The Aberrant Sword

by Rebecca Ripley

  But as the wolf’s tongue makes its way down my face to my arm, a soft and warm soft tingling spreads over my body. I try to shake it off, but I soon notice that where the wolf had licked me, the skin looked healthier – healed even. I groan as he starts licking the open wounds in my upper arm.

  The pain is excruciating but diminishes with every stroke of his tongue. What was this kind of magic? I try to sit up as two other wolves make their way towards me. I can see the suspicion in their icy blue eyes, but they nevertheless lay down by me and started healing my leg and the bite marks in my hands and fingers.

  “Are you okay?” Kathy kneels down beside me. I nod. “yes, thanks to our white friends here.” I lift my freshly healed hand and patted one of the wolves on the head.

  She strokes my head as one of the wolves starts licking the gaping wound in my calf. I didn’t want to scream but the pain was overwhelming. “How are you getting on?” I ask ultimately. Kathy shrugged. “The door seems to be locked.”

  I groan. I flex my hand, looking at the fine silver scars some of the wounds had left. Great. The last wolf stands up, backing away from my leg.

  My muscles are sore. I try to get up but an echo of pain creeps through my body again. “Fuck shit fuck!” I yell as I tried to stand on my previously mangled leg. I shake my head as Kath tries to support me. I know well enough that I am able walk. Now I just needed to tell my nerves and my brain that I actually could.

  A soft howl echoes through the room. The wolves sit next to each other in front of us. The other wolves joined in with their throats bare, howling at an invisible moon. “Isa!” Kath pulls me by the hand. “The door is open!”

  I turn around. The door had opened into a marvellous white marble room. I felt the wet nose of one of the wolves pressing my hand, saying goodbye. I squat down and hug the big white wolf. “How are you going to get out of here?” I ask him. “Will someone come and get you? Do you have a cat flap – well, no – a wolf flap you can go through? Do you have enough food?” I look at Kath. She shrugged. “Maybe take a picture and send someone down after all this is over?” she proposed.

  I nod. “Good idea.” My knees creak as I stand up. I am going to be glad when this is over. I need a bath, some fast food and a good night’s sleep.

  But as I walk towards the door and turned around to take a picture of the wolves, our six white friends were gone. They had disappeared without a trace.

  The clock on my phone flashed in big bright white numbers.

  19:19

  Chapter 25

  The room was brightly lit with candles and torches. The peculiar thing was that although the space looked grand and fit for a king, it was completely empty.

  I take a few more steps into the room and only then notice the massive painted bas relief on my right. It is a masterful work of art – and for the very first time, the characters I knew so well from my little box had detailed faces, and more importantly, names.

  I trace my finger over the red curly letters that form the name Arabel Pruitt under the image of my ancestor. She was pretty. Dark curls frame her angelic face. She has a determined look on her face. Now I also see how her hand is entwined with the one of the broad-shouldered demon next to her.

  ‘Séraphin’ the curly letters read. In his hand he carries a large sword beset with rubies. It is a large copy of the little stiletto in Arabel’s hand – the stiletto that is still hid away in that little wooden box underneath my bed.

  In the middle of the drawing stands the solitary figure my grandmother had called Raphael. His white fangs shimmer in the bright lights. They were very soft and smooth when touched and I guess they are mother of pearl inlays. Someone was proud of his fangs. On his finger he is wearing a beautiful emerald ring.

  Next to the magnificent vampire stands another couple. Where normally the werewolf would stand, a beautiful young woman dressed in Scottish plaid is looking up at a tall and muscular Warlock. His snake-like eyes are painted in a magnificent piercing green. The woman is wearing a brown amulet while the man next to her has a large book under his arm. Their names were Blair Fraser and Ainsley Hawthorne.

  I stood and stared at the painting for a while before I felt Kathy’s hand on my shoulder. “Is this the puzzle we solved before?” she asks. I nod. “Yes. But I guess the wolf is now painted as this woman here, and they are all wearing and carrying – what I presume, are their artefacts.”

  As if through muscle memory, I start to solve the puzzle, turning and twisting, pressing and grabbing as pieces of the secret enigma unveil themselves.

  I was waiting for the wall to split or a secret door to unlock. But instead five sullen tombs rose from the marble floor. Kathy gasps as she saw the beautifully carved statues on the tombs of the people depicted on the wall. They look frozen in time. The marble was so finely carved that it appeared as if Arabel Pruitt and her friends were sleeping on these large slabs of marble.

  On the large altar I can see three bowls made out of wood. A red one, a brown one and a white one, all in the same kind of wood as the three doors we passed not two hours ago. I sigh as I realised this was yet again another puzzle, another riddle.

  “I think this is combining all the riddles of the past rooms.” Kathy came to the same conclusion. “You will need to give the bowl a drop of your blood.” She says. I grimaced as I felt the point of the knife pierce the skin on my finger.

  We both wait in anticipation as the four drops of blood hit the black dark water in the bowl. Nothing happened. No rumbling, no growling… just nothing.

  I look up at Kathy. She shrugs “I don’t know.” She says, looking around to see what changed. “Did you do anything differently?” She asks. I shake my head. “I don’t think so…”

  I think back at the large altar with the bowl in the other room, about the note, about what they wanted above all. “Kindness.” I said. I hardly noticed the words had left my lips. “I need to do this with kindness.” I turn to Kathy who was holding my dagger.

  “Yes.” She says, nodding fiercely. “Of course. It’s a combination of all the puzzles, and kindness and compassion were what these wolves desired most.” She gives me back the knife and I try again. I close my eyes, calling up the feeling I had when stroking the wolf, the way the wolf had looked at me, the way his soft fur had felt in my hand. I even felt the forgiveness of the wolf that had set my brain on fire once I touched the wolf with a kind hand.

  The moment my blood hit the black mush in the bowl we hear the rough sound of stone on stone as the top of the Demon opens up. In front of us the large bowls have made place for a magnificent silver sword. The hilt is laid in with rubies and sapphires.

  “You take it.” Kathy says as she backs away from the sword. I stick out my hand, scared of what would happen now. We know that holding and wielding the instruments is deadly to those who are not direct descendants of these 5 heroes. And although I have already touched the dagger under my bed, I am scared I will burn myself when I touch the sword – or worse, drop dead straight after putting a finger onto the polished metal.

  “Are you sure it’s okay?” I ask as I turn back to Kathy. She nods. “It should be.” She says. “If that dagger underneath your bed is what Daimon says it is….” I sigh and try to control my heartbeat. My hand is shaking as I feel the cold metal against my fingertips. I am not dead yet, nor have I lost my fingers. I now close my hand around the hilt of the sword, ultimately lifting it from the altar with my shaking hand.

  “Wow!” I sigh as I feel the power of the sword in my hands. I have never touched such a well-balanced weapon in my life. I can feel how this sword becomes an extension of my arm, of my mind. In fact: holding it felt great, it is exhilarating.

  “We did it.” Kathy sighs with a large smile on her face. “We got the sword.” She laughs. I nod, looking at the large weapon in my hand. “We did.” I say as I pull her close for a hug. “We did it.” I repeat.

  “Now…” I say as I look around. “How do we get out of here?”
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  Chapter 26

  The biggest surprise of that day was not the two demon oafs that attacked us on the graveyard, not even the fact that we had to solve a gazillion riddles and puzzles to finally get the sword, or even the fact that in the end the stairs and the tunnel from the Demon’s tomb lead us to the crypt of St Paul’s Cathedral, but rather the angry welcoming committee that was waiting for us in the marble room.

  As we crawled out of a little door that turned out to be the name plate by Christopher Wren’s tomb, I felt two strong hands pulling me out of the hole.

  You cannot imagine how surprised I was when I saw the absolute fuming expression on my father’s face. The sword clatters onto the floor. “Don’t touch it!” I scream as a young hunter tries to go for it. His name was Nic or Mike – I don’t really remember as he is quite dull and was only initiated two years ago. “Do not touch it or you will die. I am not joking” I say as I try to wrestle free from my father’s grip. He looks at me as if I was a piece of shit but luckily backed away from the sword. He has no idea I just saved his life.

  “Are you completely out of your mind?” My father shakes me. “Running off with poor Kathy, befriending bloody demons?” I do not think I had ever seen my dad so angry. His face is blood red and spit is coming out of his mouth as he speaks.

  My dad pulls me by my shoulder and as the group opens up to let us through, I can see the old priest watching us behind one of the marble pillars.

  I don’t say anything. I know that trying to talk to my dad when he is in this state was a lost battle. Besides, my most compelling evidence that what we did was the right thing would give away that my grandmother was still alive, that she was still out there. And her advice to not trust anyone has been echoing through my head ever since my dad pulled me out of the hole.

  I have to talk to both my mom and dad. Alone.

  I have to show them.

  Chapter 27

  I am sitting in the living room. My mother and father sit in the two chairs by the hearth facing me. The drive back to The New Forest had been a silent one. Dad had hardly spoken two words and I had taken the time to think about my explanation, what I would say to him. How I could make clear that what I did was the right thing.

  “Bloodsworth has called an emergency council.” My dad says silently as he comes off a call that had disturbed his angry monologue. He had been shouting for the past 40 minutes while my mom had tried to calm him down. She brought us some of her famous chamomile tea and had prepared me a stack of sandwiches.

  I had forgotten how hungry I was until the first cheese and pickle sandwich touched my lips. My stomach hurts and I feel faint.

  “Dad…” I try. I feel the heaviness of his words in his tone. “He wants to reconsider your and Kathy’s membership.” He sighs, rubbing his eyes.

  “What?” I jump up from the sofa, almost catapulting the tea pot off the coffee table in front of me. “He can’t do that!” I scream. My blood is boiling. Bloodsworth is a vile man. He made it a life’s goal to kick my grandmother off the council and when my dad took over, he just shifted his focus to make my dad’s life a living hell.

  “He can, lovely.” He sighs again, deeper this time. “You did not only go on a mission without the Guild’s consent, you also fraternised with demons.” He shakes his head as I grunt. “In fact, the emergency council is only a formality.”

  I roll my eyes. “But it was grandmother!” I try again. Dad did not buy the story that gran, his mother, had sent me a message, that she had been a friend of the walkers and that it was her book and her notes that lead me to the sword.

  “You undermined the council.” Dad raises his voice again. “We had been tracking Asmodeus for the past two years.” He says, a bit calmer this time. “We knew what he was doing, we knew what he was planning.”

  “Then why didn’t you tell me?” I am angry now. Angry that he did not believe me, but also angry that he had kept secrets for me. I thought dad and I had no secrets.

  “Because the it’s High Council’s business. You are 17 Isabelle. You are hardly a senior member. Hell, not even all senior members knew about Asmodeus.” He rubs his cheek before turning to me. “Why didn’t you come to me?” he asks softly this time.

  I can see the disappointment on his face. He is hurt that I had not trusted him enough to come to him directly. He cannot understand why I had done this behind his back.

  “Look…” I say. I am almost in tears over how much I had hurt my dad. “If I could prove it to you, if I could just…” and then I remember the phone in my pocket and the pictures I took of the books and the notes.

  “Wait!” I chuck the contents of my bag onto the glass table in front of me. I pick up my phone from between the numerous tickets and all the other random crap in my bag. I unlock the phone with my finger, swipe through the last few pictures and hand the device to my dad.

  “Look!” I point out gran’s handwriting. I took a picture of the note in the big red book. Dad sighs as he takes the phone out of my hand. He has his ‘I will look and listen, but you will not change my mind’ look on his face, but when he sees the little note in the picture, he looks up at me.

  “She sent you this?” His voice cracks. I nod. “She sent the book by courier. I guess it is still with the guys…” I sigh. Dad looks through the other pictures I took of random notes and texts and stops at a selfie I took with Kathy, Danny and a reluctant Daimon just after we had finished cleaning the apartment. The biggest task of our lives, we had called it jokingly.

  Dad sighs again. “And these are your demon friends?” He asks. I can hear disappointment, and it breaks my heart that I could not introduce him to these wonderful people. “Yes.” I say silently.

  “They are walkers.” I explain taking the phone out of his hands. “They…” I take a deep breath to find the right words. “They denounced their life as a demon and decided to take up life between humans. They just want to live a normal life except that they are…” “Infernal.” Dad finishes my sentence. I nod.

  “Why would grandmother ever have befriended these walkers? Why is this the first time we hear about them?” he asks. I shake my head. “I have no idea. I can only tell you what I know.” I say. I told him about Arabel Pruitt and how she saved mankind when the hell fires rained down on London. Dad listened but shakes his head. “But it was Aethelred Blackswroth who saved mankind. That is why we were made into hunters.” He protests. “It is our lore. It is our history.” He sits straight now, ready to tell me that I have been a naïve little girl.

  I snort. “What if it wasn’t Aethelred Blackswroth.” I protest. “What if it was Arabel Pruitt all along?” I sit back down. “It was her likeness that was painted on the walls, it was her dagger that grandmother gave me…”

  Dad shakes his head again. “If this is true, little dove.” He sighs. “Then our whole history has been built on lies.” He says. “I do not think you understand the repercussions of this.”

  I swallow as I try to think my way on top of this, as I try to win this argument. “Well…” I say. My throat is dry. “What a glorious time to start and try to correct that history.”

  Chapter 28

  The room goes silent as Kathy and I walk in. The ten councillors are seated on a long table facing two wooden stools which were obviously reserved for Kathy and me.

  The ten councillors are all wearing their traditional black robes. This was only the second time I saw a council in action, the first time was when my father was inaugurated.

  I marvel at the high ceiling and the beautiful frescos on the wall. I look up at the paintings of the previous heads of the council and feel tears burning behind my eyes as I see my grandmother’s kind eyes staring back at me.

  I remember playing in this room when I was a kid, sneaking in when my dad was not watching, and him lifting me over his head, tickling me until I begged him to stop. Once I started my training, I was not allowed in this room ever again. The one time I did try to sneak in, my dad caught me befo
re I could even turn the handle.

  My heart is beating in my chest and my mouth feels dry. I am so nervous. I was able to convince my dad – with some help of my mother, who was on my side, but now I have to convince 9 other men. Men who are not necessarily as open minded as my parents.

  I take a deep breath as I sit down on the wooden chair. I look up at my dad, but he is staring angrily at a stack of papers in front of him. I have never seen him this serious – this scary. I turn to Kathy for a second. She had not stopped crying since she set foot inside our house.

  I can see a large bruise on her cheek, but when I asked her what was wrong or what happened, she just flinched away. I have never understood how Kathy, the most intelligent and kind girl I have ever known, has such absolute savages as parents. My parents never really got on with the Thornton family – not in the least because Kathy’s father and uncle are the Crabbe and Goyle to Mr Bloodworth’s Malfoy.

  I have always known that she has a hard time at home. After she failed her physical exam, she had bruises all over her arm. When I talked to her about it, she told me she hurt herself during the test. I should have said something. I should have done something. I should have stood up to Mr Thornton. In these past few weeks I came to understand how much Kathy means to me, how absolutely amazing she is. And it angers me that her own father failed to see this.

  I think she saw going to Scotland to study as an escape from her parents. But now I have taken that from her. I swallow hard as I try to drown the guilt in my stomach.

  My dad lifts the little carved hammer which was made from the same wood as the box I have hidden under my dress. Mom had pushed the little wooden box into my hands right before we were ushered through the doors.

  “If there is anything that will sway their minds, it will be this.” She had whispered. “I love you honey. Whatever may come. I am here.” She had mouthed another “I love you” Just before Kathy and I stepped through the big ostentatious wooden doors.