The Vorrh

Kor.
    The Frenchman coughed out a single, uncontrollable laugh. Its nervous splutter startled the creature, who loped into the foliage.
    ‘Adam?’ said the Frenchman, the sound of the laugh still wet in his mouth.
    There was no sound from Seil Kor, whose drooped eyes were full of remorse.
    ‘Seil Kor?’
    There was still no answer.
    ‘Seil Kor, that animal is barely human. How can it be Adam? He would be thousands of years old by now.’
    ‘The Bible says that Adam died,’ said Seil Kor. ‘It even says that the tree planted on his grave grew into the wood that became the true cross.’ He looked out into the trees and started to walk away from the place of the sighting. ‘We must go. We have come too far.’
    The Frenchman tried to follow, but had to stop to retrieve his gnawed shoes, slipping them on loosely and trying to hold them in place with his bunched toes.
    ‘Please, wait!’ he called ahead.
    Seil Kor stopped walking, his back towards the shuffling dandy. As the Frenchman drew near, he began to walk on, without a word or any indication that they were travelling together. His pace was slow to allow the Frenchman to follow. He seemed to know where they were and where he was going. After many awkward moments and several turns they reached a broader path. The widening space vented some of the tension between them, and the Frenchman’s queries bubbled uncontrollably to the surface.
    ‘Please, Seil Kor, tell me more,’ he implored. ‘I assure you I will listen this time.’ He looked beseechingly at his guide, who considered him evenly before slowly beginning to speak.
    ‘There are different Bibles, with different tales,’ said Seil Kor. ‘In these regions, the truth is told. Adam was never completely forgiven; his sons and daughter left this place and occupied the world. He waited for God, waited for forgiveness and for his rib to grow back. But he became tired of waiting, and walked back into the forest. The angels that protected the tree let him pass because there was nothing else for him to do in that sacred place. But, in his absence, God forgot him and so he has remained. Each century he loses a skin of humanity, peeling back through the animals to dust. This is what I was reading to you, when you went away.’
    There was real upset in Seil Kor’s voice, and for the first time the Frenchman realised that his affections for the young man were reciprocated. All that nonsense about Eden had been his way of bringing them closer.
    ‘I did not understand before,’ he said. ‘Will you forgive me, and tell me more of your wondrous book?’
    Seil Kor turned, looking deep into his companion. ‘You have much to learn,’ he said, smiling slowly, ‘and I will teach you. But we must leave this place quickly.’
    The Frenchman took his outstretched hand and they walked together through the flickering foliage.
    * * *

    Exactly one hour later, they returned. The hall was empty and quiet. The thing’s eyes were mercifully closed.
    ‘It’s alright,’ said Hoffman, ‘they are content. Let’s take the child and lock up.’
    Maclish conceded, but looked puzzled. ‘Where’s the bag?’ he said, his eyes scanning the room.
    ‘Oh god, not again!’ groaned Hoffman, stooping to look under the table.
    ‘They’ve taken it, haven’t they?!’ Maclish exclaimed. ‘The stupid fuckers have taken the bag!’ He was not a man famous for laughing and it sounded odd, somehow, solid and unused, as it erupted from him, the hallways listening to it in concentrated surprise.
    There was a scrap of cloth left on the table and the doctor used part of it to cover the face of the tiny form, fashioning the remainder into a weak sling to carry it away. The idea of the Limboia cherishing such a garish, effeminate bag was unbelievably comic, and they left in a mild hysteria, the keeper still smirking uncontrollably.
    The doctor had been right. The Limboia were contented, working in the forest with an even greater vigour than before. All seemed to return to normal, in the most abnormal of situations. And then Mrs. Klausen was reported missing.
    The rumours arrived just ahead of the police. Her hypochondriacal visit to the doctor had occurred two days before she disappeared, leaving her home and servants without money or explanation. The Die Kripo officers told the doctor all the details, and he told them even more: cysts, headaches, womb pains, night perspirations; varicose veins, haemorrhoids, allergic distress; breast