Far Horizons: Tales of Sci-Fi, Fantasy and Horror. Issue #21 December 2015 | Page 39

On the outside, Margo’s body was being led
to an enormous building made from what looked like
large metal beams stacked together in a vaguely cubic
shape. Margo’s body was staring five steps ahead of
herself with a blank expression, not even trying to
break out of her shackles. Not like it would do any
good, she was surrounded by five large demons that
were double her size. The demons seemed to be wary
of her, they weren’t used to their prey obeying them
this much. As soon as they lifted her up and pushed
her towards the path, she walked straight until one
of the demons turned her. The demons’ faces looked
like an amalgamations of skins from different species
and races, all stitched together with fishing threads.
They were wearing clothes made for protection from
extreme heat rather than decency or style. The hot
sand was crunching under their feet.
They walked Margo’s body to a small cell and
tossed her in. The cell consisted of a bunch of straw in
a pile, a small plate and a corner hole filled with what
seemed to be sawdust. Margo’s body sat down on the
straw cross-legged and stared at the floor.
***
Lucas’s eyes were now dry. He was still
sitting on the same spot, eyes fixed on the amulet in
his hands. It still hadn’t completely sunk in, he half
believed the amulet would vanish from his hand and
Margo would walk in, jokingly slap him on the head
and grab something from the fridge. But he knew that
wouldn’t happen, ever again. He finally managed to
break through the wall, finally managed to reach her,
and then he lost her. The realisation he would never
see her again, or worse, he would only see her lifeless
body float out of whatever hell Zetal had placed her
in, kept him from helping with whatever Jake and
Patrick went to do.
Jake and Patrick were in the lair. Patrick
was sitting in front of the now cleared desk, reading
an ancient tome, while Jake was sifting through
Malik’s stuff. Malik’s filing system was slowly being
overhauled, so one third of the lair was neat and tidy,
while the rest of it was stacked like an old closet
filled with stuff you never use. Jake was currently
buried under a pile of scrolls, murmuring every curse

word he knew, which was a lot, and involved se fW&