The Chase For Choronzon

By Jaq D Hawkins

A zany chase through time and space and between the worlds to put the universe back in order, if they live to accomplish their task!

The demon Choronzon was supposed to keep the gate between the worlds, but he has abandoned his post and it's up to two reincarnated magicians, Karl Spare and Alei-Cat, to capture him and return him to his post.

A romp through time and space takes these two unlikely heroes through some harrowing portals and surreal adventures where they meet a variety of bizarre personages along the way, but there can be only one finale to the chase for Choronzon!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Golbin Publishing
• Release date: May 10, 2020
• ISBN: 9781370084944

Jaq D Hawkins

Jaq D Hawkins was originally traditionally published in the Mind, Body, Spirit category, but moved to indie publishing soon after releasing her first Fantasy fiction novel, Dance of the Goblins. She currently has one book on chaos magic in release, The Chaonomicon, and a new, complete volume about Elemental Spirits is to be released July 2018.She currently has five fiction novels released which include the Goblin Series (Dark Fantasy), comprised of Dance of the Goblins, Demoniac Dance and Power of the Dance, and her Steakpunk novel, The Wake of the Dragon (Airship Pirate Adventure) is soon to be followed by a follow-up novel, The Winds of Winter Storms.A science fiction novel called The Chase for Choronzon is in progress, as well as further writings in occult subjects.Jaq lives in England with her family and works on amateur filmmaking when she isn't writing. Most of the time she juggles deadlines between the two. She is a strong advocate of human rights and equality, which is reflected in her Fantasy stories through diversity in central characters.

Book preview

The Chase For Choronzon

by

Jaq D Hawkins

Golbin Publishing

First edition August 2019

ISBN 978-137008494-4

Copyright Jaq D Hawkins 2019

Jaq D Hawkins has asserted the right to be identified as the author of this work under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

All Rights Reserved

No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise without the prior written permission of the publisher and copyright owners.

The characters in this book are fictitious. Though the two main characters may resemble historic figures in many ways, their form within the story and all personality traits are entirely from the imagination of the author, though there may be the occasional reference to known likes, dislikes or other attributes of the figures who inspired the characters.

There is one exception. Though this book was in progress for many years before I met the magician and philosopher, Steve Ash, his fictionalised appearance in the story is meant as a tribute to his life, his various accomplishments and his writings. Soon after the time of his death in October, 2014, much of his work and influence was preserved on a dedicated Facebook page at https://www.facebook.com/groups/803665016356232/

If in the passage of time another website or social network becomes the popular place to post information, I'm sure that his writings will be reproduced as becomes appropriate.

Chapter One

Gods and Demons of New Hedone

The sign at the city limits read, New Hedone, population 12,042...more or less. Not a large city as cities go, but it had character. It was said that New Hedone was originally designed to resemble Old New Orleans. If it were true, time and abuse had altered the character of the city beyond recognition.

The old Georgian style houses still lined the streets, but were now suffering a severe lack of maintenance. The peeling paint and occasional shingles falling randomly from rooftops seemed to fit well with the impression of outworn usefulness given by many of the members of the local population who might be occasionally seen on the streets. Overall, the place had a seedy character.

Today, there were only two denizens to be seen on the high street. A woman, looking quite run down and naturally belonging in the streets of this decrepit city, and her companion, a portly creature of unusual kind, bearing tentacles and wearing an expensive business suit, which drew more notice than the oddly shaped creature himself by its well-pressed cleanliness.

On closer inspection one could see the lines of age on the emaciated woman's elongated face, the cavernous frown lines on a countenance that had never known beauty. Her skin and breasts hung loosely on her frame, the hair long and black, but stringy beyond all hope of ever becoming anything more than a mass of dirty snarls. Her nose was long and narrow with a sharp tip that turned down rather alarmingly, and the mouth blossomed with garish red lipstick smeared far beyond the naturally narrow lip lines. Her left false eyelash was disconnected at the outer edge, stretching glue across the smudged eyeliner. The faded red dress she wore had seen better days, as had the creased leather high heels that her stockingless feet seemed to overflow as she attempted to walk down the street holding the nearest tentacle of her companion in a clutching manner. This gave the impression of an unsuccessful attempt to maintain balance, or perhaps to detract attention from the woman's naturally ungainly movements. Her position in society could not have been more apparent if she had been wearing a sign reading, For Sale, cheap.

The tentacled companion might present a bit of a puzzle to those few visitors who failed to recognise him. He resembled a blob of warted flesh with somewhere between eight and twelve tentacles of a sort that brought the common squid to mind. Despite his apparent shapelessness, he was able to cut a rather neat figure in his costly silk business apparel. His eyes were connected by protrusions and did not always face in the same direction. Their exact number was in question, but appeared to coincide with the number of tentacles randomly emerging from his body. On his belt he wore a pager, monogrammed with the logo, JCN. In actual fact, there were no permanent residents of this town who would not recognise the CEO of Jordan Comptronics and Nuclear Products, it was C'Thon himself.

The tentacled creature and his ersatz companion strolled leisurely along the high street, hardly noticing the squirming of a large black snake when it emerged from the shadows of Four Ways Alley and slithered up the street before them. Neither did they take notice of the strange shimmer, which began to appear just within the alley as they passed, so intent were they on the dialogue spewing unceasingly from the woman's brightly painted mouth.

‘...and of course I am well known in Hada, a regular guest at all of Lady Kunda's parties. It's just amazing what a woman can learn among that crowd...'

The shimmer expanded, creating opalescent ripples of transparent silvery light in an outward spiral pattern until it covered an area nearly six feet in diameter. It glowed with shimmering lights in iridescent pastel colours, which seemed to dance in spiral waves, playing between forming shapes in subtle hues and retreating back into the maelstrom of liquid silver and rippling shadow. Then it suddenly imploded and disappeared.

In the space that had previously been occupied by the strange shimmerings, stood a man wearing a grey three-piece suit and long, black leather trenchcoat, accompanied by a rather large ginger cat. In many ways, the man appeared to be a very average man. Average height and weight, all the facial features in appropriate places, curly brown hair and deep-set hazel eyes adorning the typical pale skin of an Englishman. There was, however, something decidedly unusual within the intensity of the man's eyes, currently gazing at a small white card that he held in his hand. There was a fire within those eyes that gave the impression that it might be wise for one to stay in the magician's good graces, for who but a magician would make an entrance in shimmering, spiral lights?

It might have been possible to describe the cat who stood beside the man as an average ginger cat, if he hadn't been nearly twice the size of any cat normally seen among average mortals, or if he hadn't been wearing what appeared to be a silver and dark blue striped satin Ancient Egyptian-style headdress. Or perhaps if he had behaved like a cat of any kind, perhaps by chasing one of the scampering rats that populated the alley freely, rather than looking around as though he were assessing his new found location for decorating potential and looking very disapprovingly at the muck on the walls within which he now found himself.

Well Karl, said the decidedly unaverage ginger cat. I suppose you were right, the old demon has gone round to the pub and left The Gate unguarded again. The cat sat down and began to lick a front paw in the casual manner of his kind.

Yes, my old friend, we seem to have caught him out at an opportune moment. I must say that it's good to travel to New Hedone again after all these years. Sometimes I almost wish that the Old Boy didn't guard the ways so efficiently!

Mind Karl! You're the bloke who's always telling me to be careful what I wish for. Alei looked at Karl sternly. As a matter of fact, all of his expressions so far had given the impression that if one were to follow this particular cat for a time and observe his expressions, words like 'stern' and 'disapproving' would be common adjectives used to describe them.

And quite rightly too, Karl agreed. A magician must always guard well his thoughts, especially when he speaks them aloud. The unregarded desire so easily manifests with no allowances made for consequences. It makes no difference whether the magician is a man or a cat.

Who brought cats into it? Alei looked around as if searching for an unseen and vile creature, then looked back at Karl with perhaps an extra measure of disapproval. Alei didn't like cats, or their mention. It wouldn't occur to him that his companion might have been referring to himself, as Alei vehemently believed that he was no cat at all. His feline green eyes skimmed the area again, searching for any sign of one of the despised felines that might have inspired his companion to make mention of such vermin. In the process of his investigation, his gaze fell on the forms of the couple who were still strolling just beyond the alley, while the woman chattered on about her 'connections'.

Oi Karl, is that who I think it is?

"Indeed my dear Alei, there can only be one C'Thon, and unless my eyes deceive me, that is none other than the notorious Zara Schlocknasal gripping his tentacle. If memory serves, this road leads directly to the Golden Asp, New Hedone's best pub."

New Hedone's only pub, you mean.

"Yes, but that means it's also the best. Shall we follow them, and see what sort of rabble are presently lurking within the 'Asp?

Perhaps Old Choronzon himself...

Shush! Tread carefully, my friend. You know what can happen if you speak his name.

Right, Alei scoffed. His name invokes his presence, he comes back, closes the ways, and we get stranded in New Hedone for an extended holiday. Sounds good to me!

Karl laughed loudly as he stepped gracefully beyond the shadows and into the street. The cat followed, hesitating only a moment to sniff a piece of fluff that the light breeze had blown across his path. He sneezed once, then scampered to the heels of his human companion. Karl walked briskly in long strides as he whistled an old English folk tune that he had forgotten the words to long since.

Karl and Alei-Cat followed the couple all the way to the pub, slowing their pace to make an unspoken game of keeping step with them so that they were always the same distance ahead of them. To Karl, games of this sort were second nature, but Alei was more concerned that nobody should observe him entering a room in the company of Zara Schlocknasal. He had an image to preserve, after all.

The pub was noisy with strange, ethereal music and loud conversation as might be expected. It was common knowledge that New Hedone residents were mostly comprised of old forgotten gods and demons, many of whom found new enthusiasm for their former grandeur after a couple of pints. The fact