He waved nonchalantly to the seats all stacked against the wall. “Grab yourselves some seats and gather around!”
There was a general clamor as five chairs were clumsily dragged across the floor. Loch closed his eyes until there was silence. He opened his eyes and started to speak.
Creak, CRASH!
Liev lay sprawled out on the ground, muttering in Russian. His chair, rotten through, crumbled as soon as he sat down.
Everyone, including Lisa, let loose a chorus of laughter. Brushing splinters from his white jeans, Liev chose another chair for himself and dragged it next to his sister—somehow more noisily than all the other chairs before it.
“Are you done?” Loch asked.
In answer, Liev gave his brightest, most sarcastic smile.
“As you might have noticed,” began Loch, “Hunter’s Key was not built in any orthodox method. At first glance, there might be no apparent rhyme or reason to it.”
“You’ve got that right,” Darcy muttered.
She had been surprised to find the Key in such a state of crookedness and disrepair. Something about the place had been bothering her all day.
Loch pulled the drawer of the desk out, still sitting atop it, and pulled out a large, folded piece of paper. He held one end and let the paper fall open. On it were drawn four ornate keys, all the same: A circular head at the top, and a long neck that led to the two teeth that jutted out from the bottom end, and a strange little protrusion stretching past the neck. The drawings looked vaguely familiar.
They realized the drawings were not keys at all. Loch smiled as he saw comprehension dawn on their faces, one by one.
They were maps. Four maps for the four main floors of Hunter’s Key. The Library made up the Key’s round head, and the long hallways and Main Body made up the neck, while the horse stables—now garages—were the teeth of the Key.
Nash slapped his forehead.
“That’s right,” said Loch. “Hunter’s Key was built in the shape of a key. Novel idea, isn’t it? But there was purpose behind it. You see, before Hunter’s Grove was founded, this area was the location of a gateway to the Otherworld; the world of monsters. Underneath this very hill are hundreds of ley lines. You, smarty pants,” he barked, pointing at Lisa. “I’m guessing you know about ley lines?”
Lisa nodded.
“Tell your friends what they are then. Go on.”
She squared her shoulders, grinning.
“Ley lines are lines of magic that run throughout the earth. I know certain creatures can travel through ley lines. But more importantly, many people think that when these lines intersect, big things happen.”
Darcy shook her head. “Big things, like?”
“Like gateways, girl,” said Loch.
Charlie recalled the glowing lines underneath the Key he had seen with the Sight, all joining under the white bridge. “Those are the lines I saw, weren’t they?”
Loch nodded.
“What lines?” asked Nash.
“Up on the Teeth Wing Tower,” explained Loch, “none of you could see it with your oculi, but Charlie—with the Sight—saw ley lines.”
“There were hundreds of them,” said Charlie. “A lot of them ran under the Key, where the holding cells were. And all of them met under a white bridge behind the Key.”
“Right,” said Loch, taking over. “The builders of Hunter’s Key built the holding cells above a large grouping of ley lines. There are holes in each cell. The general idea was each holding cell would be built with a magic current that would suck up the monsters traveling across the ley lines. For the most part, it worked. In fact, that little scab is currently residing in one of them now.
“As Charlie noticed, many of these lines converge on a single spot, the small bridge behind the mansion. That’s where the gateway to the Otherworld is. Now, two hundred years ago, the founders of Hunter’s Grove were trying to stop a particularly nasty monster from passing through: The Dark Prince, the same varcolac whose diary you found. After many battles, in which many good people died, the Hunters had pushed the monsters back through the gateway. They held them there, just long enough to build the Key, which in itself is magic. Hunter’s Key is what keeps the bridge closed—locked, if you will. But the old magic is waning.
“I was hoping the Dark Prince was still safely locked away, but this,” he said, pulling out the diary. “This diary, and the missing persons of the last two years, proves that the varcolac’s servants are getting through. He’s trying to get through, too. I can’t let that happen. He’s a cruel creature, coming from a very old line of varcolacs. The Dark Prince believes he should rule over everything. But worse than that, he’s mentioned something about ‘the Ancients’. If he’s talking about what I think he is…he cannot be allowed to wake these Ancients. Luckily he can’t get through just yet. But his Lesser can.”
“What are the Lesser?” asked Darcy. “And the Greater? I keep hearing about them.”
“A good and important question, Darcy.”
She ducked her head.
“The Greater and Lesser are two classes of monsters. If you’re a monster, you are either a Greater or a Lesser, and that dictates your social rank, your range of power. That scabby tomte, he’s a Lesser. This Varcolac Prince? He’s a Greater. In essence, the Lesser are servants and underlings of the Greater. Usually.”
“But the Greater can’t get through the portal, when the Lesser can?” Charlie asked.
“I believe you’re right. I don’t fully understand how the Hunters created the Key, but as far as I can tell, the Greater are too big and bulky with their powerful magic and gifts to get through the locked gateway. The barrier that the Key creates has holes these days, but they’re not small enough to pass through those holes. On the other hand, some of the Lesser, who have smaller gifts, naturally, are small enough to pass. But those holes are growing larger. Do you all understand so far?”
A collective, “Yes,” was murmured.
“Good. Since you all volunteered to kill the village vampire, and were unsuccessful in your first attempt, I’m going to tell you how to do it.”
The gang shifted uneasily.
“What do you mean?” asked Lisa.
Loch sighed. It was time for them to know the truth.
“For some reason I, like the varcolac, can’t pass through the gateway. I don’t understand why. The Key shouldn’t block me, but whenever I try to cross over, I can’t. Perhaps the varcolac is blocking me. Either that or the Key’s magic is so old and broken that it’s locked the gateway both ways. So…you’re going to do it.”
“What?” cried Darcy. “Don’t we have any say in the matter?”
“Miss, I believe you have some say in every matter, whether it’s yours to say or not.”
“So what,” asked Lisa, “you’re just going to send us over to our doom to try and kill some super-vampire?”
“Didn’t you try to do the same thing last night of your own accord?” Loch inquired, raising an eyebrow.
“Well, yeah, but….”
“But what?”
Lisa closed her mouth.
Charlie stood, commanding their attention.
“We made the decision last night. Twice. We did when the Dark Prince tried to scare us off, and once before we entered the tunnel. We couldn’t let people keep disappearing, not when we had the power to stop it. Now we find out that the varcolac is more powerful than we thought and that he’s about to break through the gateway. Hunter’s Grove will be destroyed. We still have a job to do. The only thing that’s changed is that now it’s more important to get it done.”
Loch watched him with an inner smile. The boy would make an excellent leader—if he lived long enough.
“But that’s the problem,” said Lisa seriously. “We didn’t know the varcolac was that much of a threat. If Loch could subdue us so easily last night, then what will the varcolac be able to do? No offense,” she added to Lo
ch.
“None taken,” Loch said. “But let me remind you, girl, throughout history there have been battles in which handfuls of warriors have defeated armies of thousands. With just a little hope, an oppressor can be overthrown. I can teach you how to do that—how to fight. But you all have to make the choice. Will you run away as cowards? Or will you do what you know in your hearts is right?”
There was a definite pause in conversation.
“Well,” said Liev. “When you put it that way….”
“We’ll do it,” said Charlie.
Loch nodded.
“I thought you might say that.”
The Chief of Assistants had to use human means of trickery here, since none of his magic seemed to work in the cell. Finally, after hours upon hours of grinding down the chain of his shackles against the floor with his ghastly strength, the crumbling chain broke. Moving quickly now, spilling his pail of milk in the process, the Chief of Assistants bent the disfigured piece of metal into a jagged rod-shape. He shuffled over to the cell door and rammed the makeshift blade in the lock, shattering it. The cell door swung open on its hinges.
He had to hurry, he knew. The master had stopped watching him some time ago, but he was afraid the master might try to look through his eyes at any moment.
The Chief of Assistants took a deep breath, his small heart fluttering. What he was going to do next would either be his best thieving yet, or his death. But if he was going to survive the master’s wrath, it would have to be done.
And then there was the matter of escaping the Hunter.
After looking both ways down the deserted hall of cells, he ran through the dungeons of Hunter’s Key.
Loch watched as each of them displayed their gifts. He had either seen or heard about most of these gifts, and he gave them tips on how to use them more effectively. The only gift new to him was Nash’s storm-stepping, but it was simple in nature—a powerful and potent fighting ability. Loch gave his students suggestions and exercises to do that would help them to realize new applications of their gifts, both in and out of battle.
Though, right now, his main concern was with them surviving a battle.
“You two, Black and White,” he called out to the twins. “Your gift is certainly unique. But it’s very wild. You’ve got to make the energy stream more solid, without losing its flow. And don’t be afraid to use it as a weapon to defend with, not just a net for catching with.”
The Vadiknovs grunted, intrigued but very tired.
“Why do we have gifts?” asked Nash after blasting a rotted old chair with a small, contained lightning bolt.
A stray chair leg flew through the air toward Darcy’s head. It phased harmlessly through her head, but she scowled at Nash anyway.
“That’s a good question,” said Loch. “Many of the more scholarly Hunters have asked why all humans and monsters are endowed with one or more gifts—”
“No, I mean, why do we have gifts, all of us, in this room? Why did we discover ours, but other people never do.”
Loch smiled, leaning back in his chair. “An even better question.”
“Wait,” said Liev. “You’re not going to tell us that greatness falls on some people, are you? Because I already knew I was awesome.”
“I’m going to ignore that,” said Loch. “Every human being has a gift. Some people discover it when they stub their toe on a piece of furniture. Some when they come in contact with a monster. But most people have forgotten about the boogeyman or trolls under the bridge. They’ve given up on magic and, if we’re honest, they’ve given up on their dreams. It’s hard to be extraordinary, Nash, because it involves change. It’s easier not to change, not to accept that you have to get better—be better. So most people never discover their gift, or a greater purpose. Does that answer your question?”
Nash nodded. “I think so.”
He was frowning, and so were the others. Not because they didn’t understand, but because they understood him far too well.
Next, Loch had them working on hand-to-hand combat, simple routines meant to make the motions of attack and defense feel natural, and lethal.
Charlie was not doing so well. The others were picking up on Loch’s instructions, but fighting did not come naturally to him like it did to Nash. He wasn’t confident like Darcy, or scrappy like the twins. Even their gifts were more useful in combat than his was. He was Charlie Sullivan, daydreamer galore, with a gift that let him see things. What was he supposed to do with that when a monster charged him?
Darcy broke through Charlie’s weak block and punched his shoulder.
“Darcy,” called Loch. “You and Lisa take a turn.”
Darcy nodded, more than happy to pick a fight with Lisa Vadiknov. The two girls started practicing the back and forth routine, perhaps a bit more roughly than before.
Loch waved for Charlie. “Come here. What’s wrong, boy?”
Charlie wiped the sweat off his brow and shrugged. “What do you mean?”
“You seem to be having a bit of trouble. What’s stopping you from fighting back?”
“I don’t know. I’m not used to it.”
“You’re not ready to fight, and yet last night you came here to kill a varcolac?”
Charlie’s shoulders slumped. Loch was right. What good was he to them?
The old Hunter smiled knowingly. “They look up to you, you know.”
Charlie’s head snapped up. “What?”
“Your friends look to you for direction. I’ll bet it was you that brought them all together, wasn’t it?”
“We all needed to work together,” said Charlie. “I didn’t do it.”
Loch raised an eyebrow. “You’re telling me that those four put aside their differences and all decided to get along by themselves?”
“Well, I guess I suggested—.” He stopped midsentence, thinking it over.
“And they took your suggestion. Whether they know it or not, they follow your lead. When they walk through that gateway, they’ll look to you for direction. You’re the one that will keep them together. And for that, you have to be strong. Stronger than you’ve ever dared to be before.”
Charlie nodded slowly. He was both invigorated and terrified.
Loch patted him on the back. “Now get on over there, and show me the stuff you’re made of.”
They trained hard for hours. Purpose and a hint of desperation saturated the air. And though it was physically draining, they soon were slipping into each other’s defenses, attacking and retreating, blocking.
Loch knew from personal experience how the Otherworld would strengthen their abilities, natural and otherwise. It would heighten their senses and sharpen their movements. Their gifts would become more potent, and they would be able to think more quickly on their feet. Soon, he thought, they could start weapons training.
And then a bell rang, a small sound that told Loch something was wrong.
He sighed, frustrated, and ran into his makeshift security room. Loch looked at the wall chart telling which room the string ran to and cursed under his breath. The scab had escaped. Several other bells rang in quick succession, telling Loch which direction the monster was running, and how fast.
“Alright, that’s good for today,” Loch said, abruptly running into the room, shotgun by his side. He flew around like a tornado, gathering small tools from his desk. “Go home and work on what I’ve given you. I have some, er, unexpected business to attend to. Nash, try not to zap your parents at home, yes? Make your own way out, and close the passage if you would. And don’t touch anything. I will personally hunt you down.”
And, just like that, he was gone.
They each stared at one another, unsure of what to do.
“Well,” said Darcy, “let’s finish our exercises.”
“Good idea,” said Charlie.
An hour later, the front doors to the Key opened slowly. Very slowly, considering how heavy they were.
The group was hav
ing an excited conversation. Despite the task ahead, spirits were high. In just three days, they had gone from small town middle school students to super-powered Hunters-in-training.
The only person not truly animated was Darcy. Loch had answered a lot of her questions about the supernatural forces they were dealing with. She had even gained insight about why her mother….
Darcy stopped herself mid-thought, wiping a tear away so the others would not see.
Loch had not answered every question, nor could he.
“Hey guys,” said Darcy, stopping them just as they entered the woods. “What do you think about stopping in at Tavern’s before we turn in for the night?”
Charlie, Nash, Lisa and Liev looked around, slightly shocked. Was Darcy offering to hang out?
“Sure,” said Liev with a grin. “But only if you’re buying.”
“Oh, I’m not thinking dinner,” she said quickly. “I’m thinking answers.”
Now they were all very interested.
“What have you got in mind?” asked Charlie.
The Chief of Assistants was long gone after Loch had reached the edge of the trees. His right iris red, he could see the trail of magic the scab had left in his flight, and followed it. But after running for five minutes through the woods, Loch saw that the trail looped in on itself and circled seven or eight trees. The little tomte had tricked him.
He cursed.
The Chief of Assistants had escaped.
Some miles away the Chief of Assistants slowed to a stop. He had used magic to quickly leave a false trail for the Hunter, but after that he had run along the tree branches. It was hard not being able to rely on his magic. It was just as hard to run fast without leaving a trace.
Charlie Sullivan and the Monster Hunters: The Varcolac's Diary Page 12
