Call of Kerberos: Twilight of Kerberos, The - Jonathan Oliver Page 0,22

and suddenly he was surrounded by the whispers of its brethren as the psychic barriers fell away.

... all burned... He comes... half-breed... half-breed... lost... final cycle... Brood...

Words and images crowded Querilous's mind but in the storm of sensory information he recognised a familiar phrase.

"The half-breed, what is that?"

Again the creature tried to push against his questioning. It tried to reach out to its brethren, warn them that there was an alien mind amongst them but Querilous tightened his grip and the creature howled in pain.

"I think that you'll find challenging my talents is a bad idea. Do it again and I'll boil your brain in your skull. Now, let's try again. What, or who, is the half-breed?"

Querilous could feel a ripple run through the collective minds now open to him and an image began to form. He recognised Nürn immediately. How could he forget that shabby little coastal town where he had once holidayed with his mother? There was a fishing boat approaching the harbour and the image swam to focus on the man leading the craft to shore.

Half-breed.

"Him? That man is the half-breed that is so important to you?"

Half-breed. Lost.

"Lost? How? Show me."

Again, the image in his mind began to swim and this time the sounds of screaming and the roar of fire accompanied it.

Nürn was awash with the Chadassa as they smashed apart the town, eviscerating anybody who got in the way. By the docks Querilous could see the 'half-breed' surrounded by more of the fish demons. A woman was standing near to him and the ancient creature with the staff that he had seen before in the prisoner's thoughts loomed over the fisherman. Suddenly there was an explosion of magical energy and the ancient one was flying across the harbour as a boat rushed towards the shore. At its helm was a face Querilous recognised very well.

"Kelos!"

Querilous watched as Kelos rescued the fisherman and the woman before turning the boat away from the shore. Soon they were cutting across the waves with a supernatural swiftness.

Half-breed! Lost!

Querilous was buzzing with excitement now. He had found a lead to one of their ship thieves and, if his reckoning was correct, he thought he knew where Kelos's rescue boat had been heading.

LOST!

Suddenly there was an immense screech of psychic noise and Querilous's hands jolted as his flesh began to burn. He tried to pull away from the voices and images that crowded his mind but the maelstrom of sensations held him in its grip. He could feel the creature in the chair thrashing against its restraints and there was a peculiar smell. It reminded him of the sea but there was also an odour of burning to it. Querilous suddenly found himself blind and he gritted his teeth as he forced his mind against the barrier that had been thrown up against it.

Suddenly he was free, and he reeled across the interrogation room, he palms throbbing with pain.

Once his surroundings had stopped spinning Querilous looked down at his hands. They were blistered and peeling, as though they had been plunged into a pot of boiling water. The odour that he had smelt earlier was stronger now and he realised that it was coming from the prisoner.

Looking over at the thing in the chair he could see steam rising from its skull.

Querilous cautiously approached and was appalled to see two gaping holes in the Chadassa's head where he had hurriedly torn his hands free.

Querilous may have found a lead to their fugitives, he considered, but how was he going to tell Makennon that he had killed one of their most valuable prisoners?

Chapter Seven

Silus marvelled at the beauty of the Sarcre archipelago as they glided over the crystal blue water. He had never seen the sea so calm. The formation of the islands here broke apart the angry water that surrounded Sarcre, channelling it into the clear cool channels that separated the islands. Silus looked over the side of the boat and could see all the way to the seabed. The water glittered with life. If he and Katya lived here, he considered, they could make a very comfortable living. He wouldn't even need a net; he could just reach over the side of the boat and pick the fish from the sea.

At the oars Dunsany sweated in a heat that was even more intense than it had been that morning. The rest of them sat crowded into the boat; Emuel looking forlornly into the distance as though searching for a lost