The Aberrant Sword

by Rebecca Ripley

  The little hammer comes down three times. Not that anyone is talking, but I understand it marked the start of the council. Everything done and said now will be on the record.

  Dad had told me to be respectful, to behave professionally. I promised him I would do my best. And I will – but that does not mean I will be able to reign in my big mouth and fiery character.

  “Today we are here to decide over the fate of initiate hunters Kathrine Imelda Thornton and Isabelle Amelie Adrienne Whitelock. These young hunters have been accused of handling and hunting outside of the council’s knowledge and jurisdiction, have been accused of working and collaborating with demons and stealing a priceless artefact.”

  “What!” I jump up out of my wooden chair, catapulting the thing into the knees of the man behind me and dropping the box onto the floor. “We did not steal anything!” I point to the sword that was displayed on a pillow in front of us. “That thing.” I say jabbing the air a few times with my outstretched index finger. “was about to be stolen by Asmodeus.” I say fiercely. “The only thing we did was made sure he could not get his filthy demonic hands on it.” I spit at my dad.

  I meet the gaze of a few of the councillors I know and hear a little murmur rise up from the visiting members behind me. My dad uses his hammer to calm me and the visitors down.

  “Sit down, Isabelle.” He looks over his glasses at me, the same way he used to do when I got myself in trouble when I was a kid. I sigh and sit down, arms crossed. I am fuming. We did not steal the sword. We saved it! I told my dad all about this. Why does the council still accuse me of stealing the damn thing?

  I was the only one who could touch it anyway. It is not as if they would have been able to grab it or keep it safe. I shake my head in disbelief and try to listen to the rest of my father’s ridiculous monologue.

  “We will give you ample time to prove to us that you in fact did not commit these crimes and the council and I will be very happy to decide on both of your memberships after the hearing. But for now, we ask you to stay calm and to respect the authority of the council. We do not go lightly over these matters and will handle in good faith – in the interest of both the hunter or hunters that stand accused as the council itself.” He says, not even looking up from the big tome in front of him. He doesn’t even dare look me in the eye. Puh. I cross my arms closer over my chest and slump in my chair.

  “On the first offence, handling outside of the jurisdiction and more importantly the rules of the council. How do you plead?” My dad looks at me over his glasses again.

  I shake my head and shrugged. “Not guilty obviously.” I snap. I turn to Kathy who is crying silently beside me. Her hands are folded loosely in her lap. “Not guilty.” She stutters.

  “You may provide your evidence.” My father says solemnly.

  “I think you must be mistaken.” Mr Bloodworth cleans his throat. I shoot him a dirty look and I am darn lucky he didn’t notice. I hate everything about that man. From his perfectly greased black hair to his manicured moustache. I hate his black suits; I hate his shimmering shoes and I hate his thin dumb sullen cow of a wife.

  “No evidence had been presented to the council.” He says, his nose pointing into the air as if he had just smelled something bad. I knew he would be against me. He hates our family. He was the one who tried to depose my grandmother, who lead a group of rebels to vote against my father taking up the role of head.

  “Evidence has to be presented at least 48 hours before the start of the council in order to be considered.” My dad turned towards Bloodworth.

  “Exactly.” Bloodworth says in that hoity toity tone of his. “But seen the extraordinary circumstances and the fact that this is indeed an emergency council, I do not think this rule should be applied here as in accordance to the precedent of 1785 in the case Wickham.” My father says calmly, handing a piece of paper to Bloodworth.

  I can see his blue eyes shift from line to line before he puts down the paper in defeat. Daddy 1 – Bloodworth 0. I relax enough to let out a little smile – only for a second or so.

  “You can proceed with the evidence.” Dad says. I stare at him for a second, not knowing what to do. His eyes shoot from me to the little box on the floor before me. “The evidence, Isabelle.”

  I nod and fumble slightly as I pick up the box and set it on the high table at which my father and the other councillors sit.

  “Could you please explain clearly to me and the other councillors what this box is and how you got it?” He says calmly. I know deep down his heart was racing, just like mine, but my dad is a good leader, a good man.

  I swallow down my nerves and start: “This box was given to me by my grandmother.” I said. “Could you, for the record, please state the name of your grandmother?” My father asks, looking at the frail little woman sitting in the corner noting down everything that is being said in this meeting.

  “This box has been given to me by Bridget Whitelock.” I swallow again, looking up at my dad to see whether this was what he meant. He nods slightly and urges me to go on. “The box has a secret lock which is unlocked by a puzzle. My grandmother, Bridget Whitelock sorry, taught me the puzzle when I was a young girl.” I take a deep breath, suddenly feeling alone and vulnerable.

  I wish gran was here. She would know what to do. She would know how to help me. She would just swoop in, tell everyone this was a big misunderstanding, that they were all stupid for taking it this far and that their ancestors would roll in their graves when they saw the council being used for these kinds of nonsense trials.

  “And what does this box contain?” My father asks. I stare at the box. “A dagger.” I say silently. My dad nods again and asks me what dagger was contained inside the box and asks me to open the box in order to show the council that I am in fact, not lying.

  I grit my teeth as I unlock the box, trying to keep the movements of my hands as obscured as possible. Since when was someone guilty until proven innocent? Wasn’t it the other way around? The lid pops open and I pick up the silver dagger inside. The rubies on the hilt flicker beautifully in the light of the many candles around the room.

  “Could you please hand the dagger to the council?” My father asks, looking at me over his glasses again. I hesitate. “I can’t.” I say silently.

  “What do you mean, child?” Mr Bloodsworth looks at me with hawk-like eyes. He leans forward. “You can’t or you won’t?” He asks slowly.

  I look at the dagger in my hands. “Both.” I say. “Only those with Guardian blood are able to touch and yield the instruments without…”

  I hear Mr Bloodworth snort. “Poppycock.” He spits at me. “Ms Pennyweather.” He commands the old woman in the corner of the room. “Please take the dagger from the girl and hand it over to the council.”

  “Stop!” The door slams open. “Do not touch that dagger!” My mother is out of breath. Her face is completely red, and she looks as if she had been running – or fighting. Or maybe both.

  “Isabelle is right.” She says. “About everything.”

  Three familiar faces appeared behind her. I take in a big long breath as Daimon winked at me.

  Chapter 29

  “How dare you!” Mister Bloodworth’s face is now completely red. He stands up out of his seat and walks away from the little podium the councillor’s table is located on. “How dare you bring them” a little spit flies from his lips onto an unsuspecting hunter sitting in the guest area – “to this sacred meeting?” he pulls up his nose. “Have you no respect for your legacy? For our task and our traditions as hunters?”

  Mom just simply lifts her hand to shut him up and shoots him a death stare. “We have bigger problems at hand, Nicholas.” She says while raising her gaze to father and the other councillors who are still seated in their chairs.

  “These…” She looks behind her, choosing her words carefully. “Allies” My heart made a little jump at hearing that word. “Have come to warn us that Asmodeus’ host is on its way. They are asking protec
tion for their wounded and children.” She says in a tone that means there would be trouble if anyone decided to refuse. Mister Bloodsworth inhales loudly through his nose and turns around briskly to walk back to his seat.

  Daimon steps forward, bowing his head to the council. I don’t know if I am more nervous now than I was when this whole farce started.

  “Dear councillors, dear hunters.” He nods to the room. “My name is Daimon. I am a walker and I do not mean you harm.” He pauses a second, trying to let the words settle in on the flabbergasted councillors and guests.

  “I have denounced my demon past.” He says slowly. “We – me and the other walkers have been living amongst and as humans for the past…few centuries.” He says, lowering his gaze again. “I understand that Mrs Whitelock is not with us at the moment, but she has always been a fair and loyal ally to those who chose the path of light.” He reaches for his inner pocket and pulls out the picture I saw on the wall in London.

  He looks up at the councillors as if to ask for permission. My father beckons him closer and takes the picture out of his hands. He looks at it without much surprise, as if he already knew what was in the picture. The other councillors pull wide eyes when they are handed the old photograph.

  “Poppycock.” Bloodworth spits again. “I knew Bridget was weak – a bit of an odd one out you could say.” He cocks his head. “But she wouldn’t be so imprudent as to actually befriend these…these… things” He says, glancing at the picture as if someone just handed him a turd on a platter.

  I cross my arms at that absolutely vile remark about my grandmother but decide to bite my tongue and swallow my words. I can only make things worse at this stage – and it wasn’t looking that good to start with.

  “Four of our safe houses were raided in the early morning.” Daimon starts again. I can hear the desperation in his voice. “Mrs Whitelock had always said there would be friends and allies waiting for us at Cranbourne House.” He swallows, looking through the room again.

  “The enemy of your enemy is your friend.” Danny speaks up, flicking her curls behind her ear. There is a sad fierceness in her eyes I had not seen before. “You can sit here, debate, vote about decisions all you want, but the fact is that Asmodeus is out there and he will stop at nothing to get that sword!” She takes a step forward. “Now, you can accept our help, or you can fight him alone.” She crosses her arms.

  I squash the little voice of reason and stand up out of my seat to chime in. “These people have been fighting Asmodeus for the past few years – decades even.” I point a finger back at Danny and Daimon while keeping a tight look onto my father. “I know we are supposed to see demons as enemies, but the hunter codex also dictates that we should protect the innocent.” I raise my voice. “And who is more innocent then children? Children who lost their friends, who lost their parents in an attack by that same man – that same demon, the council is trying to fight in secret.”

  I knew I hit a chord when Bloodworth’s tight, prune like lips purse even tighter. “We are not fighting anyone by that name. Your claims are completely unfounded and honestly I…”

  “Oh, Bloodworth you buggering twat.” An older, magnificent looking woman at the other end of the large table thumps the table with her hand. The little murmur that had been going through the room like an electric current seizes immediately. Everybody is now looking at the woman with the grey bob. “Are you really that thick?” She leans forward to catch a glimpse of his sour face.

  “We HAVE been looking for ways to fight Asmodeus, we HAVE known what he is up to for months now. No need in lying anymore.” She says, not taking her eyes of Bloodworth. “We did not know what he was after, had no idea what those oafs of him we have been slaying here there and everywhere had been after and we had no idea where to even start.” She stands up from her seat.

  “If anything, we should thank Isabelle and…” She looks at Daimon, Gustav and Danny for a second. “them.” She ultimately sighs. “We have not been completely honest with you.” She swallows and let her eyes slide through the room.

  “Half a year ago we noticed a spike of Demon activity in certain areas. London, Scotland, Bath…” She sighs. “There have been murmurs, talks… stories about a rising. We first discarded it as gossip, but when a pack of werewolves was murdered in Dartmoor, we knew something was up. We have been trying to capture demons to extract information but have not been very successful in doing so.” She walks down the steps of the little podium.

  “I forbid you to come out with that sensitive information!” Bloodworth stands up from his seat again, face blood red, a little vein building on his forehead. The woman looks over her shoulder and with one look, makes him sit back down in his seat.

  A large bang and the subsequent flash of light silences the whole room. Surprised faces look around as a slight murmur rises up in the room again. A few people stand up to have a look at the windows. “Oh, dear Mary mother of Jesus.” Penny O’Driscoll – who had been in the year above me, cries out. “They are here.” She quickly turns around, facing the crowd behind her. “They are everywhere. Hundreds of them!” She cries out.

  That is the queue for everyone to panic. Chairs are overthrown, blades come out of nowhere – Ms Pennyweather even unearths two small hand crossbows – god knows from where.

  “SILENCE!” My dad’s voice scalds through the room. Suddenly, the panic dies down and everyone stands frozen in the middle of the room.

  “Boy.” He looks at Damon. “Are you and your friends willing to help us?” He points his little hammer towards Daimon, Danny and Gustav. Daimon bows his head and promises help.

  All eyes ping-pong from Daimon to my dad during the silence that follows. “Are we really going to accept help from them?” Bloodworth speaks up again. That man is pissing me off.

  “What choice do we have?” I raise my voice. “There’s what…” I let my eyes slide over the people in the room. “Fifty of us?” I pause for a second to let it sink in. “And there’s hundreds of them. We will need any help we can get.” I cross my arms. “The enemies of my enemies are my friends, mister Bloodworth.” I say fiercely.

  Dad looks at me for a second and sighs. “All who is against accepting help from the walker community say Nay.” Three or four loud voiced scald nay. I can see the naysayers shrink in shame when they discover they are alone in their stubbornness. “All in favour?” A loud AYE resonates through the room.

  My father lets his little hammer fall down on the wooden stand as the decision was final. Daimon, Danny, Gustav and the other walkers are now officially on our side. We will protect their children and they will fight side by side with us.

  “Everyone!” Father tries to attract the attention of the hunters in the room. “I understand that not all of you are carrying weapons. Those who don’t please follow me to the armoury.” Bloodworth shoots me an angry look and disappears behind the curtain back into the councillor’s room and office.

  I sigh and turn to Daimon. “Are you sure?” I ask, putting my hands in his. He nods. “Thank you for standing up for us.” He says. “Your mom said you were being questioned.” He sighs. I can see worry in his eyes. “What is…” I swat his question away as it was nothing. “I’ll tell you later.”

  I turn to Gustav. “Do you have any more news on what this sword does?” He shrugs and shakes his head. “No, I am sorry. I have not a single clue.”

  I look over my shoulder to the large sword on the pillow. I was so angry when I had to give it up, when they forced me to put it on the pillow so it could be carried into the council room. I look at the small dirk in my hand and sigh.

  “What’s the plan?” I feel my father’s warm and comforting hand on my shoulder. He looks from me to Daimon and back again. “I will go and look for more able-bodied walkers to fight.” He says. “I will stay here.” Danny’s voice is steady. “I will help you to get ready, hand out weapons, set up a command centre… do whatever you need me to do.”

  My father nods. “Be p
repared for some resistance.” He says. “It is hard for us, fighting side by side with your kind. Hell, even I am not sure if I am 100% okay with this. But like you said… the enemies of our enemies are our friends. And at the moment, we can use any friends we’ve got.”

  He nods shortly to Daimon and Danny before trailing after a larger woman carrying the ancient decorative sword that was supposed to be mounted on the wall in the councillor’s office. I hear her small moans of objection before they turn a corner and disappear out of ear shot.

  “You’re doing great kiddo.” Danny looks at me with something I could only describe as pride in her eyes. “I knew you two would find the sword.” She looks over my shoulder at Kathy, whose father is still giving her an ear full.

  I force a little smile, my heart racing as a second blast went off. Closer this time. I can hear the first battle cries and the first clashing of swords and gunshots.

  “Those who are about to die salute you.” I sigh as I held up my stiletto. Daimon’s warm hand catches my wrist. “Don’t you dare joke about this.” He hisses through his teeth. “If it were me you would not be fighting at all.” He takes a deep breath, lets go of my wrist and looks away. I swallow as I am lost for words at his sudden emotional outburst.

  “Sorry.” I look down. “I should not have joked about it.” I force a little sad smile as I look back up. “I think it is best I show you the armoury.” I smile to Danny. “After you show me the library.” Gustav clears his throat. I nod. “After I show you the library.”

  Chapter 30

  I am part of the second line of defence. In front of me a large black hunter is making minced meat of one of Asmodeus’ minions. My mouth is dry, my ears are ringing, and the world seems to spin around me.

  There is blood everywhere. There is blood on me. Was it mine? Whose was it? I look to my right were Danny just beheaded a particularly ugly specimen while wielding two swords. She looks at me, a fierce gaze in her eyes. I hardly recognise her. She looks almost feral. For a second I am very grateful she is on our side.