Episode 72

We like to think that places don’t change

Mountains are fixed and valleys stay the same

So the towns that we love can be left with their culture

Frozen in time like a painting or sculpture

But mountains do move on magma plates

Valleys are carved at glacial pace

And so do towns change in their way

Moulded by them that leave and those who come to stay

Many people dream of flight. They long to step off the ground and fall into the sky and float away like a bird on a zephyr. Lilian Lausanne had had similar thoughts in her lifetime, but since Tauroc the demon king had picked her up and thrown her she could only wish to be back on solid ground. Wind rushed through her ears as the ground became the sky and then the ground again. Her body was flailing, desperately trying to right itself and her mind knew that if she did not protect herself then an impact from this height would surely spell the end of her. The one constant, fixed point she had was the moon and from that familiar, silver face came an idea.

Lilian fought against her instincts and closed her eyes. She took a deep breath and found her gloaming state. From there she went further and deeper into herself. Her right forearm began to burn but a little more pain on top of everything hardly seemed to mattter. She knew that it would subside if only she could bear it for a few more moments. She found herself thinking of Mr Attorcop, about how he’d never got to study this strange transformation. She would survive for him, she would fight for him and she would defeat this miserable demon who called himself a king for him. As she opened her eyes she saw that the ground was upon her and she braced herself for impact. Rushing towards her was a wooden structure, a house and Lilian realised with horror that she had been thrown all the way to Benlunar town. She prayed that no one was home as she went careening through the roof.

Lilian opened her eyes a few minutes later. The first thing she saw was the night sky and a few dotted stars through a hole in the floor above her and another through the roof of the building she’d landed in. She found that she could breathe, she found that she could move her head and look around and after testing a few muscles she found that she could move. The night form had transformed her body and given it the strength to survive the fall. She could sense her hair moving around the air like it was underwater, she looked down at her hands and saw they had changed once again. Little wisps of inky blackness dances around her palms. Her nails were still long as claws and she realised that she had still been in her werehound shape when she’d accessed the night form. She had not even considered what combining these two things would result in. But as she stepped over the rubble, as she emerged from a broken building and felt herself standing in the night and bathing in the light of the moon, she knew. She felt power in her steps, strength in her body and that strange connection to the night she had felt at the top of the palace in Freedos.

Lilian Lausanne could only wonder at these sensations for a moment however. The fall and the change had distracted her from what was happening. Tauroc was threatening to destroy Benlunar. He had already managed to target one house, Lilian would make sure that it was the last. Just then, in the dim distance of the night she heard screaming. Lilian ran. She let the wind carry her steps and jumped between the shadows that connected the thin Benlunar streets. Within seconds she was out of town and back in the woods. The darkness here felt even safer, even more present than it had been in town. Lilian could slip through the forest like an eel in the inky depths. The screams were coming from the grove and so she went straight there. As the trees began to thin she saw the shape of Tauroc carved in silhouette by the moonlight. His enormous feet created little craters with every step and she watched as he scooped up a row of tents with his left arm and flung the materials into the air just to get them out of his way. People were running in Lilian’s direction, tripping and falling over themselves to get away from this thing they had unknowingly aided in releasing.

Lilian sprinted up a fallen tree, found purchase on a moonbeam and ran into the air towards the demon king. When she was high above him she let go of that power and jumped down towards the cow headed giant. She brought her tungsten switch down like a woodsman’s axe and watched as it connected with the centre of the cow’s forehead. A sickening crunch filled her ears and Lilian continued her momentum down to the floor of the grove. Tauroc came with her some of the way, his head forced down by the impact. But just as soon as Lilian could look back up at him, the Demon King was shaking the hit off and regaining his senses. Lilian saw thick spittle flick through the air as Tauroc rattled his head like a dog fresh out of a bath. When he opened his eyes and saw Lilian standing in front of him in her new shape his expression was hard to read.

“You…!” he said.

“Me.”

Lilian wasted no time in catching up. She jumped to the side to strike at Tauroc’s knee. He stepped back and brought his left arm down. Lilian ducked under it and felt the ground tremor as Tauroc’s fist connected with the earth. Lilian swiped twice at his elbow and connected both times. It felt like hitting a tree trunk but judging by the wince in his eye Lilian could tell she was doing some kind of damage. Tauroc went for a grab, Lilian dodged through his hand using the shadow his massive form created. Reappearing on his shoulder she jammed the end of her weapon in the cow’s eye. Tauroc reeled back with a deafening bovine croak and Lilian’s base was taken out from under her. She fell through the air and found a large knee waiting to break her fall. Lilian hit it like a rock in a shallow pool. All the air from her lungs was expelled and she fought for a moment to breathe. She was fast and strong, but although she looked very different, underneath it all she was still human. Thankfully, she healed quickly and was back on her feet in time to jump out of the way of an incoming punch. Tauroc’s right eye was read and streaming but he still had good use of his other senses.

Despite her speed and connection with the night, she was forced backwards. The grove was clear of citizens but it was obvious from Tauroc’s trajectory and ferocity that he was desperate to get into Benlunar proper. Lilian was the only thing standing between him and the town and slowly but surely she was being pushed back.

The night form when combined with the feinhound shape was quicker and stronger and the heightened senses of smell and hearing were kept as well. But even these incredible boons were of little use when every fibre of Lilian’s body was tired and every new hit sent enough force through her to shatter a brick wall. She had to focus on defence. She lead Tauroc into the trees and tried to put as many large objects as she could between them. His giant steps meant he could cover the ground from the grove to Benlunar in just a few minutes and so Lilian desperately tried to increase that time. She needed to give Serena, Peter and the others enough time to get everyone underground. As Tauroc smashed a fir tree to splinters Lilian chanced a glance backwards. The road into town was visible. Lilian was running out of space. She looked back at her attacker and quickly brought her arms up to guard her head. A fist the size of a barrel was speeding towards her and Lilian had to brace for impact. Her check was going to cost her dearly and she was already considering how she would recover from the hit when she stopped.

The hit never came. Instead, when Lilian opened her eyes she looked to where the arm was coming from only to see it frozen mid air. It even looked as if it was going backwards a little. Slowly, the bigger picture revealed itself to her. Tiny vines were wrapping themselves round and round the Demon King’s limbs, slowing his momentum. The vines were sprouting from the ground and the surrounding trees, they moved quickly like a wriggling mass of snakes. Roots erupted from the earth to spin around his ankles. Was the forest reacting to Lilian’s plight? Suddenly, she realised who was responsible. Lilian looked to her right and saw Mrs Thoreson walking slowly through the trees, her arms outstretched and her fingers moving as if she was puppeteering distant marionettes. Tauroc bellowed in frustration and ripped his left arm up and out. The vines snapped and whipped away only to be replaced by even more.

“If you can weaken him, do so now,” Mrs Thoreson cried out, “I cannot hold his strength back for long.”

Lilian thought quickly. She’d struck his eyes and his head quite hard already and that didn’t seem to have done much. Watching her opponent struggle against the whipping leaves and thick roots she tried desperately to find a weakness. The head is traditionally the weakest part of the body, that was certainly true for humans. But Tauroc was not human. His body shape only suggested humanity. His muscular man’s torso surely was convincing, even though it was three times the size of the biggest man she’d ever seen. Well, thought Lilian, if it looks human, perhaps it shares human weaknesses. Lilian sprang forward with all the might the night could provide, took five paces and then launched into the air with the aid of a sturdy rock. She leaped forward and extended her right leg out at the last minute. Her foot connected with Tauroc’s solar plexus, the centre space just below where his ribs met in the middle of his chest. A kick like that to a normal man’s body could cause internal bleeding, even death. At the very least it would push all the air from his lungs and cause him to collapse. Against Tauroc it did seem to have an effect, albeit not quite as deadly. The air from his chest was expelled all at once in a wailing moo. Lilian took advantage of him bending over double to crouch low and then launch herself into an uppercut. She saw blood spray from Tauroc’s teeth as he bit down hard on his tongue. Lilian struck him again and again and again, leaping to and fro between the shadows swiping each time with her tungsten switch and backed by the full force of the night.

Any observer would claim that the attack was successful and that Tauroc was indeed weaker now than he had been a few moments ago. But that observer would also have noticed that his anger and rage were doubling with every strike. Apparently the Demon King was not used to being beaten. With a bellow he stood up, yanking all vines and roots out from their bases on his left side. Mrs Thoreson shouted as if she’d been physically hit, her body doubtless tied to the magic of the vines.

“Get back,” Lilian barked at her mentor. She wanted to look to see that Mrs Thoreson had gotten away but she needed to keep her full attention on the escaping Demon. Trees ripped and cracked as he pulled himself free of the forest. Lilian thought his movements seemed more sluggish, but his ferocity more than made up for his reduction in speed. Tauroc bent his head down like a charging bull and ran full pelt towards Lilian. There was no time to dodge, and even if she did, he would charge past her and make his way to Benlunar even quicker. Lilian would have to absorb the impact. She breathed out, focused on the gloom around her and gathered it up like wool. She forced the shadows to harden at her back and for the night to support her body like netting. Putting her arms up in front of her face Lilian braced for the impact. It came like a tidal wave. Immediately her feet began to sink into the ground as she was pushed backwards into the dirt. The hardened darkness around her did well to take most of the impact, but Lilian’s body did not get by unscathed. The Demon King snorted great jets of steam as he pushed her further and further back. Lilian no longer cared for her own well being, weaken him, were the only words she could think, weaken him more, weaken him until he cannot move. She may not be able to beat him in a straight fight, but as long as she had the night on her side, she could wait him out. And when he was weak enough she would… she would…

Lilian could not think of the answer. She would… what? Kill him? Put him back in a painting? She did not know, she only prayed to whichever god was watching her that she would know the answer when the time came.

Tauroc’s charge had been absorbed, but he was not content with finishing the attack there. With Lilian directly in front of him pushing back against his head, he used his arms to strike her body. Lilian shifted the shadows to protect herself but they could only do so much. Each punch was a boulder landing on a beach. One, two, three then four and five together. Lilian could taste blood, she had not breathed in a minute, her jaw was numb from clenching it so tightly. Finally, Tauroc delivered a blow that broke her guard. Lilian flew back twenty feet and hit a tree stump sending a flash of white hot pain throughout her body. She tried to stand, but could not. She tried to move her arm, but could not. Finally she tried simply to breathe, but only a sliver of air could enter her lungs. From the vibrations around her, she surmised that Tauroc was walking towards her. Was this it? She wondered, would she be joining Kilde and Mr Attorcop soon. And if so, would they be proud of her or would they shake their heads in sorry disappointment at the girl who failed to save Benlunar?

No final blow came. Tauroc judged the fight to be over and so went onwards towards his goal, towards the destruction of Lilian’s home town. The vibrations faded away and shame flooded Lilian’s head. She did not know which hurt more, her injuries, or her failure. With mammoth effort Lilian looked up at the moon. It was big and beautiful as ever. Bigger than most nights in fact. She felt a hot tear fall from her eye. As far as last sights go, this one was not too bad. Strange though, she thought. Either death was late, or Lilian had a few breaths left in her.

In Benlunar town square, Doran was ushering the last of the grove’s inhabitants into the Stave Church.

“Come now, come now,” he said in what he hoped was a comforting voice devoid of panic, “let’s get you all inside and we can gather. You’ll be safer downstairs, head to the back of the church and down into the catacombs.”

One woman with big green eyes clutched his hand as she went past, “Gods bless you storyteller.”

Doran smiled, “we’ll see my dear. For now, thank those that made these floors thick and the basements deep.” Doran shot a look over at Serena and Peter who were on the other side of the Church doors. They looked tired, but Serena was still smiling her most charming and reassuring grin. Peter was helping an older man to drink some tea, doubtless a calming brew of herbs and goodness. These were fine folk indeed to have by your side in a time of crisis.

A low rumble shook the old traveller’s bones. Others must have felt it too because there was a sudden increase in energy from everyone entering the Stave.

“Stay calm for the younger folk, make your ways with haste and not speed. There is plenty of room in the levels below.” Another rumble wormed its way into the thick stones of the Stave floor.

“We should shut the doors,” Peter shouted at Doran from across the way. Doran nodded and made sure the last people, a family of three, were inside before getting to work. The door was heavy but swung confidently on well oiled hinges. Peter and Serena shut theirs at the same time and all three of them took one final look out into the moonlit square. Just before their vision was cut off by the closing doors, they saw a cow’s head appear from around a building.

Tauroc, the Demon King, had reached his goal. That fool Fenric had better make good for the trouble it had been worth. But perhaps being here was reward enough. His senses were filled with beautiful things that were loved dearly by so many. He always liked to pause before savouring destruction on this scale. He looked around at the many little windows that dotted the edges of the town square. He looked up to the spire of their wretched church. All this sweetness, all this devotion. All of it his for the taking. Tauroc loved nothing more than to own and devour important things. He did not do this for sustenance, not for life or food. He did this for pure pleasure, and it did not get much sweeter than this. Objects were good, houses were better but people were best. And he would get to the people in time. He stepped towards a house on the edge of the paved market square and looked inside the first floor window. Smiling, he raised his fist, drew his arm back and prepared to plunge it into the depths of the building in order to extract a chest of drawers. He could feel the glass cracking on his knuckles before he even threw the punch. He would enjoy destroying this place.

Suddenly, something stopped him. What was it? A voice? A shout or something? Was someone still out here? Perhaps they had fallen behind when rushing towards their hidey hole. Tauroc looked about. It might be fun to have an audience, someone who grew up here watching the place fall to rubble. There it was again. Certainly, a voice. A woman’s voice. The breaking could wait. Tauroc looked about to find the source of the voice and eventually saw it appear from the other side of the square.

“Tauroc!” The voice cried out. No, thought the Demon King, it cannot be.

Limping through the moonlight, little Lilian Lausanne was crying out. Her night shape had disappeared, she could not withstand the pain that she would need to endure to bring it back. Her feinhound shape too was gone. All her mental capacity was taken up with walking and not falling over, so she could not maintain the animal form or start the gloaming process again. She was her own human self, walking towards a demon, ready to do whatever she could to stop it from destroying her home.

“Don’t you dare,” she meant to shout the words but they came out as barely louder than a whisper. Suddenly, she stumbled on a slippery cobble stone. She would have fallen and hit the floor, had a shape not appeared from the air and caught her. Lilian smiled at the familiar smell and feel of her faithful friend. “Thank you Fritha,” she said, steadying herself, “but you need to go. I’m not having you caught up in all of this. I need to do this alone. Disappear, go back to the mountain, and live a long and wild life.” But Fritha did not move, she just licked Lilian’s hand and shifted her weight so that she could support her friend even better.

A rumble up ahead signified the demon’s approach, “What a touching scene,” he said in that low and menacing voice, “Were I not so thrilled at your defeat, I might weep.”

Tauroc stepped closer, ignoring Fritha’s clanging barks, “Tell me girl,” he said, “dost thou wish to die now, or after thy town has reduced to rubble? If it were me,” he leaned down low so that he was almost eye to eye with Lilian, “I would not stand to witness it. Better to die and be done with the cares of the living. I may be cruel, but I am merciful in this.” At that point, Tauroc stood up to his full height, with his right arm raised high in the sky, his fist closed into a hammer, “Let me show you mercy little girl.”

Lilian tried to push Fritha away, but the stubborn hound would not budge. And so she readied herself to fight, tried to lift her arms to block the incoming strike but try as she might her body would not obey her. The pain from getting here was too great. Sobeit she thought, if she was to die, better to die defending what she loved. Lilian closed her eyes and brought Kilde and Mr Attorcop to her mind, said sorry to Serena and Peter and all the others she could not help and finally she apologised to her mother and father, they deserved better than what she was able to give them. The list would have gone on, but Lilian found it strange that she was not already dead. She opened her eyes and looked up.

Tauroc was frozen in concentration. His big pink nose twitching in the wind, smelling something it could not place or recognise, “That stench again,” he said. Lilian thought he looked comical, with his hand still high in the air but the strike never coming down. Suddenly he reeled about as if something had stepped on a twig behind him. Lilian found herself looking around as well, but the square was empty and they were alone.

Suddenly, for a brief moment, the bright light of the moon disappeared. For a split second the girl, the demon and the feinhound were plunged into darkness. It was like something had flown across the moon, a giant bird or a very fast storm cloud. When the light returned it was followed by a thunderous crash, a rumble through the floor the likes of which Tauroc could only dream of making. It shook dust from the roofs of the surrounding buildings and produced a look of terror so genuine in Tauroc’s face that Lilian almost laughed when she saw his expression. Instead of laughing though, she turned around to see what had landed behind her.

There, in all his warty glory, skin thick like a hillock, eyes bright and yellow like two independent moons, stood a statue made flesh, symbol and protector of the mountain Gorakja, The Padda Stone.

Tauroc said something then. Lilian wasn’t really listening but it sounded like the word ‘Dwaemor’. Lilian was too busy being stunned by Gorakja’s sudden appearance. The great toad wasted no time in acting, in a breath it reeled back, opened its mouth and shot its great tongue out with the speed of a bolt from a crossbow. It hit Tauroc squarely in the chest, enveloping him totally with its amorphous shape and covering him in sticky mucus. The length of the tongue stretched out above Lilian’s head and sent Tauroc crashing into the ground and pushed him into the cobbles for sixty feet, causing a great scar to appear in the floor of the market square. Lilian’s heart filled with joy, she was not alone, Gorakja had heard her plea the other night and was here to help. If only she felt stronger, she should like to fight alongside him.

The tongue whipped back, leaving its prey sprawled in the earth and stones. As soon as it was back in Gorakja’s mouth the toad began to speak, “Lilian, my deepest apologies. I was only just now able to come here. You have done an incredible feat, keeping a Demon such as this at bay. I can fight, but fear that even I might not be able to defeat him alone. Together though, we stand a good chance.”

Lilian felt a hot, happy tear fall down her cheek, “Gorakja,” she said, clutching Fritha’s fur to make sure this was not some dream, “I… I’m too hurt. I tried my best, I did, but… I can barely stand.” The Padda Stone looked down at her and brought one golden eye down to hear teary face.

“This,” he said, “I can help with.” At that point, the great toad opened his mouth and ate her.

Darkness enveloped Lilian Lausanne. She could still breathe, but the smell of the inside of Gorakja’s mouth was not particularly pleasant. It was wet and soft inside, Lilian wondered at first if he’d made some mistake, that he was just getting rid of her so that he could fight without her distracting him. But the strange saliva began to wash over her wounds. As she rolled and tumbled over his tongue her back clicked back into place, her leg swelling went down and her head cleared of its previously pounding ache. She flexed her fingers and they moved with ease. She felt energy coursing through her body. Suddenly an idea occurred to her. She closed her eyes, breathed in a lungful of the sickly smelling air and focused on her heart's golden light. She found it blazing like a bonfire and moved it out of herself and into her surroundings. She did not need long for it to fill the cells of the toad’s mouth with gold and for them to change into a shimmering green and blue. She reabsorbed these new colours and kept the image of Gorakja strong in her mind’s eye.

The Padda Stone spat her out onto her feet. Lilian breathed in the mountain air and she felt like a new woman. Every fibre of her body was saturated with energy. She looked down at her hands and saw thin webbing between her fingers. She felt power in her arms but in her legs she more than that, more than muscle, an otherworldly puissance gifted to her by Gorakja and gloaming. Her tongue felt larger and she could see through the night like it was a clear morning. She turned to smile at the Padda Stone. It laughed when it saw her.

“A fine form, young Lilian. Fine indeed. Now, be on your guard, our opponent is stirring.”

Lilian whipped round to see Tauroc’s form moving in the distance. She whispered a command to Fritha who ran away while fading into the night. Lilian gripped her switch, which miraculously had stayed in her hand whilst inside Gorakja’s mouth and she readied herself.

“Together then,” she said.

“Together Miss Lausanne,” and the final fight for Benlunar, began.

Lilian crouched down low and then jumped with all her might. The ground sped away from her at high speed until the houses were little more than toys. She must have sent herself just a little higher than the Stave Church tower. All the while, she kept her prey in her sights. Tauroc was beginning to stand up and at the apex of her jump Lilian watched him look about for her, wondering where she’d got to. He shook off the mud and dust and focused his attention on Gorakja. The toad was hopping towards him and with his final jump the two locked hands like titanic wrestlers, each one trying to twist the others wrists into submission. It was a close match but Gorakja did not need to win, he just needed to keep Tauroc in one place. At the last moment he pushed the demon back and stepped away. Lilian had been plummeting towards the earth throughout the struggle and at the last moment, curled into a ball, somersaulting round and bringing the back of her foot arching through sky and down onto the cow’s head. She meant to hit him square between the eyes, but she missed and caught his nose instead. No matter, the impact was the same. The force of the blow sent Tauroc’s nose straight down. He shrieked in pain and could only just look up before Lilian threw her might behind a swing of her tungsten switch. It connected with his knee and this time, with all her strength returned she managed to make him buckle.

Tauroc made to grab her but Lilian sprang up and out of the way of his grasp. Frustratingly, Lilian, drunk on new power, missed the fact that it was a feint and felt the sole of Tauroc’s foot smash into her rib cage, sending her flying. Lilian barrelled across the square and did not see Gorakja take advantage of the hit by turning around and kicking out with his powerful back leg. Tauroc flew much further back than Lilian, his trajectory only stopped by the front side of a house. Every window broke on impact and for a moment he was surrounded by glittering glass.

Lilian sat up and rubbed her shoulder. Demon’s really do pack a punch. But she was filled with adrenaline and so she focused her breath, found the way past gloaming and ignited the sigil of the moon and the mountain on her arm. Lilian got back up as a mixture of the night and the toad. Her grey and mottled skin became semi liquid darkness. She felt her shoulder healing quickly and so hopped two, three, four times towards the moving Padda Stone.

“Gorakja!” she cried out and the massive toad turned around and smiled at her new shape. Lilian pointed at Tauroc who was emerging from the shattered door and Gorakja understood. Lilian jumped into the sky and Gorakja’s tongue found her in the air. Whirling his head in a wide circle the great toad pulled back and whipped the little night girl straight at The Demon King. Like a dark missile she shot towards him. At the last millisecond Lilian twisted her body and kicked out both of her feet. She had the night at her back and the strength of the mountain toad in her legs. She hit the demon just as he was standing back up. The house that had cushioned his fall exploded into a cloud of dust and a large section of the edge of Benlunar town square was forced back into the street behind it. It was like meteorite had hit the market.

As the dust cleared, Tauroc tried to move. Lilian was standing on his chest and could see him blinking and trying to shakily move his hand. It reached up and tried to make a fist but Lilian felt her tongue twist and change inside her mouth and without thinking she whipped it out and struck the demon’s eye with a loud slap. She then wrapped her dark webbed fingers around Tauroc’s wrist and yanked him up and out of the rubble. He struggled a little but most of his effort was taken up with breathing. That final kick had broken many of the bones in his ribcage and Lilian could see a trickle of black blood oozing from the corner of his mouth as he spluttered and tried to speak.

“Unhand me foul creature,” Lilian smiled a wide, toady grin at the insult. She would wear it as a badge of honour. With the strength leant to her by the night she dragged the demon into the centre of the town square, walked round behind him and lifted his head towards the moon. It was big and so bright that Tauroc had to use some of his leftover strength to lift his hand to block out its silver light. He did not need to do this for long however, as Gorakja thudded over to them and stood between the demon and the moon. A dark looming shape, ready for judgement.

“Demon,” the padda stone pronounced, “you were banished by Ketson to the painted world. And yet here we find you. Tell us, is it death you seek or do we need to find a new form of banishment?”

The Demon King coughed and Lilian felt a splatter of blood hit her arm. She had it coiled round his large neck and was hoisting his cow head backwards so that he would look up at Gorakja, “Thou art a fool, Dwaemor,” Tauroc coughed again. “So long as there is cruelty in this world I cannot die.”

Gorakja narrowed his great yellow eyes at him, “then it is banishment again.” At that Tauroc began to struggle. Lilian tightened her grip on his neck but feared that he might shake her off. Her mind raced at how anything that had been hit so hard could still fight so fiercely. “Lilian,” Gorakja looked down at her now, “We need a painting.”

Lilian thought for a moment, it was not easy given that she was struggling to wrestle control over a demon, “They brought all the pictures out of the Stave so that he would not be able to enter it from the inside. I think they stored them in those houses.” She jerked her head in the direction of a pair of squat building on the west side of the square. Gorakja went over to them to investigate.

“Little girl,” Tauroc spoke out from Lilian’s choke hold, his voice constrained by the pressure, “listen to me. I am not just strength, I am myriad. I can give thee power, I can give thee life and time.” Lilian closed her mind to his offers. She could recognise the thrashings of an animal in a trap. Presently, Tauroc paused his movements and even seemed to relax. Lilian did not let her guard down. “Tell me,” he said, “thou hast lost someone no? A close friend by my hand? Or perhaps someone from your childhood. I can bring them back to you.” Lilian’s mind went dark.

“Shut up,” she said, “you’re lying.”

“Ooh I never lie about death child. Tis a realm like any other. I have walked its dark roads and I have been known to bring its sad citizens back to their loves and lives. Tell me a name child, and they shall be yours again. I shall leave thee and thine alone, I know a lost battle when I see it.”

Lilian’s teeth were gritted, these were underhanded tactics. She knew it. She knew that he was lying. And yet he sounded so sure of himself. Was there a chance? No. But then, if anyone could… She shook herself to her senses. Even if he was telling the truth, which he was not, accepting a deal with a demon was not wise. It would mean setting him free, and even if she got someone back, she would be responsible for any more deaths that Tauroc caused. Thankfully, Gorakja returned then. Beside him, was an older woman, tottering along next to the giant like a small child by its father. Mrs Thoreson, healthy and alive, carried a large frame in her arms. Lilian beamed when she saw her. She wanted to ask her questions, but realised that now was not the time.

“Tauroc,” she said as she approached, “I’m here to send you back to your painted prison. Lilian, hold him still a while longer while I draw the sigils.

The demon struggled a little more and Lilian had to refocus her efforts. His body began to shake a little up and down, and Lilian realised that he was laughing.

“Foolish old crone, the paintings are a nuisance but others will find me. They will find my church and they will release me in time. Thou art delaying the inevitable. Once release, I shall exact my revenge on thee and thine.”

Mrs Thoreson was not phased by the threat. She merely got to drawing a few well crafted chalk circles on the unmarked stones. She occasionally would glance at a little book in her left hand, as if drawing from a reference.

“Oh I’m not worried about that,” she said. Lilian marvelled at her coolness, having fought Tauroc she wondered if she might be so calm when faced with his threats. “You see,” Mrs Thoreson continued, “I’ve been studying your… situation. Your captors made a mistake. They trapped you, yes. Kept you away certainly. But their error was in not realising that paintings are connected. Your symbol can move and it can become stronger or weaker by design. I think I’ve improved on the system. Instead of trapping you in the painted world, I will keep you in just one painting. Just one.” At that she turned the frame that she had brought with her around and Lilian saw that it was of a small, dark room lined with brick walls. It was an ugly thing, the room was bare with just a bit of straw on the floor. There was no window, no bed, no furniture at all in fact. “You will be placed in here,” said Mrs Thoreson, “and then we will lock you away in the vaults of the Stave Church, and you will never be seen again.”

At the sight of painting Tauroc’s eyes widened and his struggles suddenly increased. He was regaining some of his strength and Lilian had to glance over at Gorakja to enlist his help. The great toad stumbled over and promptly sat on the Demon king.

Tauroc could do nothing but watch then as Mrs Thoreson drew her perfected sigils, placed the painting within one of the chalk circles and began speaking the modified words.

“You insects,” Tauroc spat as he wriggled under Gorakja’s weight, “you worthless mortal fools. I have time on my side, I have time and sure as man is greedy, as sure as I see thee now I shall return.” His face and form began to stretch and melt away. An odd glowing light emanated from the chalk markings on the ground and before the Demon King could insult anyone else he was gone.

The painting had changed. Where there was once an empty room there was now a placid cow in its centre, staring out from the frame with blank and dreadful eyes.

Lilian let herself relax. The night form faded from her body and her mottled, toady skin shifted back to its normal appearance. She hugged Mrs Thoreson tightly. She hugged Gorakja, or rather, she put her open arm around a section of his chin and she thanked him over and over for his help. She spoke with him for a while and she explained how Mr Attorcop would no longer be visiting him every few years.

“I understand, I will miss my friend. But…” the great toad leaned down close to Lilian and dropped his voice to a whisper, “When you’re as old as I am, you learn how to make new friends. I doubt we will see the likes of Crowell Attorcop for many years, but it’s nice to see him in you Lilian Lausanne.” Lilian was not quite sure what he meant by this but she had no time to ask him as some sound and movement from behind her drew her attention to the southern entrance to the square.

A sorry procession were making their way into Benlunar town square. Lead by Ortan the trapper and flanked by the hounds Fritha and Silke, Sage Fenric and his three bodyguards limped towards them with their hands tied behind their backs and their feet bound by short lengths of rope. Lilian flexed her shoulders back when she saw them, her experience with these four had taught to always expect some kind of trouble.

She saw Sage Fenric’s eyes light up when he caught sight of the damage to the surrounding buildings but when they scanned the square and fell upon Lilian and the giant toad beside her the light in them dimmed considerably. When he finally saw the painting of the cow stuck in the blank room the light went out completely. His body slumped and his shoulders fell and Lilian found herself smiling at the sight of all his fight and bluster leaving his body like the soul of one recently dead.

“Fenric,” Lilian stepped towards the group and tried her best to push anger out of her heart. Anger was a useful emotion when it came to inspiring action, but it would do more harm than good when it came to judgement, “you are to leave Benlunar in the morning and journey to Freedos. Once there you will meet my associates in capitol and be placed in the tower to await your trial. A description of you and your colleagues will be sent out across this land and evidence of your deeds will collected and presented at trial. If you are found guilty of wrongdoing, which I believe will be the case, you will carry out your sentence in the tower and be freed once your debt to this world has been paid.”

Fenric’s lip curled at her proclamation, “I knew you were weak the day we met. If it were me I would kill us and be done with it,”

Lilian paused for a moment before replying, “Yes well, I’m not like you.” Then she nodded at Ortan and he pulled on the rope tied around Fenric’s neck and he lead the little chain gang away.

“Well done Lilian,” said Mrs Thoreson, “but do you really trust the courts in Freedos?”

Lilian nodded, “The city has changed a lot these past few months. I’m sure Cromwell would have left capable people in charge. They’ll at least know they have me to deal with if word gets out of their escape.”

Ina Thoreson looked at the teenage girl beside her. A part of her mourned the fact that this young woman had to lead this life of violence and responsibility, another part of her was glad for it. Had it been left to her, she was not sure she would have shown Fenric and his sisters the same mercy.

As the sun began to brighten the sky Gorakja said goodbye and returned to his post amongst the ponds and rivers on the mountain. The citizens of Benlunar were released from their temporary basement dwelling beneath the Stave church. Although the church caves were large they could not fit every citizen of the town and so word was sent out to those hiding in the surrounding mountains and home basements that the fight was over and the town was safe.

Their reaction to being released was mixed, just as Lilian knew it would be. Most were thankful to her and congratulated her on her victory. Some were more resilient, insisting to see Sage Fenric and to learn what had become of the grove and the mural they had worked so diligently on. After a meal and a short rest Lilian decided that it would be best to hold a town meeting so that she could set the record straight and finally explain what had happened without Sage Fenric pouring poison into everyone’s ears. The meeting was held in the Stave Church and it went surprisingly well. The townsfolk obviously had a lot of questions but only a handful seemed to not believe her. It helped that a lot Fenric’s followers had seen Tauroc and understood that something like that could only be released into the world to wreak havoc and destruction. Then they were presented with Fenric’s sword, a thing of obvious malice and Lilian showed them her various cuts and scars that the three sisters had wrought on her during the night.

When every question had been answered it was Doran the storyteller who ended the meeting, “I know I’m a stranger to this place,” he said, “but I think it’s important for me to tell you all that Benlunar has been one of the most welcoming and kind communities I have ever had the pleasure of visiting. I know these past few weeks have been difficult but I don’t think anyone should blame themselves or each other. No one did anything wrong, you simply did a different kind of right. A right that felt good to you at the time. People like Fenric thrive on dividing folk. And if you keep any anger in your hearts then he will have succeeded. Find each other, find your families and your friends and hold them close. Forgive yourselves and forgive each other. And know that this place is special and you should be proud of yourselves for making it so.” Lilian smiled at him and breathed easy after hearing his words. She did not have such a way with people and she was glad to have friends nearby who did.

And so people listened to Doran and they went back to their homes. If their homes had been damaged in the night then they were invited by neighbours to stay on spare beds or arm chairs. Amidst the hubbub Lilian found her parents. She had been talking to Serena and Peter but when they noticed Lilian’s Mum and Dad approaching them the two city kids slid away into the crowd. Nothing was said for quite some time,

“Roux I…” Polly Lausanne started but her daughter interrupted her.

“I’m sorry Mum,” she said, “I’m sorry I didn’t listen I just.”

“No, it’s okay,” Lilian’s Mum replied, “I’m the one who should be sorry. I didn’t want to believe that he was a bad person, because that would have made me a bad person. A bad mother and I just…”

Lilian could no longer bare it and so she rushed forwards and threw her arms around her mother and hugged her so tightly she felt the air leaving her lungs. Polly returned the hug of course and mother and daughter were reunited in floods of tears. Edward Lausanne, ever a man of few words, hugged them both and smiled a private smile.

“I think…” Polly Lausanne spoke into Lilian’s shoulder, “I think I would like to travel this year.”

Lilian broke apart from the hug and wiped the tears from her cheeks, “That’s great!” She said, “The world is big and full of adventure.”

“I know,” agreed her mother, “and I’ve seen so little of it. Perhaps I could join you on one of your journeys.”

Lilian’s smile froze as her mind searched for an answer to this, “Yes,” she said, “We can certainly discuss… that.”

Just then, Lilian felt a tap on her shoulder. She breathed a sigh of relief to turn and see Brother Thomas standing there, ready to interrupt. She smiled at him but then quickly remembered his betrayal during the night.

“I know I’m not you favourite person right now,” he said. Lilian narrowed her eyes, “But please, I will make it up to you. To Emma, to everyone. I promise to dedicate my life to…”

“What is it Brother Thomas?” Lilian interrupted him, seeing that he was here to do more than just apologise.

“One of the sisters, she wants to speak to you.”

Lilian smiled at her parents and then beckoned Serena, Peter and Doran to join her. Brother Thomas took them across town to a small house belonging to one of the town farmers. It had been agreed that each member of Sage Fenric’s team should be kept apart. That way if one had any information then they need not fear the others finding out about the betrayal. It seemed that the tactic had worked as at some point in the early hours of the morning, Hematite had asked to see Lilian.

Lilian was sure to bring her tungsten switch and to have Fritha and her friends by her side. Hematite was found bound and tied to a wardrobe. The room had once belonged to a child which had apparently left home. Wooden toys lay untouched and dusty on surrounding shelves. Hematite looked tired but still have an unnerving amount of fight in her eyes. Lilian sat down on the floor in front of the captured sister and said, “Talk.”

Hematite glanced around nervously, she had not been expecting so many people. After losing an argument in her head she finally turned to Lilian and began to speak.

“He’s not what you think.” Lilian waited for her to continue, “I mean, he’s probably quite close, but there’s more. But you must assure me that if I tell you…”

“Nothing of what you say will be told to Fenric or the others,” Lilian assured her, “you have my word.”

Hematite considered Lilian’s promise and judged it to be good, “He’s just the beginning. He is as much a servant as Tuaroc was. The Demon King did his bidding but all of this was itself an instruction.”

“From who?” Serena cut in.

Hematite grew visibly nervous, “had I not seen you fight,” she directed her words to Lilian, “I would never have believed anyone could face Tauroc and win. But he is a mere pawn when it comes to the greater game. Fenric too, and I suppose me and my sisters. We joined Fenric once we realised that opposing his master was pointless. Some of us more readily than others. We, all of us are caught in a grand scheme. And when the reckoning finally comes all we can hope is that by serving we are spared. That’s why I did what I did. That’s why we convinced towns to ruin themselves. It was a… preparation. And we are not the only ones on this mission.”

Lilian’s heart sank further with every word, “a preparation for what?” She asked.

Hematite’s eyes filled with tears and fear, “for the coming of a great darkness. It communicated its maleficence through dreams, its dark desires through cryptic omens. We were to destroy as many hearts and break as many spirits as we could to make the world more susceptive to its coming.”

Lilian was losing patience, “enough riddles,” she said, “Who is this dark master?”

Hematite’s throat squeezed tight with fear, “We only know it as, The Ceaseless.”