A Change In The Weather

Chapter 13: Resurrection

The gargoyle rested down in the confines of the cold dark deep, illuminated by nothing more than a circle of candles, each casting flickering sprites onto the cavern walls that gleefully danced and leapt in the draught of the stone hallway.

Surrounding the circle stood the Brotherhood of the Fiery Brand – each dressed in black robes.

Gideon the undertaker spoke, with a voice tinged with regret.

‘The books we had been looking for were within my grasp. With my own eyes I saw the location, the map, the notes and more. And then, just as I entered the cover of the trees, the books burst from the sack as if they were alive and returned to the windmill. I would have gone back but Cornelius’ apprentice returned.’

There was a pause, before Godfrey, the mayor of Blakeby, replied.

‘Ah, it would seem that he used a glyph of return. It would seem that the old man is more protected than we originally gave him credit for. His powers have no doubt increased since last we met.’

Gideon hung his head slightly.

‘Also… later in the wood we were surprised by someone who was hiding in the undergrowth.’ he confessed. ‘They saw us, and despite my actions, the bag was dropped and its contents escaped.’

Godfrey smashed a fist into the cavern wall in anger.

‘More failure!’ he spat. ‘Did you recognise them? More importantly, did they recognise you? I trust you didn’t let them get very far?’

‘No, it was too dark. He was hidden too well.’ hissed Gideon. ‘Toadflax chased him into the deep wood. I didn’t care much for his chances.’

‘He’s probably dead.’ he added as an afterthought.

‘The exchange could have brought us valuable information!’, Godfrey growled. ‘Faeries are notorious at keeping secrets. Trying to gain some insights from one of them might have been fruitful in revealing the resting place of the fire drake.’

Godfrey calmed down and fiddled with the gold ring on his finger.

‘We can only hope that the intruder was eliminated. Still, do not allow this small setback to affect us. As soon as this ceremony is over, we will have the means to produce the second element. Even if Hillary had a clue – and there is no evidence to suggest that he does - there is no way he could stop us… But because the fire drake egg continues to elude us we must therefore open up a different path of investigation. Have no fear, the way will become apparent.’

There was a pause.

‘I suggest we all try a different tactic, something more direct.’

He cracked his fingers and gestured to the cockatrice.

‘Can you believe that fate brought us to this village? After all these centuries of searching for a cure it delivered our salvation. The fire drake, the cockatrice, the wyvern. All were here waiting for us it seemed. That is not coincidence. It would seem that we are justified in our course of action. The way of Fate - of the Wyrd - has revealed itself to us. Let no-one come between us, disrupt us, or stand in our way.’

He sighed.

‘Now come brethren, let us concentrate on the matter at hand…’

* * * *

The figures slowly spread out, taking up positions around the statue.

A low murmur filled the room as the figures started to concentrate, focusing their ancient energy towards the object frozen in stone before them.

The gargoyle was grotesque, bearing the elements of a cock, a bat, a lizard and an eagle contorted into some bizarre monstrosity – a total aberration of nature.

The chant reached a crescendo, and then there was nothing, nothing but an uneasy silence that filled the chamber as one by one each of the candles snuffed themselves out until none remained.

A pistol-like crack shattered the silence as the statue started to pop, crumble and smoke. Huge splits appeared down the sides, ripping the stone from top to tail. Crackles of energy - like miniature lightning - cascaded down the stone as it fell apart, arcing to the floor in rivulets of energy that dissolved into nothing, until there in the midst of the rubble, something that was not previously alive, something that was an impossibility of nature, shook its head and flapped its bat-like wings.

Its terrible bird-like eyes observed the hooded figures with suspicion. And then - almost as if it had been waiting to shout it out to the world since it was imprisoned in stone - it opened a toothed beak and let out a dreadful, sickening, centuries-old scream that confirmed its new masters.

The four hooded figures each in turn averted their gazes, immediately looking to the ground.

Something ancient and altogether unspeakable had just been re-born…

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