Forest Kingdom Trilogy 3 - Down Among the Dead Men

air like a great commanding voice, silent but imperative. MacNeil stared down into the Beast’s eye, and the unspoken voice called to him, demanding that he surrender to it. And the longer he looked, the more he wanted to. Helpless tears streamed down his cheeks, his eyes dazzled by the silver glare that illuminated the cavern, but unable to look away. MacNeil stared into the Beast’s eye, and the world grew soft and dim. All the things that troubled him, all the things that scared and angered him, seemed to drift away. Nothing mattered. Nothing mattered at all, except listening to the silent voice and doing as it commanded. He was safe and warm and comfortable, and nothing would ever hurt him again. All he had to do was obey the Beast in all things, and it would set him free from the cares of the world. All he had to do was give up his duty.
    Duty. The word tolled in his head like a bell. He had served as a Ranger because of his duty to the Forest Kingdom. He had fought the demons in the long night because of that duty. He had stood at his post and he hadn’t run, because of his duty and his honor. In that moment MacNeil finally understood why he hadn’t deserted his post all those years ago, and why he never would have, no matter what. He had been afraid then, and he was afraid now, but there was no disgrace in that. Only the foolish and the dead never feel fear. Duty and honor are important because they give us courage, the courage we need to do what must be done, to face what must be faced.
    MacNeil groaned aloud and tore his gaze away from the great shining eye. He turned his back on it and pressed his face against the cold, unyielding stone of the cavern wall. His heart was racing and he was panting for breath, as though he’d just run a mile in full armor. Sweat ran down his face and stung his eyes. He’d come close to losing his mind and his soul, and he knew it. He shuddered violently, his hands clenched into fists. He made himself breathe slowly and deeply, and a little of his calm returned. He turned away from the cavern wall and put his back to it, wincing as the bright silver glare hit him again. But this time the unspoken voice was gone. He knew it for what it was, and his mind was closed to it. He looked around and saw that Hammer and Jack were still staring raptly down at the blazing eye.
    Scarecrow Jack called out to the trees, but nothing answered. He’d come too far from the Forest. He was in the Beast’s domain now. Its voice thundered in his mind, disrupting his thoughts and scattering his memories. He needed the strength of the trees. He reached out with his mind, fighting fiercely against the voice of the Beast, searching desperately for the communion of the trees that had always been his. The Forest was still there, far above him. The trees and the greenery still stretched for countless miles across the Forest Land, and all of its ancient strength was his to call upon. The darkness pressed in around him as the Beast grew stronger. Only newly awakened and barely come into its power, its voice was already nearly overpowering in its intensity. Jack summoned all his defiance into one great shout of denial, and reached out one last time. And finally the trees heard him and lent him their strength. The Beast’s influence vanished from his mind like the fleeting memory of a bad dream, and he was free again. He breathed deeply, and the bitterly cold air seared his lungs, shocking him awake. He realized how close he was standing to the brink of the ledge and stepped quickly backward.
    MacNeil nodded briefly to him, but sensed that Jack was still too shaken to be much help in tackling Hammer. The renegade guard’s face was working horribly, and his hands twitched around the hilt of the Infernal Device, but he was unable to tear his gaze away from the great blazing eye. The Beast had him now. MacNeil swore silently and braced himself. He had to get the Infernal Device away from Hammer before the Beast could take control of him. Now that the Beast had awakened, the hellsword was the only chance they had of equaling the odds. MacNeil moved stealthily forward and reached out to take the sword.
    Hammer spun around, the great longsword sweeping out in a viciously short arc. MacNeil dived under the blade at the last moment, and the wind of its passing ruffled his hair. The sword bit deeply into the cavern wall, and as Hammer started to pull it free Jack stepped in behind him and pinned his arms to