Black Water Rises
Chapter Nine
Black smoke reeking of rotted flesh danced with spiralling fog as it rose from the pyre. It meshed together, moving like the breath of an unseen beast, blowing out then sucking back in on itself. Aramis' heart pounded as a dark shape formed amidst the flames where Thunderbird had stood.
It grew larger and larger until it formed into a giant bird. The creature stepped forward through the flames, tossing them aside as if they were feathers on the wind. Wood snapped and creaked under the claws of the beast, jolting Aramis each time the ominous sound cracked in his ears.
It was Thunderbird, and he emerged from the mass of smoke and flame, slow and steady; his head low, teeth bared, each movement forward imbuing fear in Aramis. It was his vision… it was the night of the attack… all over again.
Thunderbird bared his teeth in a brief smile of such brutality it stole Aramis' breath. The razor-sharp fangs looked formidable enough to cut through bone in a single bite.
A string of curses unravelled from Aramis' lips as Thunderbird circled them like they were his prized prey. Even though the sun remained hidden, driven into exile by fog and smoke, his feathers shimmered like torchlight on a diamond.
Porthos tried to gain his footing. He collapsed back to the ground with a startled look. D'Artagnan rushed to his side. Athos kept close to Aramis, his grip on Aramis' hand cutting off circulation.
"My god," said Athos, rising to his unsteady feet.
Aramis followed him to standing. Beside them, d'Artagnan pulled Porthos to his feet. Sweat glistened on Porthos' forehead, his breath fired in short bursts, but he seemed capable of standing on his own.
"What the hell is happening?" asked d'Artagnan. He pulled out his sword and looked around at the others. "How is this possible?"
"How is any of this possible!" shouted Athos. His sword was poised, ready for battle, and he was watching Thunderbird slowly circling them.
Aramis' legs were buckling beneath him. He didn't know how much longer he could stand. He grabbed his blade from the back of his belt and threw it at the transformed creature. It was a last ditch effort; it was all he had.
Porthos attacked next. He charged, slashing and hacking at the beast. Thunderbird tossed him aside with a swat of his arm, a guttural growl tore from Porthos' his lips when he crashed to the ground. Porthos did not get up.
"He must be stopped!" screamed Aramis, with his sword drawn as he ran at Thunderbird.
Aramis tried to duck beneath a swing from Thunderbird's massive winged arm, but it struck him in the side sending him tumbling backward.
His head buzzed like a beehive, drowning all other sounds as he lay in the dirt watching Thunderbird stalking his friends. He heard no screams coming from his friends open mouths, he heard no screeches from Thunderbird as swords and blades pierced his skin. There was no sound, only pain.
He looked heavenward to draw confidence, then rolled onto his stomach to rise and continue the fight…
Through the fog he spotted an array of colours.
It was the damn totem that had started all this.
Swallowing the bile the sight of the pole caused to rise in his throat, he raised to sword to aid his friends.
A voice in his head rose above the buzzing in his mind, stopping him before he charged into the foray. 'But first he must plant his totem so he can return.'
It was Jeanette's voice, once soft and sad as she read aloud from the journal. Now screaming clear and determined in his mind.
"It's his totem we must burn!"
Aramis looked over his shoulder and watched Athos swinging his sword, d'Artagnan beside him. Porthos was knelt in the dirt, firing his pistol as flames and feathers filled the air. Aramis realized they had not heard him over the noise of battle. He set his sight back on the totem. "I started this, I should be the one to finish it."
He scrambled to his feet, mind awhirl with thoughts of his brothers but determined to destroy that damn totem. The terrain tangled with his feet, pitching him forward. He reached out with an outstretched arm to steady himself. His arm flailed, his feet tripped over burrows and stones, all semblance of coordination lost.
Hunched over, Aramis staggered toward the totem, his legs quickly losing strength. He fell to his knees grasping his torso, head spinning and lungs constricting. The totem was a blur of colours just out of reach.
Behind him he heard the shouts and curses of his brothers. He heard the hissing and snarling of Thunderbird and imagined the damage his claws and teeth could inflict on a human being.
"I must go on."
He pushed up to standing, but felt air rush past his ears as he started falling back to the ground. Someone caught him before he touched earth and pulled him back up.
"I have you, Aramis," said Jeanette.
Listing heavily to his side, Jeanette saved him from plummeting back to the ground by throwing one of his arms around her shoulder. Aramis appreciated the help, but he needed to ensure her safety. "You must go," he said.
"I must stay."
"I can't protect you."
Jeanette smiled. "From what? Death? I think we're past that already."
"Good point. To the totem," he said.
They carried on, Aramis dazed by exhaustion, Jeanette burdened by his weight, and both infuriated with the battle raging behind them. As soon as they reached the pole, Aramis collapsed on the ground.
In previous battles, he had seen action far worse than this, and all he had to do here was light a totem on fire. But never before had he felt fear and exhaustion so extreme that his body refused to obey his commands.
Aramis moved clumsily to his knees, driven by determination and the need to end this. From his pocket he pulled flint, and with a rock found at the base of the totem he banged them together.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, when the first strike did not ignite. He tried again, fingers fumbling with urgency.
"Do not worry about us." Jeanette's hand wrapped around one of his, calming his tremble. "My people and I deserve rest."
Aramis thought he saw a fleeting glimmer of life in her eyes as she stared back at him. He struck the flint against the rock harder this time, with conviction. "I'm sorry." He struck it again, anger fuelling his strength. "I'm sorry." A shower of sparks ignited. He grabbed a stick, lit the end, and looked at Jeanette; the sorrow within his heart surely reflected in his eyes. "Good-bye, Jeanette. May you and your people finally rest in peace."
He lowered the torch to the base of the totem. "It's time to send Thunderbird back to the hell he crawled out of."
The totem lit.
Aramis turned back to where his brothers were fighting Thunderbird. Standing back from the flames, and with arms covering their faces from the heat of the inferno, Athos and d'Artagnan stood with swords still in hands. Porthos was on his knees, head down. Awake and alive.
Aramis could not see Thunderbird, but the ball of flame hovering over the ground emitting screeches and groans gave him a good idea where he was. The fire seemed to suspend in air for a moment, the flames static and unmoving, smoke no longer rising.
Then the fiery mass plunged in on itself. It sucked the air from Aramis' lungs as it recoiled, then blew across the square like the breath from a monstrous demon, knocking Aramis onto his back. Dizzy from hitting his head, chest burning from lack of oxygen he lay there panting. His senses drowned in the stench of burning flesh and melting iron. It was the last thing he recalled before darkness claimed him.
~M~
The first songs of the morning birds wakened Aramis. Lying on his back, he prised open his heavy eyelids and stared at the sky. In his heart he felt that before long, the sun would appear and everything would be clear.
Ready to rise, Aramis shifted. His muscles stiffened and his bones ached from the cold morning dew penetrating his clothes. The fire crackling nearby offered comfort, but did little to chase away the chill that had taken hold of his body.
Someone must have pulled him back from the totem, because the fire sputtering next to him now was smaller and more intimate, meant for warmth not destruction.
Above, the clouds in the sky still covered the earth in a grey blanket, but the trees, the grass and the forest across the empty field were clear and visible.
Black Water was gone.
The church, the inn, Jeanette's house. Everything. On the horizon, just above the tree line, the sky softened to a dim blue and the clouds thinned like lace.
"It's beautiful," Aramis said, drawing surprised looks from his brothers. "The forest is green again. The leaves are brilliant."
"And it's peaceful," said d'Artagnan.
Aramis crossed himself as he looked at him. "They are peaceful."
Beside him Porthos rustled, rolled onto his back and sat up with a frown marring his features. "Yeah, it's beautiful and all that, but I'm ready to get the 'ell out of this place."
"You and me both, brother," replied Aramis. He rose to standing, bracing his torso. The twinge in his side reminded him that Thunderbird had smashed his ribs. But the pain, once a hindrance, he now welcomed. It reminded him he was alive. He looked at Porthos and smiled.
Athos and d'Artagnan helped Porthos to his feet, and Aramis studied their scrapes and bruises. He thanked God they had all escaped without serious injury.
D'Artagnan pointed to the edge of the forest to their left. "Look."
The three of them turned to see their horses grazing near the trees. Aramis had forgotten all about them. But as the stables had disappeared together with all of Black Water, it would only make sense their horses would be released.
Porthos gave a whistle and two of the horses turned to them. He whistled again, and all four came cantering to where they stood. "Good boys," Porthos said, patting one of their noses. "It's all over now, don't you worry."
"I pray that is truth you speak," said Aramis.
Athos slung an arm over Aramis' shoulder. "This may be over, and I'm glad everyone survived, but I meant what I said. You must learn to think before you act. If you get us into another situation like this, I will kill you myself."
D'Artagnan came to stand with them, leading his horse behind him. "To be fair, if Aramis hadn't gotten us stuck in this situation, these villagers would still be trapped. And Thunderbird would still be here to prey on other victims."
Athos glared. "Not the point."
"It kind of is the point," replied d'Artagnan.
"Well, I think it's safe to say Thunderbird won't be trappin' anymore victims. " said Porthos.
D'Artagnan glanced over the empty field. "Burning the totem seems to have done the trick. Hopefully it ends him for good." He looked back at Athos with hooded eyes. "So, are we still reporting this village to the King?"
"Absolutely not."
The End.