by Hunter Blain
“I never doubted you could beat him, John,” Da said sincerely.
I leaned over and embraced my friend in an awkward sitting-on-the-couch hug.
“So, does this mean you are here, with me, for like, ever?” I asked hopeful as I pulled away. A tear ran down my cheek in joy.
“No, I’m afraid not. Though I will always be with you in spirit, my road ends here. Your journey, on the other hand, has just begun.”
“But why can’t you come with me?” I asked, feeling my chest constrict as my vision became blurry.
“Because you don’t need me to,” Da said with a soft, compassionate voice. He began turning translucent, the air twinkling where his skin faded.
“I believe in you, John. I always have,” he said as he beamed a smile at me. “Remember, I won’t always be here, but I’ll always be with you,” were his last words as he disappeared and the air went still.
Warm tears ran down my cheeks as I smiled at my friend and mentor’s words. Then I placed my face in my hands and sobbed my goodbyes for the angel who had always seen the good in me.
27
I sent my consciousness through the window of my soul, probably for the last time, regaining control over my body.
Looking around, I was surprised to see that I was not in the same cave as before. Recognition hit me like a brick to the face when I figured out I was in the mausoleum above my lair. There, in the center of the room, was the throne that was the hidden door. It had been fixed and left as good as new after Oberon had all but destroyed it.
Holding the bag of angelic armor, I pressed on the hidden switch and made my way to the front door underground. Raising my hand to knock, I pfft’ed myself and opened my door aggressively.
“Honey, I’m hooooooome!” I called into the illuminated lair. I noticed there were some new doors along the side.
“John? John, is that you?!” Locke called out from the recliner he was resting on with an old book on his lap. He slammed the book closed, set it on the coffee table, and rushed to greet me.
Tiny Tim scampered up to me, cutting in front of Locke and prompting me to drop to my knees and scoop him up in my arms. He wriggled with pure joy against my chest as I kissed the top of his little head. Tiny Tim, not Locke, by the way. Just wanted that to be clear.
“Who’s this, then?” Locke asked as he approached.
“This wittle puppers is Tiny Tim. Can you say hewwo to the little warlock? Yes. Hewwo.”
Locke fidgeted on his feet and then rushed to embrace me in an awkward holding-a-puppy hug. I guess he was grateful that the universe hadn’t, you know, ended.
Locke was taller than I remembered, almost up to my own height now; the thought as to why created a small shadow in my mind.
“How long has it been this time?” I asked somberly as we embraced.
He pulled back, looked me in the eye, and said, “Three years.”
“Oh. That’s not that bad, all things considered,” I said with a sigh of relief. “What’s with the doors?” I asked, pointing around the room.
Joey exited one of them and regarded me with emotionless eyes. Then he saw Tiny Tim and I saw the briefest sparkle of light in them. I set the puppy down—who of course was no longer an actual puppy, but I shall keep calling him that because he was tiny—and watched as he rushed to Joey. They bonded immediately, and it was truly awesome to watch Joey’s stiff demeanor melt in an instant.
Ludvig and Magni came through two more of the doors, answering my previous question. Magni was a full-grown man now, no longer a child. He had a thick five-o’clock shadow that accentuated his face nicely. In my absence, he had also been lifting weights with Ludvig, apparently, because he was no longer the skinny, scared kid from our battles with the darkness.
Magni nodded once while Ludvig crossed his arms.
“Where have you been?” Ludvig asked. “And how come you look…different? I didn’t fink vampires could change deir appearance.”
I felt the eyes of everyone in the room roam over my body, stopping at various points to acknowledge Ludvig’s observation.
“Dude…” Locke started, letting his arms fall from around my narrow waist to poke at my stomach, “you’re skinny now.”
“Lean is the appropriate term,” I corrected. No one who had spent months and months working out incredibly hard and maintaining a strict diet of organic food wanted to be called “skinny.”
Joey smelled the air around me and said, “You’re different.”
“I’ve gone through some…changes,” I said, finding the right words.
I caught the room up on the events of my time in Faerie: the final epic battle with Lolth, training with the Fae, spending time with Lily (much to Locke’s disapproving expression), and becoming one with myself after battling Baleius for complete control.
“Let me get this straight,” Locke began, pacing the room as he thought out loud. “The first time you went to Faerie was only for a few hours, but ten years passed here. Now you’re telling me that you were there for six months, but only three years passed here? None of this adds up.”
A picture of Lily lying in bed next to me, asleep and bathed in moonlight, flashed through my head.
“I don’t know what to tell you, man. Parallel dimensions and all that jazz,” I answered.
“What are you going to do with the armor?” Locke asked, careful not to offend.
I looked down at the bag next to me, feeling the power it represented practically radiating from it.
“I need to keep it safe. Store it.”
“Store it where?” Locke asked, looking around the now tight confines of the Fortress of Solitaire.
“With Val,” I answered. “He will probably want this back, too.” As I finished, Mjolnir, which I had always felt on my hip, shimmered into existence before flying into my outstretched hand. Everyone in the room made an “Oooh” sound in amazement; all except Ludvig, who stared intently at the Nordic weapon.
“I’m going to see him now, and then Father Thomes. Do you know how he is, by the way?” I asked Locke as Mjolnir flew back to my hip before winking back out of existence.
“He’s fine. Doc has been providing his aging solution, though the price went up for some reason,” Locke said.
“Yeah, about that. A lot of enchantments and whatnot are about to get super pricey and rare. Most of the Fae are dead, so there’s not a lot of supply anymore.”
“Oh. That’s unfortunate,” Locke said, lowering his head to stare at the ground. I assumed a lot of what he did as a warlock involved enchantments, spells, and other hocus-pocus mumbo jumbo.
I could feel Ludvig continued to stare at my hip.
“Welp, look at the time. I really must be off to Val and then Papa T,” I said as I hoisted the bag over my shoulder and began walking to the door.
“Wait,” Locke said quickly. I turned to look at him and quickly took in the expression of anxiety on his face.
“What?” I asked, my eyes shifting from person to person, seeking any clue I could find. My gaze lingered on Joey, who stared at the ground and shook his head slowly, not wanting to believe what Locke was about to tell me.
“What?!” I demanded. Then the missing puzzle piece fell into place. “Where’s Depweg?” I asked angrily, letting the bag drop to the ground as I squared my body to the room.
“We don’t know,” Locke said slowly.
“What the fuck do you mean you don’t fucking know?!” I bellowed, losing my temper. When my own ferocity took me by surprise, I began to look inward and tell Baleius to knock it off, then I remembered…
I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and cleared my throat. “Where is he?” I asked calmly, with a degree of effort.
Ludvig stepped forward, braving the danger that was my wrath, and said, “I tracked him for a while, but lost the scent somewhere over de Mexican border where I stood out among de locals.”
“John, there have been reports of vicious maulings all across Mexico,” Locke inf
ormed me with a steady voice, as if one wrong syllable might set me off.
“He-he’s probably just letting off some steam. You know, killing the cartels and stuff,” I said hesitantly, knowing my words were bullshit.
“He’s killed innocents. The news are saying entire families related to known offenders, like those from the cartels, are being targeted by the unknown animals.”
“It makes sense if you think about it,” I pleaded lamely. “If you remove all the pieces from the board, there will be no cartels left.”
“Entire families, John. Women and children with the misfortune of having a male in the immediate family be a part of a cartel. Even the elderly who live with their children. Jonathan has…Jonathan has lost his mind.”
“No. NO,” I yelled, vehemently shaking my head. “I don’t believe you. I don’t…bel-believe…ya-you,” I began to hyperventilate as my world spun. My face and fingers went numb as I collapsed to my knees.
“It’s true,” Joey said. “He’s gone feral.” That stopped me in my tracks.
“Recently, a video briefly showing him surfaced,” Locke told me as he made an L shape with his left-hand index finger and thumb. I noticed the screen was bigger than last time.
“So? All the supes are dead, right? No one will hunt him down except the humans,” I said with a modicum of hope.
“Look,” Locke instructed as he walked next to me to show me his screen.
What I saw took my breath away. A blood-covered werewolf crouched to enter a doorway. He walked on two legs, with muscular arms ending in clawed fingers instead of paws.
“That’s not him,” I said, pointing a shaking finger at the bipedal monster. “Depweg’s got four legs, not two.”
Joey stepped forward, “His mind and body have fused. Depweg is no longer Depweg.”
“I-I-I don’t understand,” I stammered.
“His mind broke, John,” Locke said softly.
Joey added, “Allowing the wolf to take over. A feral wolf is a real problem. Entire countrysides were wiped out in the old days. Now that there’s a video, it won’t take long for the humans to try silver.”
“Where is he now?” I queried flatly, depressed at the situation unfolding.
“We’ll get you the information while you are out and try at an approximate location,” Locke said as he closed his hand, clearing the picture of my brother as a monster. “Once you get to that area, I’ll do a tracking spell using one of the teeth he left in the Hummer.”
“Three years and you kept those, huh?” I asked, getting to my feet. I didn’t really care why, I just wanted to poke fun at him. I picked up the bag and turned to face the door.
“When he didn’t come back, I thought it pertinent…”
“I’m just fucking with you. Now fix my room up nice while I’m out, would ya?” I called back to the room as I opened the front door and made my way up the stairs.
I walked through the cemetery—the bag of armor clanking with every step—alone with my thoughts on what was to come. Would I be able to save Depweg? Or would I have to put him down like a rabid dog. Father Thomes would know what to do.
At Valenta’s Saloon, I caught Val up on the entire story just as I had done with my friends. Once done, I followed Val into the basement where an empty box waited at the end of the line from the others. Val opened the lid and revealed cutouts in the black foam that seemed to fit the angelic armor perfectly, as if it had been made for it.
“Where’s the other set?” Val asked without his accent.
“Taylor and I agreed to keep them separate,” I said.
“Hmph,” Val responded with a slight nod of the head. He didn’t like it, but knew it was probably the smartest thing to do.
“Oh, what about this?” I said, poking out my hip and letting the Nordic hammer of the gods shimmer to life.
Val regarded it for a moment before looking up at me.
“Keep it. I think you’ve earned it.”
“Neat!” I said, picking up the hammer and waving it around.
“Be warned,” Val started with a serious tone to his voice.
“Of course, here it comes,” I said melodramatically while rolling my eyes. “Are you going to say, ‘With great power comes great taxes,’ or some other sentiment that may or may not be trademarked?”
“Showing your full hand may invite challenge from those that think they can beat you.”
“And that means?” I waved my hand in a “come on” gesture.
“You are dense, aren’t you? I don’t know how much clearer I can be. Did you trade brain cells for muscles or something?” Val chided before shaking his head in exhaustion. “Just be careful with how you use items like that. I’m trusting you, John. Don’t make me regret that.”
“I won’t,” I said honestly. “Probably.”
Val closed the lid on the armor, placed it on the shelf, and turned to make his way out of the basement.
While standing near the kitchen door, Val extended a hand out to me. I looked down at it and back up to him before grasping his hand in mine. We shook then, and I knew I had done the right thing with the armor.
“You did good. Raziel would be proud.”
“I know,” I said softly with a warm, knowing smile.
Outside, I extended my wings and was disappointed to see they were comprised of my blood again. Though they felt and performed like the real deal, it just wasn’t the same.
I flapped once and flew the short distance to the church. Knowing I had lost the pendant, I decided it was best to go down the chimney again.
“Ugh,” I complained as I wiped soot from my custom-made elvish clothing as I stepped into the parlor. I took off my gray beanie and shook my head back and forth quickly, sending a shower of white ash to the ground in front of the fireplace.
After replacing my beanie and patting my trench coat clean, I looked at the ground and realized I had made a mess.
“Eh, I’ll let Father—”
“You’ll let Father Thomes do what, exactly?” a familiar elderly voice called out from behind me.
I jumped three feet in the air and turned to land facing a very annoyed Father Thomes, who was reading a book in his favorite chair.
“Oh, ah, hi, Papa T!” I said, waving a hand back and forth quickly. More soot flew from my gesture, and I quickly grabbed my waving hand and brought it to my chest. “Um, it was like that when I got here.”
Closing his book and setting it beside the lamp on the table next to him, Father Thomes looked at me and asked, “Where’s the pendant?”
“Lost it,” I lied but also kind of told the truth.
“Mm-hmm. And where have you been?”
“On vacation.”
“John…” Father Thomes said, removing his glasses and giving me the “don’t you dare lie to me” look.
Sighing, I told him the whole story, which felt like I had told a million times already. I was getting good at acting out all the important parts.
“And then I said, ‘Don’t worry, Lolth! I bet you’ll enjoy the darkness on the other side!’ And-and-and she died.” As I finished, I plopped back in the chair next to him, letting my feet fly up for a second before crashing back to the ground in dramatic fashion—which was my favorite kind of fashion.
Father Thomes didn’t seem amused by my now usual antics and asked with a slightly annoyed tone, “You’ve had quite the adventure, haven’t you?”
“Everything…um…okay?” I asked, unsure of what I had done.
Father Thomes leaned forward in his chair, and I noticed for the first time that he looked rejuvenated, sprier than the last time I’d seen him. I’d have to thank Doc for his help. Maybe give him a fat ol’ bonus.
“What part of ‘if you die, the apocalypse will happen’ do you not seem to fully comprehend, my son?”
I. Got. Mad.
“Oh, I don’t know,” I exploded. “Maybe the part about a fucking black hole coming to eat Earth, all while a Lilith-damned plague ate at the
world tree.” I finished by slamming my hands down on the armrests of the chair, audibly breaking them with the sound of splintering wood.
I shook my head in disbelief, refusing to make eye contact with the priest.
After a few moments of uncomfortable silence, I aggressively added, “You’re welcome, by the way.”
“Something is different about you,” Father Thomes said. I turned to see him staring at me with narrowed eyes.
I took a deep breath, held it, and let it out while saying, “Yeah. There’s been some personnel changes upstairs, and I’m still dealing with the fallout.”
“Hmm,” Father Thomes hummed, still inspecting me. Then I remembered something important I had wanted to ask my old friend.
“Oh, I need your help with Depweg,” I said, changing the subject. Father Thomes shifted his facial features and became concerned.
“What is it?” he asked. I caught him up on the situation Locke had just dropped on me.
“I don’t know what I’m going to have to do, Father. If I can’t talk him down…I-I-I,” I stammered.
“Will have to put him down,” Father Thomes finished for me.
Tears threatened to leap from my eyes. “I can’t kill him, man. Not Depweg. He’s my brother! I-I can’t! I just…can’t.”
“When the time is right, you will know what must be done,” Father Thomes said, clasping his hands in his lap as he sat back against his chair and stared into the room with unfocused eyes. “I will pray for him. And for you, my son.”
“Thanks,” was all I could manage as I wiped snot and tears from my face while sniffling.
After about five minutes of silent contemplation on both our parts, which allowed me to collect my emotions, I asked, “Oh, can you get me another pendant? I kind of liked that old one. It saved my ass once.”
“What did happen to the one I gave you, John?”
My mind sprang to action, debating the pros and cons of the situation. If I told him the truth, he would probably ask about what the seer had said, and I didn’t want to have to explain that she had seen the gates of Hell open. I also didn’t want to admit that she had seen me kill Magni in her visions. Father Thomes hadn’t been too happy with me when I’d murdered Magni’s mother in a blood rage, and had actually imprisoned me for it. I wasn’t confident he would let me off with a slap on the wrist if he knew what was coming.
