high it went. Kord’s back was too me, his sunglasses pushed to the top of his head.
He stiffened. “Yes. Right there, did you see it?”
I could barely see my hand if I held it up in front of me. All that was up there was blackness.
“They’re on that ledge. We’ll have to climb.”
I grabbed his arm before he could leave me behind. “We have to wait until morning. We can’t see further than a few feet.”
“They could be gone in the morning.”
He was straining against my grip, not pulling away, but tense with the desire to do so. “Are you even sure they’re up there? It sounds like the screams were coming from up ahead.”
“The sound must be bouncing around. They’re up there. Right there, did you see that?”
“I don’t see anything.”
He turned to me, and I jolted backwards a step. The glow in his irises had always been a discomfiting sight, but in the dark it was more pronounced…frightening, even. “I can see them because of these.” He pointed to his eyes. “I can see things you can’t.”
I swallowed and resisted taking another step backwards. “Can you see the rock face? Because if you can’t, then we should wait until morning.”
He glanced back at the rock, then to me, then back again. Then he shocked me further by throwing his head back and shouting, “Banshees! Come down and hear me!”
He stepped back and put his arm around my shoulders, drawing me to his side. I found myself staring up at the rock as though I could possibly see what was going on. “Are they coming?” I asked in a whisper.
“One of them.” He dropped the glasses back over his eyes.
He held me tightly. I wasn’t sure if it was out of fear, or out of concern for my safety. At last I saw movement. It was black on black, but there was enough light to see a figure crawling down the wall. It appeared to be crawling down head first. It crawled onto the ground and rose to its feet right in front of us. The hood of its cloak fell back to reveal a heinous, female face with black lips and black, empty eyes. It opened its mouth an unnatural width and screamed.
I couldn’t help turning into Kord’s chest and covering my ears with my hands. He wrapped both arms around me. That scream might not have the power to do physical harm, but it struck the terror of death into my soul. That fear you get when there’s a close call—you almost fell off a cliff, you almost got in a car wreck—that momentary fear was what those screams evoked, and it lingered long after the scream ceased. I felt Kord breathing fast and hard, his body trembling lightly against mine.
“We’re looking for Father Death,” Kord said in an impossibly strong voice.
The banshee screamed again. This time Kord and I fell to our knees. I thought my heart might pound so hard it would burst and I’d truly die, right there in the underworld. Kord had let go of me, both of us hunkered down and covering our ears with our hands.
When at last the scream ended, Kord struggled to his feet. I followed suit, my legs weak, my head dizzy with fear. Kord pushed his glasses back up on his head. The banshee’s mouth was open in preparation for another scream, but when it looked into Kord’s glowing eyes, it stopped. It closed its mouth and cocked its head.
“Do you know where Father Death is?” Kord asked again.
The banshee stepped closer to him, tipping its head from one side to the other, studying him. Kord stood bravely, letting it get close. It reached out with long, knobby fingers and touched his face. If he shivered in terror, he kept it from showing.
With a hiss, the banshee withdrew.
And then she started to sing.
The song wasn’t beautiful, but it had a power to it. I watched Kord and saw his body go stiff and rigid. I reached out to touch him. For a moment, I noticed how his muscles vibrated with tension. And then my hand touched the flesh of his forearm and I was transported.
The song wove a story. Kord and I were mere
Maggie Brendan
Barbara O'Connor
Jan Washburn
Terri Blackstock
Norah Simone
Barry Kemp
G.P. Taylor
Alan Cumyn
Linda Barnes
Lisa Jackson