by M. D. Massey
The Avartagh advanced on him menacingly. With each step, the creature thrust a clawed finger at him, punctuating his words. “You, boy—you will be the last of Fionn MacCumhaill’s line to walk this earth. And if I have any say in it, you’ll go down in history as a murderer, not a hero. I’ll sully the name ‘McCool’ forever, as I end your miserable existence for all time.”
The Avartagh’s eyes were glowing now, in a sick deep red that resembled the color of clotted blood. Colin watched as claws formed at the end of its fingers, and the vampire’s teeth lengthened considerably. Each tooth grew into wicked little points that reminded Colin of an evil clown mask he’d worn one Halloween.
After the Avartagh’s transformation was complete, he sprang forward in a blur and landed a punishing blow against the little shield Colin held. It cracked it down the middle and Colin flew back into the mayor’s office, where he bounced off the metal frame of the plate glass windows and fell behind the mayor’s desk.
Colin pulled himself to a sitting position against the wall, wincing at the pain in his side and back. He was having difficulty breathing, and with every breath he felt bones grinding in his chest. Blood flowed profusely from his forehead, and he could barely lift the arm from which the broken shield pieces dangled.
He looked over at the mayor, and thankfully he could see the mayor’s chest rising and falling gently. Then he looked up to see the Avartagh floating toward him. As it did, the creature morphed again, from a twisted caricature of his best friend into an equally ghoulish version of the leprechaun, Brogan.
Colin harrumphed and spat out a mouthful of blood on the floor beside him. “So, you’re the Avartagh. Somehow, I knew I couldn’t trust you—I just didn’t know why exactly.”
The Avartagh laughed and floated to land on top of the desk, where it leaned on one knee and stared menacingly at Colin. “And now you’ve finally realized the very nature of the so-called ‘fair folk’—that not one of us can ever be trusted. I warned you myself, did I not? But then again, none of you fools ever listen—at least, not until it’s too late.” The creature grinned a wicked grin and chuckled softly.
“Imagine, boy: imagine all the heartache and pain that will be caused when the spell is lifted from this town! Imagine the misery! Families will split apart, lives will be ruined, and I’ll be beneath it all, feasting on the misery for years and years to come. Do you know how sweet the blood is from someone who has no hope? When I drain their veins in their homes at night, they’ll be begging for me to take their lives—and I’ll savor every last drop. And the best part is, I’ll be able to feed on all their misery for decades to come.”
Colin made a half-hearted attempt to pick himself up, but then seemed to lose his balance and slump off to the side. The Avartagh laughed at him.
“Don’t die on me yet, boy! I want you to watch me beat the mayor bloody with your own shillelagh. Then, I’ll make it look as though he fought valiantly against you, wounding you fatally as he died from the beating you gave him. Imagine the grief on your mother’s face, when she finds out her boy was a cold-blooded murderer. After losing her husband, I’m certain the strain will be much more than she can bear.”
18
“No!” Colin screamed, as he lunged up from behind the desk with a bloody crossbow bolt in his hand, ripped from the shoulder of the mayor. He plunged it deep into the chest of the Avartagh, then without hesitating or waiting to see the results, he limped over to grab the war club from the other side of the room.
The dwarf leaned against the desk, clutching at the yew shaft that jutted from its chest. Where the dwarf’s hands touched it, his hand smoked and smoldered, as did the flesh around where the wound. The Avartagh looked fearfully at Colin as he advanced across the room.
Colin smiled in grim satisfaction as he limped slowly toward the Avartagh, dragging the club with one hand behind him while he enjoyed the creature’s terror. With every limping step, the bat made a metallic sound as it scraped on the tile floor of the office. Step-drag-skritch. Step-drag-skritch. Step-drag-skritch.
The Avartagh’s eyes widened in fear with each step Colin took toward him, and he began to bargain for his life.
“I really do have gold, boy—riches beyond measure. I can make sure your mother and you never have to worry about money, ever again. I can even make her a famous artist. Just spare me from going back to the grave. I can’t go back—I won’t!”
Colin ignored the Avartagh’s cries for mercy. Finally, he was within reach, and firmly grasped the handle of his lucky bat with both hands.
“Let’s get something straight, you disgusting little freak of a creature. You hurt my mom. You hurt my friend! You hurt my town. And I think it’s time to put you back in the dirt, once and for all.”
He raised the bat high overhead like a samurai, and the dwarf cringed as Colin crunched it down on his head. When the bat struck, an earth-shattering sound emitted from the meeting of bat and dwarf noggin. Colin staggered back several feet from to the impact and barely managed to stay upright. After catching his balance, he looked up to see that the Avartagh’s body was shriveling and shrinking. The vampire seemed to deflate right in front of his eyes, aging hundreds upon hundreds of years in a matter of seconds. Soon, all that was left was a withered, mummified corpse.
Remembering the mayor, Colin limped as fast as he could behind the desk to check on him. He was bleeding profusely from where he’d pulled the crossbow bolt from his shoulder, so Colin removed his hoodie and used it to apply direct pressure to the mayor’s wound. “I’m sorry I had to do that, Mayor Boynton. Please don’t die.”
He pulled out his phone and dialed 9-1-1 to call for an ambulance, then promptly passed into unconsciousness.
When he woke Colin was in a hospital room, surrounded by flowers and cards. He had tubes sticking out of both arms, a plastic tube hanging out of his side, an oxygen mask on his face, and several I.V. bags were hanging from metal poles next to the bed. As he fully opened his eyes and looked around, he saw Jesse sleeping in a chair in the corner, and his mom asleep in a chair right next to her.
He tried to sit up but found it was incredibly painful to move. Recalling when he’d had his tonsils removed as a child, he found the controls for the bed and adjusted it so he was sitting upright. As he did, both his mom and Jesse woke up, and his mother cried as she rushed to his side.
“You’re awake! Oh, thank God—the doctors said it was best to keep you under, but I thought you’d never wake up again!”
He squeezed his mother’s hand and smiled at her. “I’m fine, Mom—or at least I think I’ll heal up alright. Just give me a few days.” She leaned down and kissed him on the forehead.
“A few days?” Jesse waved at him from behind Mrs. McCool’s shoulder and winked. “When you saved the mayor from the tornado, you suffered two broken ribs, a collapsed lung, a sprained ankle, a broken hand, and a concussion—not to mention thirty-four stitches and the most wicked collection of scrapes and bruises I have ever seen.”
Since Jesse was standing behind his mom, she’d emphasized the details of the cover story with finger quotes. Colin got the picture and decided to play it dumb by faking a case of amnesia. “Huh. I don’t remember any of that. How long was I out?”
“It’s Monday, so you’ve been out for about two days now. The doctors were actually keeping you under for the first day so you could rest. But they stopped drugging you last night, and your mom and I worried you’d never wake up.” Jesse reached past his mom and punched him ever so lightly on the arm. “Anyway, you’re the town hero now. Check out all the cards and flowers. Looks like you’re going to be the big man on campus, for a while at least.”
“Jesse, keep an eye on him while I let the staff know he’s awake,” Colin’s mom stated. Then she scurried off out of the room, calling for the nurse as she scampered down the hall.
Colin winced as he readjusted in bed, and turned to look at Jesse. “So, I’m glad to see that you’re alright. I passed out, and t
he last thing I thought of was going to find you.”
Jesse shrugged her shoulders. “Eh, no need. I got jumped by that miniature nightmare right when you went into the mayor’s office, and that’s when the little freak made the switch. I woke up in a storage closet, but cut myself loose before the cheerleaders from hell arrived. Then, I kicked their prissy little powder puff butts all over the place. Turns out an iron crow bar can give the fair folk a bad case of the see ya laters. Who knew? Anyway, by the time I got back upstairs you and the mayor were surrounded by paramedics. They say you saved his life.”
“Well, I’m glad he’s okay, since I was nearly responsible for killing him.” He moved slightly and winced. “I guess that dwarf was pretty tough after all.”
Jesse smiled and punched him again on the shoulder, which elicited a grimace from Colin. “When you get better, I wanna hear how you took out the vampire dwarf—and nearly killed the mayor in the process.”
“Hey, you’re the one who shot the mayor.” Colin chuckled and then winced as he leaned his head back on the pillow. “Honestly, though, right now all I want to do is sleep. Wake me when it’s time for dinner,” he mumbled as he closed his eyes, and soon drifted off with a peaceful look on his battered face.
Jesse leaned in and planted a gentle peck on his cheek. “You do that, slugger. I think you earned it.”
19
Colin spent two weeks in the hospital recuperating. At first, the doctors wanted to keep him longer due to the extent of his injuries. But, Finnegas snuck him an herbal concoction that sped up the healing process considerably, leading his doctors to declare his recovery a medical mystery. They also asked him to return for further studies, an offer which his mother first respectfully, then forcefully, declined.
As he got better, Jesse and Finnegas filled him in on what had happened in the days since his confrontation with the evil dwarf. Immediately after Colin had killed the Avartagh, Finnegas had gotten help from a real leprechaun in casting another spell on the town. This time it was to convince them that a tornado had swept through, which provided an explanation for all the damage and disarray. As Finnegas said, it was a thin excuse, but people seemed to believe what they wanted to believe, regardless of any evidence to the contrary.
Moreover, he’d enlisted the help of the local brownie clan to clean the accumulated filth from everyone’s homes, which served to cover up for the weeks the townsfolk had spent neglecting them. Finnegas and a few of the more amenable fae had also spent a few days tying up loose ends and plugging the holes in their cover story. Since then, everyone in the town had pretty much returned to their old lives. Thankfully, no one had a clue that they’d lived in a fantasy world for the better part of the last several weeks.
By the time Colin got out of the hospital, the town was looking much more like the one he remembered. Also his ankle was healed up enough to get around, and his ribs and hand were on the mend as well, thanks to the nasty-tasting but potent healing potion Finnegas had been making him drink every day. After a day spent at home doing nothing he complained of boredom, so Jesse offered to take him to see her dad’s new place of work.
Before he’d lost his job, Mr. Callahan had done something that had to do with accounting and bookkeeping, but that’s all Colin knew. Colin was relieved to know that Jesse’s dad had found a new job, but he didn’t understand what that had to do with him.
“Jesse, I’m really glad your dad is working and all, but I don’t understand why you want me to go see where he works. I’m tired of being indoors—can’t we just go hang out at the park?”
She arched an eyebrow at him, as if to say he wasn’t getting out of it no matter how much he complained. “I know you’ve been cooped up for weeks, and you don’t want to visit some boring old office. But trust me when I say you’re going to want to see this.”
Since neither teen owned a car, Colin’s mom dropped them off downtown. They walked the short distance to the warehouse district where most of the shipping and manufacturing businesses were located. Soon the pair turned a corner and walked up to a tidy-looking warehouse with a brown brick façade. Over the door was a small green sign with gold lettering that said “Éire Imports.”
Colin at his friend. “You have got to be kidding me.”
Jesse smiled and opened the door with a flourish of her hand as she bowed with mock courtesy. “After you.”
They walked into a small reception area, where a young and attractive red-headed receptionist sat behind the counter. She seemed to know Jesse fairly well and greeted them with a smile, pointing with her thumb to an entrance behind her.
“Your dad’s in his office, Jesse,” she said. Then she seemed to notice Colin for the first time, at which point she looked him over appraisingly. “And this must be the handsome hero who saved the mayor. Glad to see you’re up and about.”
Jesse smiled, eager at the opportunity to make introductions. “Colin, this is Maureen, the receptionist here at Éire Imports.” She nudged him gently and spoke quietly to him out of the side of her mouth. “Um, manners? Say something, nerd.”
Despite himself, Colin blushed. The receptionist was pretty and spoke with an Irish brogue, which Colin thought made her extra hot, and he just wasn’t used to receiving attention from attractive girls. Well, except for Jesse, but he’d never tell her that he thought she was attractive. He coughed into his hand nervously and smiled.
“Um, thank you, miss. I’m just glad the mayor is okay. I mean, after the—tragedy.”
The receptionist grinned pleasantly, then went back to her work as she replied. “Well, I’m sure it’s nothing that time and a little spell of forgetting won’t fix.”
Colin gave Jesse a questioning look, but Jesse just smirked and shook her head. “C’mon, let’s go say hi to my dad and his new boss.”
Jesse shoved Colin through the doorway and down a hall until they got to an office where Jesse’s dad sat behind a desk, tapping away furiously at a computer keyboard.
“Hi, Dad!” Jesse blurted with giddiness as they strolled into the office. It was apparent how glad she was that her dad was still gainfully employed. He remembered what it had been like for his family when his dad had died, and knew how stressful it could be when you weren’t sure where the next month’s house payment or groceries were coming from.
Mr. Callahan looked up and smiled. “Jesse—and Colin! What a surprise, come in, come in. Do you two want a soda or some water?” He turned and gestured toward a mini-fridge behind him. Colin looked around and took in his office. To be honest, it was pretty posh; it looked like Jesse’s dad had landed a pretty decent gig.
Jesse waved off her dad’s offer, which irritated Colin, since he was actually kind of thirsty. “Is Mr. Murphy around?”
Her dad nodded. “He is—and in fact he said to stop by to see him. Something about a book you wanted to borrow for a school assignment?”
“Yep. Thanks, Dad—I’ll go talk to him and introduce Colin. We’ll swing by before we leave.”
“Okay, let me know if you need a ride home.”
“Thanks, Dad!” Jesse saluted him, then dragged Colin farther down the hall. “Wait till you meet Dad’s new boss—you’re going to flip.”
“Why do I have a funny feeling I know him already?” he replied.
20
As they walked further down the hall, Colin recognized a familiar scent—a combination of pipe smoke, peat moss, and black tea. When they walked into the large office at the end of the hall Finnegas was there, puffing away on his pipe. He sat behind an enormous oak desk, polished to a sheen and detailed with elaborate scrollwork and carvings of dragons, horses, and various other wild beasts and creatures.
“Ah, there you are—and none the worse for the wear, I see. Looks as though the healing draught I gave you did the trick.” He winked, and frankly Colin thought it made him look like a skinny Santa Claus. He wondered for a moment if Santa Claus was real, too.
“Now, about that book you wanted to borrow.” He
turned to the wall behind him, which was covered floor to ceiling in books, many of which appeared to be quite old. “Ah yes, Celtic Myths and Legends—here it is. This should serve nicely as a primer for what you two can expect to be facing in the future.” He handed the book over to Jesse from across the desk.
Colin perked up at that remark and put his hands up in protest. “Wait a minute—just how far in the future do you mean by ‘in the future’? I figured since we took care of the Avartagh, that would be it for a while. You did notice that I almost died recently?”
Finnegas waved his protests off and gestured sternly at the chairs in front of his desk. “Sit, sit, the both of you. There’ll be enough time to talk about that later.”
Colin decided not to press the issue and sat down, swiveling his eyes around to check out the druid’s office. Shields and swords decorated the walls, as well as tapestries depicting battles from what he assumed were stories out of legend. He nodded appreciatively.
“So, this is your cover identity—pretty slick.”
The old man waved him off with an annoyed look. “Bah, you read too many comics. This is my livelihood. I’ve run this business since before you were born, right here from this office and building. Being a druid may have its perks, but it doesn’t pay very well, I’ll tell you that.”
Colin managed to look properly chastised and nodded. “So, you live here in town?”
Finnegas took a puff from his pipe and pointed at Colin with it. “Quite right. As I said, I’ve looked after the McCool family for quite some time. When your mother and father settled here many years ago, I moved my import-export business here so I could keep an eye on them. Your father actually worked for me for a few years after he left the service the first time, back before he re-upped when the war broke out.”
Colin wasn’t exactly stunned, but this was all news to him. He merely nodded and sat pensively as the old man spoke. Meanwhile, Jesse looked like a kid on Christmas morning, barely reining in her excitement as she bounced up and down on the edge of her seat.
