Somewhere in the midst of it all two Witheringtons—mother and daughter—found each other for a long awaited reunion. They hugged each other, letting silence say everything that words could not.
Darcy buried her face in her mother’s shoulder. “I missed you so much.”
“I missed you, too. Let’s go home.”
The humans and their single monster companion marched unhindered through the Otherworld, back to the black gate and the smoke-like light of the gateway. For better or worse, all were free. Humans and monsters alike.
Soon, the four remaining Hunters would have to face the consequences of the Dark Prince’s defeat. But for now, they could return home and enjoy this bittersweet victory.
Chapter 13: The Lights of Hunter’s Grove
Loch sat on a creaky old lawn chair in the Key’s garden, cradling his shotgun like a pillow. One eye was blue, the other a blood red as he kept a worried eye on the gateway. The magical membrane over it had deteriorated hours ago. He would sit here either to welcome back his five young students…or to give the Dark Prince all the fight left he had in him.
His young Monster Hunters had left not long after sunrise, and now the sun was setting. He feared it would be the Prince who came over that white bridge, not Charlie and the others.
Loch sat upright, his shotgun at the ready, when the gateway regurgitated the figures onto the bridge. Over a dozen people tripped and fumbled over each other, trying unsuccessfully to recover from the dimensional jump. Something came in after them—something big—but it moved quickly and hid itself within the garden.
However, Loch was more concerned with the humans rolling around in agony on the bridge. For a moment, he was too shocked to speak.
It was done. They had actually done it.
Loch stood up and shook his head, trying to regain his grumpy composure. He put his hand on his hips and gave his most disapproving scowl.
“I hope I never looked this bad crossing a gateway.”
Among the newcomers, Elizabeth Witherington winced.
“Hush, old man! I didn’t see you there when the varcolac’s castle fell.”
“Elizabeth! It’s been too long. I was hoping you’d come back in one piece.”
Loch moved to help her up.
“Not sure about the one piece,” Elizabeth grumbled.
“Wait,” said Darcy. “You knew, Loch? You knew my mother was over there and you didn’t say anything?”
“Slow down, girl. I wasn’t sure she would be alive. I only knew when this one came back and told me,” he said, jerking his thumb at Dräng. “I would’ve strangled his scrawny neck then and there, if he hadn’t introduced me to Fish and Dink. Good friends to have, these two.”
He held a hand out to help them up.
“The victory’s even sweeter,” Loch continued, “seeing just how many others survived the Dark Prince. I’m sure this will restore Hunter’s Grove its happiness.”
“But not everyone,” said Nash.
A sadness suddenly settled over the group.
“The varcolac killed Mrs. McBranson. And….”
Suddenly, it hit Loch. His shoulders slumped as he realized there were only four of his young Hunters—their white knight missing.
“Where’s Liev?” he asked, his tone downtrodden.
A small whimper escaped Lisa. She hid her face from the others as Darcy put an arm around to comfort her.
Charlie stared at the ground.
“Liev…didn’t make it,” he managed.
Loch nodded. “I’m so sorry.”
Lisa shook her head. She understood why Loch was apologizing—he felt responsible. But she also knew Liev better than anyone. Had her brother known before hand, he would have made the same choice. Remembering his bandaged thumb, some part of her wondered if Liev had known. But the thought ruined her, and she pushed it out of mind.
“Why don’t we get inside,” Loch asked softly. “We can have some hot cocoa and talk where it’s warm.”
He ushered them inside, turning back to the garden before going inside himself. He walked over to where the big stone beast hid, taking in the miserable creature.
The gargoyle was beat up pretty bad. It carried its right foreleg in its beak, laying it down at Loch’s feet. There were several cracks along its body, and several pieces of its face including a horn had broken off during battle.
“You’re in a bad state, aren’t you?”
The gargoyle quietly bellowed in response. Loch looked it in the eye and almost fell over in shock, realizing the moisture running down its face was, in fact, tears. No one had ever heard of a gargoyle crying—they just were not built for that sort of thing.
With a grating noise, the gargoyle fell over. Loch was worried it was dying, but soon realized it was trying to hand him something with its one good foreleg.
Loch held out his hands, his heart breaking at what the gargoyle was giving him. It was a shirt, shredded nearly to pieces. It had been white at one point, but was now bloody and filled with dirt and grime.
“You stayed with him till the end,” said Loch. “Didn’t you?”
The beast nodded, letting its head fall to the ground.
Loch bent down to pet it reassuringly.
“You did your best, and you got the other four of them home—safe, and alive. There is nothing to be ashamed of. Rest now. I’ll make sure you’re fixed up, nice and smooth again, after you’ve been static for a while.”
The gargoyle nodded sadly, taking back Liev’s destroyed shirt in its big claws. It lay down as comfortably as it could manage before drying up and becoming a immobile piece of stone once more.
Hot cocoa was nice, but after spending days, weeks, or years in the Otherworld, the missing people of Hunter’s Grove were starving. With the help of Fish and Dink, Loch brought in a dusty table laden with microwave dinners: Salisbury steak, macaroni and cheese, and chicken nuggets. Loch would have been upset that all of his month’s food stores were being eaten, had it not been for a good cause.
As the small crowd sat around the fireside of one of the Key’s better kept parlors, they discussed the events that had passed in the Otherworld. Darcy and Nash took turns telling the story of their journey, with the help of some of the missing like Elizabeth Witherington and Robert Wickles, Donnie’s “crazy” uncle. Lisa and Charlie focused on eating, neither of them feeling the need to recount their time in the Otherworld.
Loch praised them for their astounding accomplishments and left it at that. Coming to grips with their sacrifice—Liev’s sacrifice—would take time.
As would their acceptance of further training.
Dräng chugged down his hot cocoa, furiously licking the bottom of the mug for any residual cocoa. Slurping and snorting, he looked over the top of his mug to the silent group of humans watching him.
Dräng might have been a monster, but he had also served royalty, acted as a diplomat, and overseen scores of castle servants. He realized how rude he was being and raised his mug in explanation.
“This,” he said sheepishly, “is not custom from where I come. This ‘ko-ko-a’, as you call it, must be from that heavenly time before the Ancients. A most pleasant communion.”
“It’s called hot ‘cocoa’,” said Loch. “Might want to wipe off your muzzle, though.”
Dräng crossed his eyes to see his nose. He gave up, lapping his forked tongue up and around. His eyes rolled back, tasting the cocoa lost on the tip of his nose and corners of his mouth.
“Ah. Delightful.”
After all they had gone through, everyone giggled and laughed at the silliness of a cocoa-loving monster. Even Lisa cracked a single-sided grin. She remembered just days ago, trying to catch the little domovoi with her brother.
“What about this little domovoi?” she asked. Her raspy voice silenced the room. “Where does he go from here?”
Loch pursed his lips and took a deep breath as he gazed
upon Dräng.
“He could stay with me,” Lisa continued.
“We’ll see. He has a home here or with you, regardless. He’s shown his colors true. We will need to consult with your parents, especially considering…. One step at a time.” Looking at Dräng, Loch nodded. “Either way, your home is with us for now.”
“Home,” Dräng whispered to himself, “I have a home again. I am full of happy! It has been many, many years since that.”
Everyone grinned at the little monster.
“Please, if I may ask of you or you,” he said, looking at Loch and Lisa. “No matter where I live, will we be certain to have more of this?”
Dräng lifted his mug and smiled impishly.
Laughter broke through the quiet, even if for a moment.
Finally, Loch turned to the two unknown prisoners, whose captivity was a mystery to him. They were given new clothes, and now sat devouring their second and third platefuls of food. Neither looked to be in very good shape, even with the new clothes they had been given. “And what about you two? What’s your story?”
“Priest,” said the older of the two men, barely looking up. “My name is Priest.” He swept his dirty gray hair out of his face before taking another bite of steak. It had been so long since he had eaten, sustained only by the Dark Prince’s will.
“I am Chen,” said the other. His hands were shaking. “The Dark Prince took us not long before the others could finish building the Key.”
“Finish the Key? Surely, you don’t mean finish building Hunter’s Key? How long have you two been in the Otherworld?” Loch asked.
Priest looked up slowly, breathing slow and heavy through his beard. “I noticed things look a little different than last time we were here, but…. What…what century is it?”
“The twenty-first century.”
Priest dropped his head, nodding slowly.
Chen’s hands stopped shaking, for just a moment. “Then it has been two hundred years,” he said. “Two hundred years since we started building the Key.”
Darcy’s jaw fell open. Charlie shared raised eyebrows with Nash and Lisa. These two men were part of the group that had first built Hunter’s Key. They were old Monster Hunters.
The missing residents of Hunter’s Grove looked around at each other in awe. They had never heard of such a thing—living over two hundred years. And what must it have been like, trapped under the Dark Prince’s spell for that long? The short time they themselves had spent in Blood Castle had been more than enough.
“I’m sorry,” said Loch. “I’m sure this is all very strange to you. We’ll make sure you’re taken care of, but right now we need to make sure these people get back to their homes.”
“Go ahead,” said Chen, setting down his fork to stare at his food.
Priest shook, but they couldn’t see behind the curtain of matted hair. “The Good Lord knows their families have missed them,” he said.
“Right,” said Loch. “I’ll be back in a little while, then, and catch you up on…everything that’s happened since you’ve been gone.”
Everyone hurried out of the room, feeling the two men should have a moment to cope with the news. They also were anxious to go to their respective homes.
As they all walked down the front steps of Hunter’s Key, Loch pulled Charlie aside with urgency.
“Did you kill the varcolac, or capture him?”
“He was too strong for us. I used the mirror.”
“The mirror. Do you have it then?”
Charlie nodded and took out the thin black box, handing it over gladly.
Loch gingerly stowed it inside his coat. “He’s in here?”
Charlie nodded again. “What are you going to do with it?”
“I’ll put it somewhere safe, like the diary. Just more junk to be hidden away in the Key. You did good, m’boy.”
“It wasn’t just me.”
“It wasn’t at all. But every group needs a leader. You are their leader. You’ll have to learn all I know, for the next time you all come across anything supernatural.”
Astonished and somewhat confused, Charlie looked up with wide eyes.
“What do you mean? Didn’t we just stop the varcolac?”
“You did, but there are always threats out there, Charlie. And I’m afraid there will be more threats in the world, after today.”
“What do you mean?” he repeated.
“Centuries ago, the Dark Prince gathered a large force of monsters and moved to a small, concealed section of the Otherworld—the same you and your friends just came through. For years, Hunters around the world have been keeping the rest of the monster population in check. But after the Dark Prince was defeated, all of his servants would have been released from their contracts.”
“I still don’t understand what this has to do with us.”
“When you defeated the varcolac, Charlie, where do you think all those monsters went? They didn’t just disappear. They went back.”
Realization dawned on Charlie, but just then a white truck interrupted their conversation.
It sped out of the trees, driven by an emotionally distraught William Witherington. Unable to bear the loss of his daughter any longer, the mayor intended to have it out with the current inhabitant of Hunter’s Key and find out where she had gone.
The truck came to a screeching halt, letting out a shaking Mayor Witherington. But then he stared through bleary eyes at the group coming down the Key’s steps. He knew those people. It was impossible.
He saw Darcy. She smiled and waved to him. And then he saw the woman beside her.
All plans of boxing with Loch flying out of his mind, William Witherington ran—stumbled—weeping and yammering with arms outstretched, until he collided with his family. The three melted into a synchronized hug.
From the steps, Loch and Charlie watched, both weary despite victory.
“We’ll talk later,” said Loch. “Right now, we should get these people to their homes.”
“What are you going to tell the town about the monsters?” asked Charlie.
“What’s in your head, boy? I’m not telling them a thing about the monsters. We don’t reveal monsters to the world. People lose their heads.”
People lost their heads. It wasn’t often that Mayor Witherington called a town meeting anymore. Tonight he didn’t just call it, he insisted that everyone bring their families and make a banquet—no, a feast—of the special occasion.
Of course, no one knew what the occasion was yet.
Somebody was madly ringing the town bell. People came out of their homes, sticking their heads out to see what was happening. Neighbors mingled, asking each other if they knew why.
Nobody knew why, of course, but in a town like Hunter’s Grove the “why” was usually afterthought. More than willing to partake of free food, families readied themselves for a rare night on the town. With so many out, Hunter’s Grove seemed warmer than usual, livelier.
Very few people had made it to Town Hall when the parade started. Those who had were called out of the large building. They came quickly, already hearing the ruckus.
The mayor had borrowed a trailer full of hay to attach to his truck, driving all across Hunter’s Grove on his way to Town Hall. His round cheeks were rosy from laughter, and tears clouded his eyes. He looked, for all the world, like a well-dressed Bacchus—a concerning sight, since he was driving.
No one had seen Mayor Witherington so happy…ever. Certainly not in the last two years. His joyful attitude spread among the people infectiously, even before they saw who else was in the truck. Because sitting next to the mayor in the front seat was his daughter, Darcy—looking grimy and a little scratched up—and between them….
The townsfolk on the streets stared. What they were seeing was impossible.
Sitting between the mayor and his daughter was Elizabeth Witherington, dirty, tired, and very pale, but smiling and waving
like a princess on some float.
People stopped in their tracks, Town Hall momentarily forgotten. As they stood frozen in shock, the truck passed, and they saw more passengers sitting in the truck bed, like a festival hayride.
Three teens rode in the back, along with Fish and Dink, who everyone recognized warily. They were dirty and beat up, much like Darcy had been. Almost as if they had just stepped off of a battlefield. And sitting with them on stacks of hay were ten individuals whose faces had been lost until now—the missing townspeople of Hunter’s Grove.
The more people who saw the small single-vehicle parade, the bigger the confounded crowd got, all the way to Town Hall.
Mayor Witherington nearly crashed into Town Hall’s steps. He flung himself from the truck and jogged up, turning around at the top step. The crowd had just barely caught up when he spread his arms wide, entrancing them.
“My good townspeople! Tonight I want you to stop for a moment, and remember those of us who have gone missing. Because today they have come home.”
The ones who had gone missing searched through the crowd, running to lost friends and families, causing clusters of happy, hysterical people to form. Little Bobby Muldor found his parents, sobbing with joy, while Robert Wickles found his brother in the crowd. Charlie watched from the back of the truck as Donnie Wickles walked up to his uncle, tears in his eyes.
Knowing a big story when he saw one, the town’s leading reporter took a pencil and paper from his pocket. He thrust his arm in the air, calling out above the chattering crowd with a loud, bossy expertise.
“Mayor Witherington! Sir! Can you expound on where these people, our friends and family members, have been?”
The townsfolk quieted, wanting desperately to know what had happened to their loved ones.
“They were abducted by monsters,” said Mr. Witherington.
“You mean kidnappers?” the reporter led on. “What leads do you have as to—”
“Not kidnappers…monsters. Vampires, werewolves, goblins. Or so I’m told.”
Charlie Sullivan and the Monster Hunters: The Varcolac's Diary Page 22
