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  SORROW’S FALL

  Helen Allan

  Copyright © Helen Allan, 2018

  Published: 2018

  Hell West Press

  ISBN: Paperback Edition: 9780648455950

  All rights reserved.

  The right of Helen Allan to be identified as the author of this Work has been asserted by her in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

  This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in retrieval system, copied in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise transmitted without written permission from the publisher. You must not circulate this book in any format.

  Cover art by Mario Wibisono

  SORROW’S FALL

  Books by Helen Allan

  When sorrows come, they come not single spies, but in battalions.

  PREFACE

  1

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  5

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  7

  8

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  10

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  14

  Dear Readers,

  For Alastair

  BOOKS BY HELEN ALLAN

  Scarab: Falling Through Time

  Scarab 2: Fighting Time

  Scarab 3: The Chains of Time

  Sorrow’s Sin

  The Gods of Time novella

  Sorrow’s Flight

  Sorrow’s Fall

  Gypsy Blood: Love Bloody Hurts

  Gypsy Blood: I walk the bloody line

  Gypsy Blood: The future looks…bloody

  Nixie Blood: A bloody little monster

  Nixie Blood: Prepare for bloody battle

  Nixie Blood: The Bloody Queen

  The Vampire Knights Series

  Lancelot’s Lilly

  Arthur’s Rose

  The Bastard’s Briar

  Sir Bor’s Belle

  For a full list of books visit: www.helenallan.com

  When sorrows come, they come not single spies, but in battalions.

  (William Shakespeare)

  PREFACE

  Gasping for breath, she watched as he drew back his fist, ready to punch her a second time, only to liquefy before her eyes.

  The crowd of men roared in support as, gasping and retching, she fell to her knees and crawled across the floor to where Judgement lay, the gun having slipped from his hand as he fell into unconsciousness.

  Reclaiming her weapon, she rose on unsteady legs and stared at the now-silent men behind their bars.

  Turning back to study the puddles, she found the keys to the cells amid one and, shaking the water off them, staggered from cell to cell, unlocking the doors and liberating the men within.

  When all were free, two hefted Judgment between them, and Sorrow paused for breath as she looked at the men who could stand, many supporting dying or badly wounded comrades. The corridor was crammed and quiet as they all considered their next move.

  “Anyone know a quick way to get the fuck out of here?” she asked quietly.

  1

  Sorrow gasped and coughed as the mask was pulled from her face and the unfamiliar atmosphere engulfed and threatened to suffocate her, once again.

  Her focus was hazy as she tried to see just who, or what, had tackled her, pushed her into the sand and bound her hands. She was relieved when she realised they were not Gharial, but there were definitely similarities, the scales for one, the tails. But their faces were hominoid, big eyes, small noses, lips similar to her own. Their heads though, and their backs, were covered in sharp, pointy spines, spines that, had they been on a fish back home on Earth, she would have surmised contained poison.

  Her mind whizzed in overdrive as she listened to them arguing about whether to take her back to their leader or kill her on the spot. Their language was new to her, but like all languages, understandable, it was a skill she was born with – the ability to speak every language, and one she was constantly thankful for.

  She needed an argument, anything to stall them, but her vision was blurred due to the sand whirling around, and her mind was becoming more and more dulled by the second due to lack of oxygen, and her newly discovered predicament.

  ‘Five years? Five years have passed since Judgment jumped through the portal?’

  One of the lizards, the one determined to kill her, pushed his weapon harder against her temple as the other vacillated over whether she should live or die. Neither was holding her tight enough that she couldn’t break free and make a run for it, but she knelt helplessly between them, gasping for breath.

  Although barely cognizant, she could see the one who wanted her kept alive was wavering as he frowned down at her, a look of disgust on his, clearly reptilian, face. She couldn’t see if he had fangs, like the Gharial, because both had redonned their masks after her initial glimpse. Knowing the masks contained oxygen, she wished they would just hold one to her face for a minute or two, to allow her to think.

  “I say we just, kill it,” the one with the gun said, “it is definitely one of their red army leaders.”

  “It can’t be, it is too small – and it is deformed - look at the lumps on its chest,” the second said, muttering and not bothering to look up as he opened her pack containing all her clothes and supplies, and rummaged around inside.

  “How would you know? You’ve never seen a red leader up close.”

  “Neither have you,” the one who was inspecting her pack said as he closed it and slipped it onto his back.

  “What’s in there?” the one with the gun asked.

  “Don’t know. We can look through it all when we get back, smells funny though.”

  “Pretty amazing that we caught something on our first assignment.”

  “I know, I can’t wait to tell the rest of the cadets – they will be so jealous – are you sure we should kill it though? It doesn’t look all that dangerous.”

  “Who knows what they are breeding now in their infernal laboratories. It is definitely not a Nãga. We should kill it.”

  “We weren’t told to kill anything.”

  “We weren’t told not to kill anything.”

  “True. Should we shoot it in the head or chest?”

  “I think chest – the Captain will want to see its face when we take its body back.”

  “Yes, but he won’t be able to see the lumps if I shoot it in the chest.”

  “True.”

  Sorrow shook her head to try and clear it.

  ‘Christ, I’ve been captured by dumb and dumber.’

  Despite her dizziness and rapidly approaching unconsciousness, she realised she might not have another opportunity to escape if she did not try to make a run for it. Her captors were clearly novice guards. Had she not been suffocating, she could have killed them both within seconds of landing.

  As the first cocked his weapon, she galvanised into desperate action. Wrenching herself from her would-be executioner’s grasp, she threw herself to the side as a small pop resounded. She couldn’t believe it had missed her but knew the second could not possibly miss at such close quarters. Realising she had nothing more to give, no more energy left to move, she opened her mouth to scream, just as a huge, furry creature burst into view.

  Knocking the two guards into the sand, it turned on them as they scrambled backwards screaming, and watched as they threw their weapons down and ran off into the desert beyond as fast as their legs could carry them.

  Sorrow gasped as she looked up at the creature that had frightened the two away. She knew a moment of fear as, rather than chase her captor
s, it turned to her, but only a moment, as the heat, dust and alien gasses took the last of her breath and she fell into unconsciousness.

  She woke to the feel of something poking her chest and the sound of a low, deep growl.

  “Alright, I’m not hurting her,” a small voice said, “I just wanted to see what they felt like.”

  Sorrow opened her eyes a fraction and drew in a sharp breath.

  Looming over her was the creature that had scared off the two lizards who held her captive when she landed on the planet, drool leaching from one side of its large jaws. Standing close by was a boy, or a dwarf, Sorrow wasn’t quite sure in the dim light of her surroundings.

  “She’s waking,” the small person said, “you better tell him.”

  The creature turned its head to the side and considered Sorrow before loping away, and the boy leant in to resume whatever study he had been making of her breasts before she woke.

  “Keep your fingers to yourself,” Sorrow said quietly, scowling at the boy as he jumped back with a squeak.

  Slowly pulling herself up to a sitting position, she realised it was a child, no older than perhaps six, and dressed in a miniature version of judgement’s original red army uniform, albeit dirty and here and there showing signs of wear and tear.

  “What is your name?” she asked. But received no answer as he turned, wide-eyed, and sprinted away.

  Sitting and stretching, she bent her neck back and looked up at the domed roof, twisting her head from side and side to iron out the stiffness in her neck, as she waited for whatever was to come. The fact that she was not bound or restrained led her to believe she was not a prisoner, but as she had come to realise when entering portals, anything was possible.

  Heavy footsteps behind her, though, soon brought a smile to her face.

  “Judgement?”

  She rose on unsteady legs and held out her arms.

  “Sorrow,” he smiled, striding towards her and wrapping her in a firm embrace, “I had given up hope of us ever meeting again.”

  “Five years, I’m told,” she laughed, feeling the ingrained sand in his dirty uniform dig uncomfortably into her sand-whipped cheeks, “but it was only a day or two to me.”

  He held her at arms-length and stared into her face.

  “It was a long five years for me,” he said, his eyes serious.

  “Those bloody gates are so unstable,” Sorrow shook her head, not willing to get into a personal conversation and avoiding his intense look. She looked beyond his shoulders to the many other Earthborns milling around behind him.

  From her limited perspective in this dim light, it appeared they were inside a deep, long and wide cavern. The only light was the sparse sunlight coming in from the large opening one hundred metres or so to her right which appeared to lead to the outdoors, and from the small, low voltage lamps hung from the walls every twenty metres.

  Apart from the other red-uniform clad Earthborn hurrying here and there, the section of cavern she had awoken in contained stacks of dusty weaponry, camp beds here and there against walls, and creatures like the one that had attacked the lizards at the portal; all of them resting or sitting around like so many large dogs, gnawing on bones, scratching and licking themselves.

  “How did you know it had been so long?” he asked, studying her face.

  “The lizard-like creatures that captured me when I landed said nothing had come through the portal in five years.”

  “I don’t know if that is true,” Judgment frowned, “but you did not, that is certain. I thought it must be a time difference when you did not follow the year I jumped. I recalled you saying how time had passed when you jumped from Earth to Heaven. But I could not be certain that you would jump, or that you had not been killed on your return to Heaven with the birdman, or indeed that Lokan had not blown up the portal before you could follow me.”

  “I told you I would jump,” Sorrow frowned, focussing back on his face, “I don’t believe I’ve given you any reason to doubt my word.”

  He breathed out heavily and considered her for a moment. They both knew she was alluding to his having concealed from her his true heritage during their time on Avalona. For her, this betrayal was still fresh – but for him, it was five years in the past.

  “And I have kept mine,” he said quietly, ignoring her intimation and waving at the industry all around them. “I returned in time to convince the leadership that Avalona was a lost cause, a planet destroyed by disease. Your allies threw several dead Gharial through the portal also, and their disease was evident. No more troops were sent through the Avalona gate – it has been abandoned these five years. The gharial do not even guard it since I told them it had been blown up on Avalona and nothing new could come through it. Now you are here, I will blow it entirely from this planet too, so nothing can ever go in or out that portal again.”

  “If Lokan blew it up on Avalona after I left, I imagine it leads nowhere now anyway and will simply fail to appear here next year if that is how the gates work. Although,” she frowned, “we can’t know. Maybe it will still show up here but lead to nowhere. However, it will not show up at all on Avalona; once blown….” she trailed off, uncertain now just how the gates would react to destruction on one planet.

  “The gates are still a mystery to us too,” Judgment nodded, “although the resistance has managed to blow up several on this planet, there are twelve planets ruled by the gods. We must assume that every planet has twelve portals. Protecting all from the gods and their armies will require destroying them all on every planet, at least, that is what I believe.”

  “You might be right,” Sorrow nodded, “but wait, you said the Avalona portal was abandoned? It was not abandoned. Those two lizard creatures were guarding it. They were about to kill me when your dog-thing saved me.”

  “I know nothing of this,” he shrugged, “I was not aware it was guarded, but no doubt you are referring to the local indigenous peoples of this planet, the Nãga. They are few and rarely seen; those we have seen are puzzling and mysterious in their actions and motives.”

  Sorrow put this aside for the moment but reminded herself to ask him more about these ‘Nãga’ in the future.

  “For now, the Gharial and the gates are my concern,” she said, keeping one eye on the industry around her as more and more Earthborn began to appear and don their weapons. “If we can stop their armies leaving, we can make a dent in whatever plans Shu and Tefnut, and even Seth, for that matter, are cooking up. You said you had managed to destroy other portals?”

  As she asked this, she noticed, for the first time, a great many more children, all Earthborn boys, amid the soldiers and animals.

  “Three,” he nodded, “and more will fall within a matter of days. I will go with my men now and destroy the Avalona gate, to be sure it is forever gone. Then my plan for the others will proceed.”

  “You only have a day left before they all close,” Sorrow frowned.

  “Yes.”

  “What can I do?”

  Judgement nodded, the corner of his lips turning up into a faint smile.

  “You can fight by my side, as we once did. But first, I must introduce you to my men – and to my findaile, Ib, it was he who retrieved you from the gate – he has searched there for you every year.”

  “Ib? You named him after the ancient Egyptian word for ‘my heart?”

  “It is as it sounds,” he said, “in the language of the gods.”

  Sorrow turned as Judgement said this, feeling eyes on her back, and looked into two large, deep, black pools, as they regarded her solemnly. She knew he shared Judgment’s memories, feelings, and one of his hearts.

  Even though she was now standing, the creature was as large as she had first thought. It was, she determined, definitely canine-like, about the size of a small horse and covered in long, shaggy fur, apart from its stocky legs, which looked as though they were covered in tough, skin plates, similar to rhinoceros hide. Its horns were straight and protruded forward, fro
m its head above its eyes, but not enough to block its vision. A long, jagged scar visible across its chest was bare of hair and Sorrow surmised this must be the scar that remained from the operation it and Judgment had suffered when one of his hearts was removed and placed inside the creature.

  “Thank you for saving me, Ib,” she smiled, approaching the creature and holding out her hand to stroke it.

  She frowned as it pulled back, recoiling from her touch, and bared its teeth.

  “Findailes are not pets,” Judgment said firmly, “they are warriors.”

  2

  Judgment strode down the marbled corridors dressed in his pristine red suit, Sorrow walking fast to try and keep up, the boy, Jury, clean, quiet and similarly dressed, almost running along behind to keep up, like a late afternoon shadow.

  They passed many other soldiers here and there, briskly walking by on this order or that. None gave Sorrow a second glance, and she began to breathe a little easier at their subterfuge.

  When Judgment had gone over the plan to take her with him earlier that morning, she had been sure it would fail.

  “You are absolutely sure?” she had asked for the umpteenth time.

  “Sorrow, I lead my echelon now, I report to my superiors weekly, never has my loyalty been questioned. They have no idea I lead the resistance. You, dressed in this suit with your lumps bound down tight, look like a small red army leader. You want to see inside the fortress; this is the best way.”

  “Breasts,” she smiled, “my lumps are called breasts.” She caught his eye and shook her head. The mention of her breasts had brought up memories she preferred to forget. Memories of the first time Judge had squeezed them, the first time he had kissed them, sucked them – she thought it unlikely he had forgotten either. “Now, tell me one more time about this complex,” she said, quickly changing the subject.

  He had given her a rough overview of the structure of the army and planet, but no specific details about how he was planning on destroying the portals, simply saying the less she knew, the safer it was for everyone at this stage.