William tucked the tiny key, which looked as if it had been made from bone, back beneath his shirt, and set off in the direction of the place they called the outer-rim, the sling full of inferno berries that his father had left for him, thrown over his shoulder. The others followed and Zach couldn’t help but notice that since the battle at the Prison of Eternal Despair, William had finally taken the lead.
They walked through the night as the moon hung high above them, lighting their way. The pale, white light cast long shadows before them. Neanna blinked back and forth as if in a sudden playful mood. One moment she would be next to Zach, brushing so close to him that he could have taken her by the hand. Then she would be gone again in a spray of shadows, just to reappear ahead of him next to William, who walked alone. Zach liked it when Neanna was close, and he thought back to the embrace they had shared in the cave just before reaching the Prison of Eternal Despair. He had wondered back then if they weren’t becoming close in some way, but since that time, she had kept her distance. Zach often caught her looking at him, but was it the other way around? Had Neanna caught him looking at her? If Zach were to be honest, he did often find himself snatching a quick glimpse at her from the corner of his eye. He tried not to make it obvious, but he couldn’t help himself. Neanna Cera was hot and he couldn’t deny that. Even as a vampire back in Earth, all fangs and wings, she had been stunning to look at. Vampire of Slath, her eyes were the clearest of blues, and the dash of pink freckles that covered the bridge of her nose and cheeks gave her pale skin a warm and friendly glow. But it was her hair which Zach liked the most. It was thick and black – the colour of raven’s wings – and it shone so bright, that sometimes he had to shut his eyes against the glare. Zach knew that Neanna was like no other girl he had ever met. Not just because she was a vampire – Slath – but she was feisty. She had guts and courage and was more than a match for anyone or anything. Zach knew that his sister could be strong-willed and fiery at times, but Neanna had a ruthlessness about her, too. And although Zach didn’t really understand why, he liked that about her.
As Zach watched Neanna blink back and forth around them, he thought of his sister. Not knowing that just like him, Anna was in Endra, he pictured her as he last remembered seeing her: fragile looking and near death, lying in bed at his uncle’s remote cottage in Cornwall. And what of his uncle, Fandel? Zach wondered. He now knew that his uncle Fandel was the darkman’s reflection – a reflection of the sorcerer who was named Throat. The sorcerer William had seen in the box, striding out of the desert and taking the Queen of Endra prisoner in her tower, the Splinter. Zach knew that this Queen and his sister, Anna, were linked just like Throat and his Uncle Fandel. But unlike Throat and Fandel, both the Queen and Anna were dying. Throat needed both of them dead if he was to take the Heart of Endra from the box that he had suspended over the Rusty Volcano, in the hopes that the searing heat would break open the box and release the heart, which lay inside.
But there was a key. The key, which William’s grandfather and father had made. And William had it. Zach knew that this put them all in great danger. He guessed that Throat would know by now that his armies had been defeated at the prison, and once again he would have his agents searching for them. Zach knew that he had to get the key to the box and then the box to his sister, before he and his friends were caught, or his sister died in bed in his uncle’s cottage.
Pulling the collar of his coat about his neck, Zach lent into the wind and sand that billowed about him and quickened his step.
They walked through the night, and just when Zach knew that the sun was only an hour or so away and shelter would be needed for Neanna, the last shafts of pale moonlight reflected back off something lying in the sand ahead of them.
William had seen it too, and pointing ahead, he said in his deep, booming voice, “Can you see that?”
“Yes,” Zach said, his fingers twitching over the crossbows that hung in the holsters strapped to his thighs.
Sensing the approaching dawn and not wanting to be trapped out in the light, Neanna looked at her friends and said, “I’ll check it out.”
“No, wait!” Zach called after her, his crossbows now drawn.
But Neanna had blinked away at speed, reappearing in the distance next to whatever it was that was glinting in the moonlight.
William dropped onto all fours and bounded after her.
“That girl needs to slow down,” Bom huffed from beneath his overgrown beard.
Zach could see the fear in Bom’s eyes, the same fear he had seen during the battle at the prison. “C’mon,” Zach coaxed, as he made after his friends.
With Bom huffing and puffing at his heels, Zach joined Neanna and William. With his eyes burning behind his thick glasses, which jutted from his face like two telescopes, William looked down and said, “It looks like a man.”
Zach followed his gaze, his crossbows trained on the figure that lay face-down in the sand.
“How do you know it’s a man?” Neanna breathed, her long, black hair billowing back in the wind.
“It’s too big to be a woman,” Bom snapped.
“You’re small – but you’re a man, ain’t ya?” William grinned, his pointed teeth on show.
Bom grunted a reply which none of them could understand. Holstering his crossbows, Zach hunkered down in the sand to take a closer look at the body. It was dressed in what looked like some kind of flight suit – something a jet pilot might wear, Zach thought. Its hair was jet-black and covered in sand. It appeared to Zach that the figure had been laying out in the desert for some time. With a hand that trembled, Zach reached out and took hold of the flight suit. In his mind, he pictured turning the body over to find a decayed and skeletal-looking face staring back at him.
With his friends peering over his shoulder, Zach took a deep breath and rolled the figure over. At first glance, it appeared to be a male – human - but as Zach took another look, he could see that it wasn’t. The texture of its skin looked pearly, like a waxwork model or one of those mannequins you see in shop windows. Zach had a fleeting memory of his parents taking him and his sister to Madame Tussauds in London as a child. And however much his mum and dad had tried to convince him that he really was having his picture taken next to David Beckham, he knew it wasn’t really him – because that David Beckham was lifeless – it was his eyes, they just looked dead. And so did the eyes of the man who now lay looking back at him from the desert floor.
“He looks dead,” Zach whispered.
“Good,” Bom sighed aloud, trying to hide his relief.
“He looks dead,” Zach said again. “But I don’t think he is.”
“What do you mean?” Neanna asked, stepping closer to get a better look.
“Look at his clothes and hair, they’re covered in dust and dirt,” Zach started to explain. “He looks like he has been lying out here for years.”
“So?” William asked.
“But his skin – his flesh – would have decomposed, wouldn’t it?” Zach said, almost as if he were thinking aloud. “But it hasn’t.”
“Let me have a look,” William said, taking Zach’s hand from the corner of the man’s flight suit.
As Zach let go, the body rolled face-first back into the sand again.
“Hey, look at this, will ya?” William suddenly howled.
“Look at what?” Bom asked nervously.
“This switch,” William breathed.
“Say what?” Neanna said, taking her sling of inferno berries from her shoulder and kneeling next to Zach in the sand.
William tilted the man’s head forward and lifted the hair at the nape of his neck to reveal a small, black switch. It protruded from the back of the man’s neck like a light switch. With his long, dirty fingernails poised over the switch, William glanced up at the others and said, “Shall I?”
“No!” Bom grunted and stepped away.
Zach and Neanna looked at William, neither of them wanting to make a decision either way, both scared, but curious, to find out what would happen if William flipped the switch.
William looked back down at the lifeless form, and then drawing a deep breath, he took hold of the little black switch and flipped it to the right.
Nothing.
Taking hold of the switch again, he repeatedly snapped it on and off. Then, suddenly, a series of sparks leapt from the switch and the figure twitched violently in the sand. The four of them took a step back, as the figure became taut, then relaxed again.
“What the...” Zach gasped, his crossbows in his hands again.
“I think we should just go,” Bom insisted. “The sun will be up soon and...”
“No, wait,” William barked.
The man – if that’s what it was – rolled over, his dead, black eyes staring up into the night. Then suddenly he lurched into life, sitting bolt upright in the sand and dust. He looked blankly at Zach, his eyes two black balls, there were no whites to them. Then the man started to babble, his voice sounding synthetic, mechanical, and unnatural, like a kid talking through a voice-changing toy.
“…distress signal sent…beacon hailing on all frequencies…” He then stopped mid-sentence, looked at Zach and his friends and said, “Who are you?”
Without warning, Neanna blinked and reappeared behind the man who now sat staring back at us. With a quick swipe of her hand, she flipped the switch at the base of the man’s neck and he slumped forward, his chin resting against his chest.
“What did you do that for?” Zach gasped.
“He’s like, really creepy – don’t you think?” Neanna said.
“I’m glad she turned that thing off,” Bom blustered.
“Don’t you have any backbone?” William shot at him.
“It isn’t natural,” Bom whispered back.
“What isn’t?” William said, brandishing his broken teeth and claws.
“Turn him back on,” Zach said to Neanna.