The 9th Fortress

He was still alive — still — even as leather like skin seemed to knit itself over a new skeleton. Throughout this transformation was the man's constant writhing, the grinding of parts and the generous lashings of red blood and black yuck. 'Uh!' he spat. 'Grauwhl…'

The man's guttural sounds eventually cleared to screams, screams replaced by a huskier growl until at last, the ear-bursting bane of the wolf.

'Magnificent!' the wizard cheered.

The furious monster attacked its cage with teeth and claws, causing even the giant, Grutas, to retreat.

'Do not concern yourself, Grutas!' said Scarfell, laughing. 'He cannot escape his nightmare.'

The sick show finally over, a delighted Scarfell led the way out of the cellblock. '’til the next full moon!' he added, closing the door behind him.

Crossing his legs together again, a solemn faced Kat attempted to meditate his mind from the ravings of the wolf, and from the sorry state in which he found himself.

***

Bruised and bloodied, I was strapped to a lone post in the centre of the fort, arms numb and raised above my head. Dry rope cut into my wrists and my back burned as it pressed straight against a post. The wolf's cries came from somewhere deep inside the temple, and I pitied the cursed soul inside it.

Bogs would occasionally pass me here, leaving harsh mementos. I ignored the pain of their punches and kicks, and tried using my time here to gather any intelligence I could. A pack of three bogs always patrolled the fort, conversing in an elemental language of grunts and snorts. These three security guards would briefly patrol the perimeter; sit for an hour or so before being replaced by another disinterested few. They were a lazy species, forever hungry and like erratic teenagers in behaviour. Never once did they patrol the fort completely, only those areas that took their fancy at the time. After a meal of squeaking, cat sized creatures, most of the two hundred plus pig army disappeared into shabby huts and remained there all night long; only the three guards enjoyed the sound of the wolf outside the temple door, with frenzied leaps and primal butting of heads

***

Some time later, dreams and sleep were slapped from my face.

'Open your eyes Fox,' he whispered. 'Let me see you.'

Dusk shone through my waking eyelids before another slap sent my face to the other side of the post. Red drool ran from my bottom lip as Scarfell raised my chin to meet his wrinkled face and lone, bloodshot eye. He looked confused. There was nothing about me that held any unique quality, no mythical Kat like status or magical prowess — there was just a man. 'I want to kill you,' he said, his breath hot at my neck. 'Nothing would please me more.'

He removed his hand from my chin, allowing my face to fall. He then caressed an index finger over his mouth — to the sore I gave him on the Macro peaks. That finger circled his lips, and then his whole hand went over the patch covering his left eye.

'I'm waiting,' I mumbled, stretched tight. 'Are you ready to kill me?'

'Unfortunately,' he replied, his hand trembling, 'someone else has reserved that pleasure. A necessary compromise, even the most powerful have to make accommodations.'

'You're no God,' I smirked, summoning all of my stupid courage. 'You’re not immortal either… I know, and one day your withered old body will disappear, with no compromises or magic to save your ass. You'll end up a maggot in your own bogs breakfast!' I chuckled, while Scarfell snatched another hold of my chin.

'And you will die on this post, never to see the 9th Fortress! Can you even fathom how impossible a notion that was? What arrogance to attempt it! What ego!'

He let my head drop again then moved around the post, going over my front and back with a fingernail scratching my flesh. 'Not even half way there, and already in some decay.'

'What do you want?' I asked; 'if not to kill me?'

'You took my eye — my eye!' he exclaimed, inhaling and exhaling a cauldron of frustration. 'And if I can't kill a pathetic nothing like you… then I am taking what's owed!'

With a flick of his wrist, Scarfell removed a knife from his belt — a dirty object that would struggle to cut rough paper. He pressed himself and the blade to my cheek, and I gasped, shutting my eyes to its blunt tip. 'Help me Missy! Newton! Bludgeon! Kat! Help me!'

Scarfell smiled, teasing his blade over my perspiring face. 'It's fine,' he whispered. 'I do not want your eye. No. Not today at least.'

Sceptically, I peeked a look and was relieved to see the blade at his thigh. 'You know what?' he abruptly added; 'I've changed my mind!'

Static filled my vision as my skull was invaded — connections permanently cut from my brain. His vigorous carving sent the juice of my eye slipping down my face, and my high-pitched scream was as horrific as any wolf's.

***

Apart from the sobbing creature across from Kat's cell, there was peace inside the block. The small window let in the early morning to reveal enough of Harmony's unusual form. Finally now, Kat could see what made her so special, so unique to deserve a place in Scarfell's zoo. The bulk of Harmony's cage was taken up by a pair of white wings attached to her back, but pressed together with a clumsy bronze clasp biting them down the middle. 'Can't use them,' she shrugged with an empty smile.

'Did the wizard do this?' Kat asked.

'No. I did. I was banished from Heaven,' she started, hiding her face; 'an exile here until my return to the blessed is permitted. It is a… long story samurai, and something I'd rather not discuss.'

Kat left the subject alone to inspect other cages here. There was a grumpy ape creature covered in blue needle like hair; there was also a confusing looking sphinx with a rams head, the body of a lion and a tiny pair of wings that couldn't possibly lift its weight. There was a gargoyle, three feet tall, the colour of mud and picking fingers into its crotch. There was a coiled up snake with eyes the size of golf balls, and an unknown meal still struggling inside its belly; there was the naked man restored in bodily flesh and unconscious under the window; and lastly, the sobbing creature — another woman with wings, but a bag covered her head and her hands where shackled behind her back.

'Why do you cry?' Kat asked her, only to be ignored. 'Woman! Why do you cry?'

'She is a Gorgon,' said Harmony. 'One glance into her eyes will set you to stone. They are extremely rare creatures; she may even be the last of her kind.'

Hearing their comments, the Gorgon lowered her bagged head further. 'Let her cry,' said Harmony. 'Let her be.'

The exiled angel fussed her wings comfortable whilst Kat squinted at her sullen face. 'What have you to gain for leading us to Hells mouth?' he asked. 'What did the scientist offer you?'

'My wings,' she returned, clanging her clasp off the bars. 'I have a mark on my soul too, Kat. The scientist came to me, promised that if I do this one thing for him then I would be redeemed in the eyes of my Lord. Sin forgiven, my rightful place in the Heavens restored. How could I refuse?'

Her voice coursed with regret. Heaven was a long way away, and shameful tears fell like wet glass from her bluest eyes.

'I do not fault you for our capture,' said Kat, as sincere as a killer could.

18. Ceremony

Blood clotted like a mask over the upper section of my face, leaving me little idea if it were night or day behind it. An excruciating jolt of electricity hit me between the eyes every few seconds, and the rest of my body reacted with spasms against the post. What I wanted, what I desperately needed were assurances that Scarfell had only removed the one eye.

'Missy?' I mumbled, but my hazy mind couldn't concentrate enough to contact her. The cold started to bite too, and remaining senses becoming sharper, I heard a careful crunching of approaching footsteps. 'Who's there?'