As the process continued, Assandra started to feel the surging power grow exponentially. If it had felt momentarily euphoric before, the sensation now was indescribable.

  She was so lost in what she was doing that Assandra was only faintly aware of shouting coming from across the deck.

  Max fought desperately against his bonds, but knew it was futile. The thought of being dragged with the others into that amalgamation of human bodies and inky, gelatinous sludge terrified him. Thankfully, he was on the edge of the prisoner group, which bought him some time.

  Or perhaps it just prolonged his torturous wait.

  He heard a commotion coming from behind and rolled himself over. Some of the men that had been sent down below deck were now spilling out of the doorway in a panic. Screams echoed out from below.

  ‘One of them is free!’ the man at the front shouted. Soon after, a shrieking monstrosity crawled free of the doghouse as well.

  It scuttled forward on thin limbs: two protruding from its shoulders, and two more acting as squat, thin legs at its base. The limbs were all connected by a thin membrane of skin, forming wings. The creature was of human size and had a torso similar to a woman—ignoring the bat-like wings. Its head was also vaguely human, were it not for the wide, gaping mouth that reached up to its cheeks. Inside were circular rows of sharp teeth and a tentacle-like tongue that protruded free. The angular, vampiric face of the monster was mostly covered with long, greasy hair.

  An aswang, Max realised. He had never seen one in the flesh before, as the female creatures hailed from the Philippines; there hadn’t been many cases in Britain.

  The pale skin of the aswang was illuminated by the torches around the deck of the ship. Fresh, glistening blood coated its mouth and dripped from its chin, mixing with its saliva, and Max could just make out chunks of flesh wedged in between its teeth. The aswang continued to crawl forward, then stretched out its wings. However, Max saw that the veiny membrane was punctured in many places. The wounds looked old—no doubt done to prevent flight. The aswang flapped its wings quickly and it rose off the ground a little, where it hovered clumsily for a brief time before falling back down to the deck.

  ‘Kill it!’ the Crimson Lord yelled.

  Assandra was pulled from her focus. Something was happening, and the frantic noise around her finally pierced through her protective cloud of concentration like a shard of glass. She stumbled with the words. However, she then immediately felt her father move close to her.

  He spoke into her ear in urgent whispers. ‘Do not stop,’ he urged her. ‘Ignore what is happening. If the ritual falters now, then the spawn will be wasted. Keep going. Concentrate!’

  Assandra tried to block everything out again and continue, letting herself again be consumed by the incantations.

  Jack emerged from the doorway of the enclosure and snuck forward as the other men fought against the creature he’d released. After slightly loosening the creature’s ropes, it had wormed itself completely free just as the approaching men reached the bottom of the stairs. It had then leapt up and quickly ripped the first man’s face from his skull with its monstrous mouth. It then chased the others back upstairs, leaving the way clear for Jack to escape from the hold as well.

  A battle raged out on the deck of the ship, with the men on deck fighting against the creature—their focus was solely on it as it leapt on one of them and began to rip at his throat. That gave Jack the chance to run around to the rowing boat and take cover behind it.

  He peeked over the small boat and saw that Max was trying to squirm away from the writhing black mass that was beginning to rise up, with its victims trapped within its form. Jack was instantly reminded of the living monolith he’d seen at Dalby Forest.

  Assandra had her arms outstretched and her eyes were completely white. Jack couldn’t help but feel a tinge of disappointment as the wytch formed the new monolith. She looked lost in what she was doing. The man in red and the person he assumed to be Skivington were both standing next to her.

  The men that were fighting the creature all bore weapons: machetes, scythes, clubs, knives, and other handheld blades. Bull even wielded a large broadsword. They had numbers on their side, yet the creature was putting up a valiant fight. Despite its damaged wings, it was able to move quickly and take sudden, vicious bites out of anyone who drew near, plucking free a calf muscle or taking a chunk of arm flesh before using its wings to pull itself awkwardly backwards and out of attack range. It soon retreated and moved the fight over to the far side of the ship, away from Jack, and the men tried to encircle it.

  Jack looked back at the living monolith that was still forming. Unlike the one he had seen at Dalby, this one had less rigidity to its shape. Whereas the other had been a tall, rectangular block, this one looked more like an unrefined mound of bodies intertwined with the black matter. Another of the prisoners was dragged screaming inside its mass by dark tendrils which had slithered out of the substance.

  Max and one other prisoner were the only ones yet to be fused.

  Jack had no weapons other than the small knife, which was tucked into his pocket. It would be of little use against Assandra. I’m never going to be able to stop this. However, if luck was on his side, Jack thought he might just be able to save the Shadowhand.

  With the winged creature taking up the attention of most men on deck, Jack decided to act. Max wasn’t too far away from him now, though he knew he would be seen by the men on either side of Assandra—the wytch herself seemed oblivious to what was happening around her.

  Jack ran forward.

  ‘There!’ he heard Skivington yell while pointing. Jack ignored it and sprinted over to Max, who looked up at him.

  ‘You should have run when you had—’

  ‘Shut up,’ Jack said, grabbing hold of the restraints that held the Shadowhand's wrists. He then heaved and scrambled backwards, pulling Max with him. Max let out a cry of pain as he was dragged across the deck and back to cover.

  ‘Behind the boat!’ Skivington cried. Jack drew out his knife and got to work on the ropes.

  ‘I hope you have a plan,’ Max said when Jack finished cutting away the bonds on his wrists.

  ‘Afraid not,’ Jack said and began to work on Max’s ankles.

  Max rubbed at his wrists, which were burned and bruised from the ropes. ‘Then you should have done as I instructed,’ Max said. ‘Now we’re both going to die.’

  ‘We could jump,’ Jack said as he finished with the last of the restraints. He could still hear the screeching monster and the cries of the men as they fought. Despite Skivington pointing out Jack’s position, no one had approached them yet.

  ‘Jump?’ Max asked.

  ‘And swim back to shore.’

  ‘That’s a long swim,’ Max stated.

  ‘Better than dying up here,’ Jack argued. Then he looked to the rowboat beside him. ‘Or we could use this. If you help me throw it overboard, we might be able to get away.’

  Max looked at the small vessel. ‘Perhaps,’ he admitted. ‘But first, I think we need to stop Assandra. You do realise what she is doing?’

  ‘I do,’ Jack said. ‘It seems like she’s going down the same path as her sister.’

  ‘Which is… unfortunate,’ Max said.

  ‘What changed for her?’ Jack asked. ‘At Dalby, she insisted we destroy the monolith.’

  Max peeked up over the top of the boat and pointed at the figure cloaked in red. ‘Him,’ Max said. ‘I think he swayed her somehow.’

  ‘Who is he?’

  ‘The Crimson Lord. Though I don’t know what that means, exactly. It isn’t someone I’m familiar with.’

  ‘Do you think he’s dangerous?’ Jack asked.

  ‘Quite possibly. He certainly knows more than he should.’

  ‘Do we kill him?’

  Max paused. ‘I would like to know more about him and where his knowledge comes from… but I don’t think we are in a position to take a prisoner. Killing him might be our only option.’

  ‘And Assandra?’ Jack asked.

  Both men looked at her as she continued to work, arms outstretched, eyes white, completely lost in what she was doing. The mound of bodies and sludge continued to rise.

  ‘Her too,’ he replied.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  Assandra could feel the screams for mercy from those trapped within the monolith she was moulding to her will. However, those cries weren’t verbal, as the bodies had grown still—yet they came through to Assandra’s mind.

  She continued with the words, having moved on to the second section of the incantation, which involved shaping the monolith now that all the bodies around it had been collected. The connection she felt to the organic structure was strong.

  Everything else around her, however, was lost in a haze. None of it mattered to her. All that was important was the ritual. As she proceeded, she became aware of something in the darkest recesses of her mind. It was like another consciousness, one that seemed infinite, and it had taken notice.

  Eventually, even though she continued to repeat the words over and over, the connection she felt with the gelatinous structure began to fade—and a few minutes later it stopped responding to her at all, seemingly settling into its final shape. It still resembled a tall mound, about eight feet in height, and was thinner at the top and fatter at the bottom, where most of the bodies were packed together. Assandra felt a hand on her shoulder.

  ‘Is it done?’ her father asked.

  She let her body relax, then an immediate and overwhelming fatigue hit her. She was dripping with sweat and panting heavily.

  ‘It… it won’t respond anymore,’ she said through laboured breaths.

  ‘Then it is finished,’ he said.

  The sound of something happening farther out on deck drew her attention. She saw Skivington’s men fighting with a creature she hadn’t even realised was there. ‘What’s going on?’

  ‘Ignore it,’ Vern said. ‘The others will take care of it. But it seems your friend who killed Cora is alive and well.’

  Her father then pointed over to the small rowboat on deck. Behind it, Assandra saw Max and… Jack. ‘He’s here?’

  ‘He saved the other one,’ Skivington said. ‘We need to do something about them, and quickly.’

  Assandra again looked at the rest of the men. Three of them lay dead on the deck, with chunks of flesh torn from their bodies, and one had their throat completely ripped out. However, the monster they fought looked weak, and one of its wings looked to have been hacked almost completely off—it was now hanging from its body by a few strands of membrane. But with everyone fighting against the creature, there was no one to handle Jack and Max.

  ‘Ignore them for now,’ Vern told Skivington. ‘Until the other men are clear.’

  ‘But what if they—’

  ‘Feel free to go and kill them yourself, Webster,’ Vern snapped. ‘But we must protect the monolith.’

  ‘The wytch can kill them!’ Skivington shouted back. Assandra picked up on the derogatory tone when he’d mentioned her.

  ‘And destroy the ship?’ Vern asked. ‘Do you want us to sink? Come to your senses!’

  ‘We can’t just leave them!’

  ‘They have nowhere to run to,’ Vern argued. ‘Let them hide and cower. They won’t dare attack—they know what Assandra is capable of. Those two are as doomed as the others in the monolith. They just managed to buy themselves a little more time.’

  Assandra was getting tired of listening to the two men talk about her like she wasn’t even present. Vern turned to her. ‘You aren’t finished, my dear,’ he said. ‘The monolith is as ready as you can make it, so now it is time to make contact.’

  ‘How will it work?’ she asked.

  ‘The monolith uses the life-force of the spawn, as well as those men trapped within the structure, to create a conduit to the entity. You now need to choose one of the bodies as a focal point. Touch it… and then reach out with your mind.’

  ‘That isn’t a lot of direction,’ Assandra said. ‘How do I reach out with my mind?’

  ‘There isn’t much I can tell you about that part,’ Vern said. ‘I don’t have your power. It’s the same way I couldn’t tell you how to throw fire from your hands, either. From what I understand from Cora, it didn’t take much on her part. If the entity out there takes an interest, it will make the connection. You just have to try to channel it. That isn’t easy. You saw what happened to the man at Dalby who touched the monolith. His mind was instantly scrambled. But you have a very specific power, like your sister. It’s in your blood. You can withstand whatever happens.’

  Assandra looked at the haphazard organic structure she had created. Then she glanced back over to the rowboat. She knew Jack and Max had to die now. There was no other way. The thought did sadden her, as those two had at least treated her like a human being. But they were still aligned with the people who wanted to subjugate Assandra; by following the orders of those people, both men had brought on themselves what was to come.

  ‘I’m ready,’ she said. She walked close to the monolith and squatted down, looking into the vacant eyes of one of the men at its base. His mouth hung open in an endless, silent scream. Assandra slowly reached her hands out and touched her fingers to his temples.

  Assandra was suddenly alone. She was formless and isolated in a sea of black, hovering in the centre of an empty, infinite darkness.

  No… it wasn’t empty. She just couldn’t see. Her eyes were not open. Not truly.

  Something incomprehensible and vast swam in the void around her. A leviathan. While she couldn’t see it, she could sense it. And it could sense her. She was like an ant scurrying close to it while drawing its tired, indifferent attention.

  Assandra!

  It was a voice. Not from the entity there with her. From somewhere else. From outside the void. She ignored it. Instead, she concentrated and tried to reach out.

  That thought filled her with fear. The awe and insignificance she felt was absolute. She was a tiny mote in an ocean of darkness. The great, slumbering thing could snuff her out without even realising it. The thing seemed at once ancient yet only a child itself.

  Or, rather, something akin to a child.

  She concentrated. In response, Assandra picked up on something: a notion of faint annoyance coming back. There was a desire for her to leave. To forget.

  Assandra!

  It was the voice again. A familiar one. It echoed in her mind. Vernon.

  Go away, she thought to herself.

  Ask it! her father continued. Ask it if we can ascend! Can we shed what we are and become more?

  Then, the impression of annoyance from the entity changed in an instant. Everything became red. It had heard her father’s words.

  Anger. Fury. Disdain that ones so low could ever think they were worthy.

  Then, Assandra realised her sister and father hadn’t previously been speaking with the entity—they’d only infuriated it and refused to leave it alone.

  Something was coming, it told her. An emissary. Something born from and created by the great god, sent to manifest its fury.

  Assandra fell back onto the deck. She felt hands on her. It was Vern, holding her tightly.

  ‘Stop screaming!’ he ordered—Assandra didn’t realise she had been.

  ‘We need to leave!’ she shouted. ‘We need to… something’s coming!’

  ‘Did you ask the question?’ Vern asked, ignoring her. ‘Did it tell you what we need to do…’

  He trailed off as the ship lurched violently. The sea beneath them rolled and swelled. Vern fell to his back; Skivington lost his balance and dropped to the floor as well. Assandra saw that the other men on deck had finally killed the creature and it now lay dead. But they, too, stumbled and fell when the ship continued to sway on the great waves that were forming.

  ‘What’s happening?’ Skivington cried out.

  ‘It’s coming,’ Assandra shouted back. ‘The emissary!’

  Assandra looked to her side, past the bulwark of the ship, to see the waves of the sea part. A gigantic abomination rose up.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  ‘What in God’s name is that?’ Jack uttered as the monstrous creature rose up from the sea and revealed more of its hideous form, which was illuminated by the clear moonlight of the night sky.

  Terror gripped him. His mind struggled to make sense of the huge, alien thing—it resembled nothing he had ever seen before.

  Max stared up at the entity in awe as well. He said nothing.

  An immense, booming sound echoed through the air, like a titanic roar so deep it made Jack’s body reverberate.

  The exposed portion of the great entity towered over the deck, reaching around twenty-five feet in height. Jack couldn’t be certain if its body continued all the way down to the seabed, or if it was floating in the water. However, what he could see of the creature horrified him.

  It had six thick legs, all of which protruded from the sides of a huge torso, three on either side. The legs initially rose upwards from the body they were attached to, before bending sharply at a joint and running down into the sea, like massive spider-legs. There were patches of long, wet hair hanging from the limbs.

  The hulking, uneven body had no defined shape to it, though the lower section that disappeared beneath the water was thinner, and it was slightly more bulbous at the top. It was somewhat difficult to tell against the dark sky but Jack saw that the tough-looking skin of the monster was black, or dark grey, and was littered with massive bumps and craters. In addition, there were scores of immense, sickly green, fleshy orbs on the torso, all of different sizes. Jack wondered if they were eyes of some kind, but he could see no pupil or iris to break up the cloudy green expanse of the surfaces.

 

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