soon a melodious whistling, not unlike that of birds could be
heard.
"Lamp efts approaching! Hurrah!" a female passenger with long green
hair, the most outrageous hair color I had seen in my life, shouted and
laughed. An elongated creature with a flattened newt like tail appeared
in the air next to her. On top of its narrow head were two enormous
eyes occasionally producing a beam of intensely bright white light. As
the creature moved its body through the air, undulating like a fish
swimming in water, the light beams from its eyes moved and played
over the deck. Soon another light creature appeared, then another,
swinging their eye beams back and forth as they moved in the air. The
creatures' flanks held a row of bright spots, one on each annulum of
the body. These spots changed color, and the sequence of light passing
down the body changed in rhythm with the general motion of the
animal. When the animal moved slower in the air, the lights on the
flanks changed less quickly, when the animal seemed to be roused by
the promiximity of other efts or humans, the bright spots lighted in
quick sucession along the animal's sides.
Several of the passengers came out to watch the efts and their
improvised light show. The lamp efts seemed to enjoy having an
audience and accompanied the performance with a flute like
monotonous song which was strangely calming. I watched the
movements of the lamp efts for a long time, marveling at their graceful
movement through the air and the hypnotic blinking of lights on their
sides until I fell asleep on the ship's deck.
Then it was day again and the storm broke loose. Knowing what lay
ahead, I stayed in my bunk being violently seasick and nervously
awaiting the sinking. When the sickening ripping sound of the main
mast breaking reverberated through the ship, I went outside. As the
ship turned and I hit the water, I had time for one last draw of breath.
Then I began sinking, pulled down by the raging sea and the sinking
ship. I concentrated on a bright spot inside my mind, imagined it the
eyes of a lamp eft and tried to remember their montonous and calming
song. I fell through the water with great speed as if I were trapped in a
strong current leading down into the Stygian depths.
I had air left when the light at the surface was but a faint memory
above and a subtle green glow appeared in the darkness below me. I
looked around and became astonished. As I had glimpsed in the
previous dream, I was at the bottom of the sea looking down on the
skyline of an entire sunken city. Through the blackness and silhouetted
against the green glow that seemed to come from the buildings
themselves I could make out the shapes of towers, a few bridges and
numerous smaller buildings. There was indeed a current present and it
seemed to pull me quickly towards a specific structure, a twisting and
oddly shaped tower in the middle of the city. I had the sensation of
someone calling my name over and over again. Then I ran out of air
and gasped my last breath into the black infinity of deep ocean.
I watched the treeline above me sway in an unfelt breeze. The sky held
the bruised violet of dawn. From far away I heard the morning chatter
of birds sitting inside the vegetation of the cemetery. I was lying on the
ground by Hesper Payne's slab. I turned and vomited up the water that
had gotten into my lungs. It wasn't half as frightening now that I knew
what to expect, but it was still scary and painful. The salt water burned
in my chest. I was soaking wet and still cold.
"Tough trip?" someone asked. I flinched and looked up, expecting a
vengeful Almasy. A hunched shadow rose from the headstone it had
been sitting on. A ghoul, but much larger and gaunter than Almasy and
being clad in nothing but a few rags, obviously not being Almasy. In
the predawn light, something blinked on its face. A pair of round
spectacles were sitting at the ghoul's nose. I stared at the ghoul.
"Allow me to introduce myself," the ghoul said. "My name is, or rather
was, Richard Upton Pickman. Your uncle was a close friend of mine
and we traversed the dreamlands together many times. Boy, I had
never expected to meet his nephew. But I can see that you are your
uncle's blood and travel the dreamlands as easily as he did."
"Pleased to meet you," was the only thing which came to my mind. I
strained my tired head to try and understand what had happened.
Dreamlands? Ghouls? Uncle Randolph? I coughed to get rid of the last
bothersome drops of water from my lungs.
"How do you know Carter was my uncle?" I asked. The ghoul grinned
at me, baring a mouthful of yellow but finger long canine like teeth, a
fairly unsettling sight.
"I can smell your kind, too curious for your own good."
I looked at him, wondering if this was true. As if the ghoul had read
my mind, he quickly added: "Not really. I had a debt to Carter I never
had the chance to pay, so I kept an eye on his family after he died.
Didn't look like I ever would get the chance to repay him, but then I
heard his nephew had started at Miskatonic and knew the time had
come. If Carter's nephew was half as curious as his uncle, he'd land
himself in paranormal trouble sooner or later out of the studies he
would see at Miskatonic. But never had I expected you to get into the
mess you have." I looked down, not knowing what to say.
"I guess your debt is paid now since you got rid of the other ghouls and
Hester for me," I finally said. The ghoul grinned.
"I reckon I did although convincing the others to leave you here
despite Payne's orders wasn't too difficult. She had bound us and
being bound is always a source for revolt. She is a royal pain in the ass,
thinking we're her personal servants, demanding us to do this and that
for her with no right other than the strength of her magic," he confided.
"She has no respect and certainly no love for us ghouls and that is
reciprocal. The others recognized you as Carter's blood kin too, so
they were quite curious to see what kind of fellow you were and
wanted to let you live. No, it was more difficult to keep your friend
away from you. He is young and still somewhat human. He won't esily
forget what he thinks you have taken away from him, his life as a
human being."
"I... I didn't think the masking spell would work," I stuttered, taking
the ghouls rebuke. "I didn't think Payne actually would confuse him
for me and I certainly didn't know she would change him into a
ghoul."
"But you did want someone else to take your place with Payne," Upton
countered. "You weren't too eager to become her target, were you?"
"No I wasn't," I admitted. "I wanted things to stay the way they were
for a while longer. I couldn't face it, not when I had a way of trying to
prevent it. And I was so certain if something happened to Almasy,
there would be a way to mend it, one way or another," I muttered. The
ghoul made another grin and shrugged.
"It's human I guess. No one wants to be a target and be hunted down
by ghosts and other beings. And maybe someone will find a way to
reverse the ghoulish condition some day. Your uncle used to think so.
But until then, we ghouls have our own ways and our own lives to tend
to."
"You will take care of Almasy, won't you ?" I asked, hearing my own
voice tremble. "Even if he was created by Payne? You'll take him in
like the others did with you that time when uncle Randolph met you?"
The ghoul sighed and looked at me with a stern gaze, but not without
some humor.
"Yes, of course we will. He is one of us now. But he will be out for
revenge, at least for the years ahead, so you should watch your back.
Frankly, I wouldn't want to be in your shoes now, having one vengeful
ghoul after me and Hesper's big hit on Arkham to look forward to
tonight." I looked at him.
"Big hit?" I asked. The ghoul nodded.
"Hesper has finally become strong enough to get her revenge on
Arkham, the city which condemned her to death so many years ago.
The power she gathered from your friend and you was the last thing
she needed to complete her summoning." I felt dizzy.
"What is she going to do?" I asked.
"I'm not sure. But she said she'd flatten Arkham to the ground. If I'm
not mistaken, she will summon her master, the Black Man and he will
appear in one of his 999 other forms and wreak havoc on the city."
When hearing that something screamed inside me.
"The black man?" I asked. "What does he look like?"
"Like the name says, completely black but not looking like an African,
just his skin is black, absorbing all light." I felt a growing fear mix
with the confusion and remorse I was feeling.
"I met a black man in my dream," I said. "He gave me this." I pulled
out the slim instrument I knew was still in my right pocket. The ghoul
jerked backwards as if in surprise.
"That was him!" Pickman said shrilly. "The Black Man, Nyarlathotep
himself!" I just looked at the ghoul. "Your uncle challenged him and
won on the roof of the world in the dreamlands," he explained.
"Nyarlathotep may be out to call in some debt on his own through
Hesper Payne." The ghoul turned his face to look at me sideways.
"You're in deep caca now. I would definitely not want to be in your
shoes. Nyarlathotep is the heart, soul and messenger of the gods. He
doesn't take trickery lightly and especially not by a mere human being.
Your uncle humiliated him. He will be taking revenge on any Carter
coming to the dreamlands."
"But he only talked to me and gave me the flute," I said. "He didn't do
anything. The flute only called up some flying newts with light for
eyes. They were peaceful." The ghoul frowned.
"Strange. Maybe he's grown soft in his old days. I would have
expected him to have tracked you down and killed you instantly the
moment you entered dreamlands. No by the way, that's not
Nyarlathotep's way. Of course he'd talk to you and see what kind of a
man Carter's nephew is. Then when he's checked you out, he'll get his
revenge, one way or another."
"Much encouragement you are, " I muttered. It seemed as if every
being in the other planes were out for my head.
"I'm sorry," Pickman replied. "But there's no way I can get you out of
this one, even if I tried. Nyarlathotep is way out of my league. We're
not talking ghouls and lamp efts and zoogs here, this is The Old Ones,
they are god like in their powers but malevolent and impossible to
understand. Needless to say, they're not healthy for your kind, human
beings or their cities."
"So that's what Hesper Payne is planning to do," I asked, wanting to
switch his attention to a slightly different subject. "Calling this black
man to her and have him destroy the city of Arkham."
"Most probably, yes. Or have him summon something for her."
"How can I stop her? My powers are not strong enough to even bind
her."
"Honestly, I have no idea," Pickman said. "You have to figure that one
out by yourself. But you have my word, if you need something done
which the ghouls actually can assist you with, we'd be willing to help,
for a small fee of course."
"Of course," I muttered.
"Call me if you need me." I nodded.
"Thank you."
The ghoul that was Richard Upton Pickman grinned, bade me goodbye
and rose from his macabre seat. Then he retreated to the darkness of
the line of trees behind the small glen in which we were sitting and
was gone. I got to my feet, gathered my torch and rope and started on
the long way home.
