The Wild Hunt

by Thomas Galvin

  This clearing was smaller than the one behind the bed and breakfast, and less carefully maintained, but the energy flowing through the Circle was just as potent. They had constructed the same Circle within a Circle within a Circle, and established a ward at the outer edge. A bonfire burned at the very center, though no drake danced in these flames.

  The Asatru were arranged equidistant around the clearing, and they were, of course, naked. Warren’s demise hadn’t made them any smarter, apparently. The men stood facing the fire, flags at full staff, holding golden chalices. The women kneeled before them, pledging allegiance and grasping ceremonial daggers.

  That was an inversion of the usual ritual symbolism. Like a lot of modern magic, the imagery was all about sex; the dagger was a phallic object, and the chalice was, well, you get the idea. Normally in a paired ceremony the men would wield the blades and the women would hold the cups, but that wasn’t an absolute requirement. Switching implements was probably supposed to balance their energies or something, to help the men get in touch with their feminine side and vice versa.

  Jesus, the issues in the modern magical community would keep Freud busy for years.

  Ashlyn stood at the head of the circle, facing me, a chalice laying at her feet. Her eyes were closed and her hands were lifted high. Her voice droned, a quiet, repetitive monotone, almost trance-like.

  The Asatru ignored me, but if I was taking part in an outdoor wintertime orgy I’d probably be distracted, too. I sat down cross-legged in front of the Circle. I didn’t usually use a sigil to work magic, but the Asatru’s wards were strong enough that I needed extra focus to break through. I took out my pocket knife, thought for a moment, and started etching a design in the frigid ground.

  I ran my willpower through the sigil. The Asatru’s ward flashed and flickered, but my spell wasn’t enough to break through. Ashlyn opened her eyes and smiled at me. “Oh good. I was hoping you’d show up. We need a fifth sacrifice.”

  Mini-Thor opened his eyes and looked at her. “Fifth? We didn’t bring any sacrifices.”

  “Quiet!” Ashlyn hissed. “Don’t interrupt the ritual.” Mini-Thor shrugged and closed his eyes.

  I drew another sigil in the dirt and tried again. This one was a bit more successful, but whatever was fueling Ashlyn’s magic was strong. Her wards were damn near impenetrable, probably stronger than mine. I thought through the problem a bit, then started drawing another sigil.

  The chanting became more and more energetic, all except for Ashlyn, who remained creepily detached, and one by one the men enjoyed their little deaths. I ran power through the final sigil. Ashlyn’s ward burned bright, then crystalized, then shattered, the Æther fragmenting and scattering in the frigid wind.

  “Quickly!” Ashlyn shouted. The women jumped to their feet. The men stepped back and began to summon energies, ready to attack me, and I started to gather power for my own assault, but Ashlyn called out to her followers, “Finish! The! Ritual!”

  I stormed forward. The men kept wary eyes on me, but knelt and placed their cups on the ground. The women closed their eyes, cried out in old German, raised their daggers …

  And slashed the men’s throats. Blood fell, hot and thick, into the goblets. The men staggered back, eyes wide, mouths gaping, and fell. The women turned toward the fire.

  “Jesus Hopscotching Christ on a pogo stick!” I shouted. “What in the holy hell?”

  You know what? Fuck it. I sent a stream of blue-white light lancing toward Ashlyn. The High Priestess of the Asatru raised her hand. My spell slashed through the air, struck her palm, and just stopped. Energy pooled in front of her, a flashing, flaring globe. Ashlyn was completely unfazed. She laughed and pushed her hand forward. My spell rebounded, flying back at me, and slammed into my armor. My own spell lifted me off the ground and hurled me away.

  One by one Ashlyn visited the women, dipping a finger in their blood-filled goblets and drawing a sigil on their chests, then pouring the rest of the blood into her own chalice. When she had anointed the final witch, Ashlyn knelt down at the head of the circle, drew an emblem on her own skin, and drained her chalice dry.

  “Creepy vampire bitch,” I said, brushing myself off. The Valkyries appeared behind each of the women and Ashlyn raised her hands to the sky, crying out in ugly, hoarse German. The only words I recognized were “Frau Holda.” I threw another blast at Ashlyn, but she just sighed and waved her hands, raising another ward around the Circle’s perimeter.

  “Bloody hell,” I muttered, and started throwing energy into the ward breaking spell.

  The Asatru surrounded Ashlyn and laid hands on her. She closed her eyes and turned her palms to the sky, her head thrown back in pure rapture. The Valkyries laid their ephemeral hands on the women, who went into ecstatic convulsions. Ashlyn was babbling in Old Norse. The Asatru, enraptured by the Valkyries, spoke in tongues along with her.

  I threw everything I had into the ward breaker, but the magic barrier stood firm.

  “Holda, come forth!” Ashlyn cried out. The ground beneath the Asatru began to glow and a column of light erupted from the earth, cutting through the swirling clouds overhead like a searchlight. I threw my arms in front of my eyes, shielding them from the overwhelming luminosity of the Asatru’s spell.

  When the light cleared, Ashlyn stood bathed in light that had no source. Her very skin seemed to glow, and her eyes burned with green fire. “Ashlyn?” I asked.

  But Ashlyn was gone. Holda, the Matron of Witches, the Lady of the Winter, and the Queen of the Lord of the Hunt, stood in her place, in her body, surveying the ritual site. “This, my Sisters, is an acceptable sacrifice. And he,” she looked at me with flaming eyes, “will be an excellent dessert.”

  “May I, my Lady?” Swedish Bikini asked. Holda gestured her forward.

  The witch came toward me, eyes burning with the Valkyrie’s green power. The ward wavered around her, allowing her to pass. She didn’t throw magic, just came forward with clenched fists. I got into a fighting stance, waiting to see what the demon would throw at me.

  Swedish Bikini threw a big, loping haymaker, an amateur, ignorant attack. I raised one arm slightly to deflect it and prepared to counter punch, but the haymaker was just a feint; as soon as I shifted my weight the girl, driven by the Valkyrie’s thousands of years of combat experience, dropped into a crouch and sprang forward, propelled by inhuman strength. She hit me like a two ton wrecking ball. We flew backwards and smashed into a tree.

  The tree cracked, wood flying everywhere. The trunk groaned and creaked, but Swedish Bikini ignored it. She straddled me, one knee on the ground and one on my chest, pummeling me with fists that hit like hundred-mile-an-hour bowling balls. My armor blazed with energy, deflecting most of the impact, but Christ that was getting old.

  I wove my arm inside hers, stopping the punches coming at me from the left, then grabbed her hair and pulled her down close, making it even more difficult for her to attack me. While she struggled I wrapped my leg across her ankle and bucked my hips, throwing her off and to the side, which let me turn over and gain a dominant position. And then, because I’m a goddamn Saint and not a cage fighter, I unleashed a blast of white hot light from the fist grabbing her hair.

  It should have killed her. It should have snapped her neck like a twig, spun her head around like a twist-off top. Instead her chin just bounced off her chest, and she looked up at me with hateful, glowing eyes. She screamed, tore her arm free, and smashed me in the jaw.

  She didn’t have a lot of leverage, but damn it she had a lot of strength. I was rocked hard enough for her to free her legs and plant her heels in my chest. She kicked with all of her considerable might, and that was enough to send me into the air again.

  But that worked out for me, because the ruined tree was toppling over. The trunk groaned, wood snapped, and the giant pine landed right on top of Swedish Bikini, crushing her flat. “That’s right,” I said, brushing off my clothes. “So who’s next?”

  The tree started
to shake, and the witch threw the whole thing, all however-many hundred pounds of it, off of herself. I just stared at her. “Well. Huh. Son of a bitch.”

  Swedish Bikini got back to her feet. She was covered in dirt and pine sap, but otherwise no worse for wear. She growled and started toward me, but Sandra interrupted. “You had your chance. It’s my turn.”

  Holda nodded and Sandra threw her hands forward. Deadly black fog surrounded her and streamed toward me, thick, coiling tendrils of life-sucking mist. The magic reached the edge of the ward and moved through it seamlessly, launching toward my face like a viper.

  I crossed my arms in front of myself and poured my willpower into a shield. The air shimmered around me as the Æther coalesced. Sandra’s spell crashed into it like a tsunami, building up until black smoke was all I could see.

  Sandra was smart; she was still inside Holda’s ward, which meant my spells couldn’t reach her. But again my experience won out; the ward had moved aside for Sandra’s spell, and that spell was still connected to her, creating an opening for a counter attack of my own.

  I focused Æther into my right hand, let my ward drop, and sent a spear of light roaring back through the fog. It slashed through the darkness, raced through the hole in the ward, and struck Sandra like a rampaging bull. She screamed and flew backwards, landing in the bonfire.

  I quickly raised another ward and let it expand outward, dissipating the smoke. Sandra lay in the flames, completely unharmed. She stood up slowly, casually, and looked down at herself. “Huh. Neat.”

  Italian Princess stepped forward. “All right, my turn.”

  Holda held out her hand. “You are not yet ready, my Sisters. Strong though you may be, this mage is deceptively powerful. And honestly, this is boring the crap out of me. I think it’s time we hit the town.”

  I took a step backward, pouring more energy into my armor, bracing for Holda’s attack, but it never came. Sandra and Swedish Bikini moved back to Holda’s side. Holda put her fingers in her mouth and whistled. Moments later a quintet of wolves, one white and four black, emerged from the shadows. Not just wolves, but giant, muscular, slavering, red-eyed, god-damned monster wolves.

  A black bear followed the wolves out of the forest.

  It stared at me, hunger in its eyes.

  It roared, saliva dripping from its fangs.

  It pawed the ground and prepared to charge.

  “Damn it,” I muttered.

  Chapter Fourteen

  I’m not a bearologist, but I did know two things: one, the creature that wandered out of the woods should have been hibernating, and two, it shouldn’t have been so goddamned big. The thing was nearly eight feet at the shoulder and must have weighed half a ton. It raised its front paws off the ground and raked the air with claws that looked like tyrannosaurus teeth.

  I dropped my fists and let my arms hang down by my sides. “I should have finished law school.”

  Holda mounted the white wolf like a horse, and each of the witches claimed a mount of their own. With a kick of her heels, Holda urged her wolf forward. The creature leapt from the Circle, the ward shattering into mist, and sailed right over my head. The other wolves growled and raced after her, streaking past me on either side.

  I turned to watch them go. Behind me, the bear growled, loud and low. “Nice kitty?” I asked. The bear roared and launched itself toward me, moving far too fast for such a large creature. “Guess not.” I threw energy into my armor, let loose with a war cry, and met the goddamn bear in battle.

  The bear tried to stomp me into the earth, but my defenses were strong enough to bear–heh–its weight. Its claws raked across my armor, but the shell of Æther around me withstood the assault. The bear roared and slashed at me. The Æther blunted the knife-like claws, but the force was enough to knock me sideways. I stumbled and nearly fell.

  I channeled power into my fist. The bear reared up again, claws gleaming in the fire light, trying to trample me, but I threw a punch that blazed like a comet. My fist smashed into the bear’s chest. The stench of burning fur filled the air. The bear roared and flinched away, but quickly recouped and came after me again. I gathered power for another attack–

  The bear chomped down on my arm. The armor protected me, but my hand was trapped inside the thing’s massive jaws. The bear grumbled, almost like it was laughing, and its fiery eyes gleamed. I gathered more power around my left hand, ready to smash the creature’s skull, but the bear started whipping its head back and forth like a dog with a chew toy.

  I was ripped from my feet and flung into the air. My arm felt like it was being wrenched out of my shoulder. The bear lumbered forward, still flinging me back and forth, and dashed me against a tree. The air blasted from my lungs and my ribs felt like they were going to shatter.

  It felt like the bear kept up its assault forever, but it was probably less than thirty seconds. The creature dropped me on the ground and shambled off toward the tree line.

  I spat blood and pushed myself off the ground. “What, you chickening out now? Can’t take the heat? Running just when I start to get the upper hand?”

  The bear turned around, and I swear to God it sighed, like it was dealing with a particularly headstrong toddler. It plodded back toward me, its lips curling back to reveal teeth as long as my hand. It roared, its mouth gaping open so wide I could have parked the Jeep inside it.

  But instead I threw fire down its gullet. Both hands lit up with supernatural fire and I shoved them down the monster’s throat, to hell with the consequences. I disappeared into the thing’s maw, my head and shoulders all the way inside its mouth, but I didn’t care. Nothing survived my magic, not for long, my armor would protect me from the thing’s fangs, and damn it, I was going to finish this fucking fight.

  The bear glowed like a Jack O’ Lantern, its skull blazing from within. The stink was awful and the noise the monster made wasn’t much better. The creature shuddered, twitched, and finally fell over, a hulking, charred corpse.

  “God damn right,” I said, and leaned against a tree to catch my breath.

  I shambled back toward the campus, only stumbling a few times. The Asatru were long gone, but in my condition that probably wasn’t a bad thing. I fell into the Jeep’s front seat and closed my eyes for a few moments.

  I didn’t know where Holda went, and in all honesty I didn’t really care. The Asatru and the bear had both laid into me, and I was exhausted. I’d be lucky to light a candle with my magic, much less take on a goddess’ avatar. So instead of driving blindly through Mirrormont, I headed back to the bed and breakfast.

  I was lucky I didn’t get pulled over for drunk driving. My shoulder felt like a nuclear bomb had gone off and my ribs might as well have been loose gravel. The energy I had expended fighting the bear left me stretched out, like a balloon that had been just short of popping. Keeping my hands on the steering wheel was a titanic endeavor, and keeping the vehicle in between the white and yellow lines required herculean effort.

  The DuBois were still cleaning the kitchen when I arrived. I snuck past as quietly as I could and stood in front of the stairs. God, had there been so many of them that morning? The fight had left me feeling like a Red Sox fan in the bleachers of Yankee Stadium.

  I raised my right foot and put it on the first stair. Caught my breath. Loaded my weight. Stepped up, placing the left foot next to it. Sweat beaded on my forehead and my pulse echoed in my ears. And that was just one freaking step.

  I shook my head, took a deep breath, and tackled the next.

  Eventually, exhaustingly, I reached the top of the stairs. I pushed the door to my bedroom open, dropped my coat on the floor, and stumbled over to the bathroom. I didn’t even bother to turn the lights on; the moon was still bright enough to see by, and I didn’t think I could raise my hand to reach the switch. I somehow managed to get my clothes off before I stepped into the steaming shower. God that felt good. The hot water, not the nudity. I almost fell asleep standing up, but at least some of the tensio
n drained out of my muscles.

  I wrapped myself in a towel and limped back to the bedroom. I needed to begin my healing ritual, plaster myself back together as best I could. Then, in the morning, I could worry about tracking down Holda and the rest of the Asatru. I still had Ashlyn’s toothbrush and hair, but after being possessed by Holda, who knew if they would work? I needed something–

  The door burst open. Startled, I summoned a half-assed spell and whirled, well, turned gingerly, around. The spell might have warmed up a cup of coffee, but it didn’t matter. There were no demons or naked Hell Cats invading my sanctuary, only Miranda.

  “Jesus,” I muttered, dismissing the flame with a wave of my hand. “You can’t just barge in like that. If I was on my game tonight you’d be … what?”

  Miranda was staring at me and nibbling gently on her lip. “Um, sorry,” she said, pulling her eyes back to my face. “You shouldn’t wear so much baggy clothing.”

  “Is that what you came in here for?” I asked, looking around for a clean pair of anything.

  “No, sorry. There was a report on the news that I think you’d be interested–holy crap, what happened to you?” She turned the lights on, making me wince, and rushed over to my side. She traced her fingers gently over my skin. “Jesus, you’re one big bruise. I … God, I can see that your rib’s broken. What happened?”

  “I got attacked by a bunch of naked girls, then a bear tried to eat me.”

  “I … what?”

  “You heard me. A bunch of naked girls tried to kick my ass, and when it didn’t work they sicked their giant pet bear on me. He smashed me against a couple of trees six or seven dozen times, but I shoved my hands down his throat and made him explode.”

  Miranda stared at me for a good twenty seconds. “You are very, very weird.”

  I dug a pair of jeans out of my duffel bag and threw them on the bed, then started rummaging for a shirt. “So there was a news report?”