by M. D. Massey
Crowley whispered to us at one such interval. “We’re almost to the stairs. Wait for me here while I check to see if it’s clear above.”
He vanished into the shadows again, leaving Sabine and I exposed, save for the natural darkness around us. I sat there watching for Crowley’s return when Sabine poked me in the back.
“Company!” she hissed.
I turned and saw torchlight coming up the hallway toward us.
“Crap. There’s nothing for it—we’ll have to follow Crowley and hope for the best. C’mon.”
I took off in a crouch, moving as fast as I could while keeping a low profile. We turned a corner and I saw stairs thirty feet down the corridor, but they were well-lit and exposed. The only consolation was that the landing above was cloaked in blessed, welcome darkness.
I searched for the shadow wizard, but Crowley was still nowhere to be seen. The sound of footsteps and approaching torchlight told us time was running out. If we were spotted, chances were good the red caps would alert their fellow clan members, and then we’d be really screwed.
“Shit, Sabine, we’ll just have to make a run for it. Head up the stairs, now—I’ll be right behind you.”
Sabine did as I asked. I paused to gauge how close the patrol was to seeing us. Too late, I realized they were right on top of me.
I drew my blade and pistol, hoping the sound of suppressed fire wouldn’t echo in the corridor. Then I backed against the wall, waiting until the last moment to spring my ambush.
I felt someone brush my shoulder, just as I was getting ready to pounce. It was Sabine. I scowled and held the gun barrel to my lips to caution her to silence. She narrowed her eyes and flipped me off as if to say, You’re the dumbass who didn’t run. Then, she drew her sword.
I wasn’t sure if I liked the new, sassy Sabine who was showing her claws and teeth on this trip, but now wasn’t the time to voice a protest. The footsteps and torchlight were getting closer, and the patrol was almost upon us. I plastered myself to the wall and counted down to contact.
3…2…1… Yahtzee!
I pivoted out from behind the wall, firing my pistol. Time slowed and my field of vision narrowed. The first red cap I hit was a squat little barrel of a dwarf wearing crude leather and bone armor. Human bones, or maybe fae. Two to the chest and one to the head, and I was pivoting to the next fighter as the first dropped.
I double-tapped two more red caps with shots to the chest and head, capitalizing on the “oh shit, we’re being ambushed” response that caused most people to freeze during a surprise attack. I wasn’t as good as Belladonna with a gun, but I could hit three steel plates at fifteen yards in under three seconds from a standing draw. Three seconds was an eternity in a fight, but it was all I needed to take them out before they could react.
After I dropped those two, it was bedlam. The other three members of the patrol charged me, and I found myself fighting two of them with my sword in my non-dominant hand. That was my first mistake.
They swung axes and clubs made from bone and volcanic glass, and I knew the edges on those things were razor sharp. I blocked one swing with my sword while stepping back… then tripped over Sabine as she was moving into position to help me.
Mistake two, always clear a line for the man behind you. Brother, but I was slipping. I hadn’t practiced team tactics in a while, and I wasn’t thinking about my other team member. Sabine went sprawling, her sword clattering across the floor. I fell on my ass with two red caps coming at me, and a third right behind them who was zoning in on Sabine.
I had ten rounds left in the magazine, and I used them all by shooting a classic El Presidente drill: two shots center mass on each target, with a repeat until the slide locked back. All hits. Unfortunately, people didn’t always die the instant you shot them in the torso. Sometimes, it took the body a while to realize that it was dead.
Thus, one of the red caps was still charging me, yelling bloody murder and swinging at my head. Sabine was doing her best to crawl out from under me, because I’d pinned her legs when I’d fallen. I had my sword in my left hand, my pistol in my right, and this red cap was swinging for the fences with a huge razor-sharp axe made of volcanic glass.
Blocking one-handed with a sword against a heavier weapon was always going to end up badly. Nevertheless, I raised the flat of my blade, attempting to brace it with my pistol. Awkward, but it might have kept me from getting my head chopped off.
Time slowed as the red cap’s attack sliced through the air at my head. It was funny what you noticed at times like these. The red cap was roaring his battle cry and baring his chompers as he attacked, and I noticed he had spinach or something stuck in his teeth. How odd, I thought. I always assumed they only ate meat.
Like I said, it was weird what you noticed and thought about right before you were going to die.
A split-second before impact—which would have likely resulted in a failed block and a loss of cranial attachment for yours truly—a huge shadowy arm flew overhead and punched the red cap in the chest, knocking him off his feet. Then, it grabbed the little guy and bounced him off the walls and floors until something went crunch.
I collapsed in relief, with Sabine still trying to squirm out from under me. Dead red caps were scattered all around. I looked behind me and, of course, Crowley stood there.
His hood swiveled back and forth at me, Sabine, and the red caps. Even upside down, I could tell he was at a loss. “What in the name of Ankou are you two doing? Stop fooling around—we have to go before more of them arrive.”
With a flourish of shadow and his cloak, he disappeared around the corner.
“He might have saved my life, but he’s still a pain in the ass,” I muttered.
Sabine extracted her legs out from under me and reached for her sword. “Hey, don’t look at me. I’m not the one who decided to befriend his arch-nemesis.”
I holstered my pistol and wobbled my hand back and forth. “Arch-nemesis? Naw. Maybe ‘staunch antagonist’ or ‘dedicated rival.’ But Crowley was never my arch-anything.”
Crowley popped his head back around the corner. “Now, I said. Hurry!”
I sighed and looked at Sabine. “That being said, he’s approaching frenemy status, real freaking quick.”
17
We spent the next thirty minutes or so playing hide and go seek with the Grimknife Clan, who came out in force after someone discovered the patrol we’d taken out. Between Crowley’s shadow magic and Sabine’s glamours, we managed to make it into the castle proper without being found out. But it was touch and go until we exited the dungeon.
The level above the dungeon looked exactly like what you’d expect a medieval castle to look like. Stone walls, vaulted chambers, arched doors, and tapestries everywhere. Plus, it was drafty as all hell.
The castle was much colder than the lower levels, whether from exposure to the elements or the elevation, I couldn’t be certain. As soon as we found a decent hiding spot, I dug out my trench and threw it on. After the swamps, mists, and sewers, most of my clothing was soaked. I was soon shivering, even with the trench coat.
Crowley pulled us into an alcove behind a tapestry, where he muttered a short incantation and tapped the wall in an intricate pattern. The wall swung inward, opening the way to a dusty, cobwebbed passage. We ducked inside, and Crowley closed the hidden door behind us.
“Servant’s passages and spy ways,” he explained. “Hardly used anymore. Mother rarely entertains, and The Dark Druid prefers… alternative means of subsistence.”
I shivered and pulled the trench coat tighter around me. “Is he here, Crowley? Do you think we’ll run into him?”
The wizard brushed cobwebs off his chest. “I certainly hope not. While you may believe you have unfinished business with him, I am not as delusional. We should avoid him at all costs, else we may end up as corpses for his necromantic experiments.”
My teeth started chattering as I spoke. “Y-yeah, well, if I s-see him, it’s on.”
The wizard pointed at me. “You’re obviously freezing. Why don’t you cast a warmth spell on yourself, instead of suffering?”
I shrugged. “Don’t know that spell.”
Crowley’s hood turned to Sabine. “Is he serious?”
Sabine rolled her eyes. “He’s human, and he sucks at magic. Don’t ask me—I have no idea how they train druids these days. But his magical skills are limited to minor cantrips and the like.”
Crowley shook his head. It was impossible to see his facial expression, but I could hear the contempt and disbelief in his voice. “I have no idea what Belladonna sees in you.”
“You and me both,” Sabine said as she crossed her arms.
“H-hey!” I protested.
The fae girl snorted and pointed a finger in my general direction, waving it around like a laser pointer. “Crowley, can you fix this?”
“Of course,” he said, as if offended by the mere suggestion that he couldn’t.
Crowley muttered a spell and waved a hand at me, and my clothing began to steam as it heated up. Within moments I was dry from head to toe and toasty warm. He stood back and placed his hands on his hips.
“Pretty useless druid, eh, Crowley?” Sabine teased.
“Useless? I would remind you both that I’m a reluctant druid, at best. And before you tell me that I need to learn more magic, let me stop you right there. It’s already on the agenda.”
Crowley headed down the tunnel. “I honestly do not understand Belladonna’s obsession with you. A druid who can’t work serious magic? It makes no sense.”
I shook a fist at his retreating back. “You’ll see how useless I am if we run into Fuamnach!”
Crowley dismissed my comment with a wave, not sparing me another glance.
Sabine chuckled as she walked past. “Oh, stop sulking. It just makes you look small. C’mon, my reluctant druid. The last thing we need is to get separated from Crowley in this castle. I may not completely trust him, but I sure as hell don’t like the idea of making it back out of here without him.”
Despite her admonishment, I sulked in silence as I followed behind, mostly because they were both right and I knew it. I’d been putting off continuing my studies with Finnegas since Jesse had died, and it had turned out to be a mistake on more than one occasion. Druids were known to be incredibly powerful healers. Maybe if I hadn’t put it off, Hemi would still be alive—because I could’ve saved him.
But now, I’d never know.
If we got out of this mess and made it back to earth, I’d track Finnegas down and finish my training. Or maybe I’d find a way back and study with the Dagda, and get the knowledge from the source. Either way, recent events had shown that I needed to improve my magical abilities. It wasn’t just a matter of personal survival; it was a matter of protecting my friends.
And damned if I was going to see another friend die because I couldn’t save them.
We followed Crowley through those passageways for an interminable amount of time. He led us down a never-ending procession of winding, narrow corridors, up steep, rough-cut stairways, and through several partially-collapsed tunnels.
After who knew how long, he finally pulled to a stop and held up his fist. He gestured for us to come forward, and we gathered close behind him in the confines of a rough stone passage, barely as wide as my shoulders were broad.
Crowley leaned in and whispered. “Just ahead is the secret entrance to my quarters. There lies the portal, hopefully still hidden from prying eyes. We will not want to tarry there, as the living quarters are all in the same wing of the castle.”
“Meaning that your adoptive mother and father might be nearby,” I said.
“Just so. Be on your guard, and remain completely silent beyond this point.” He pulled his hood up to hide his face deeper in shadow, if that was even possible. “Let’s go.”
“Should it go without saying that I have a bad feeling about this?” Sabine whispered.
“You and me both,” I whispered back. “Just keep your eyes peeled, and if things go sideways, get back to the gateway. Tell Maeve that I’m coming right behind, as soon as the kids are safely through.”
“You want me to lie to her?”
“No, because I know you can’t. Instead, I want you to assume the best and stick with the plan. As far as you’ll know, I might actually be right behind you. And I’m telling you now that if we run into Fuamnach, I intend to take care of business and then meet you back at the gateway.”
Sabines mouth twisted in a wry grin. “You’re learning, druid.”
“I may be slow on the uptake, but eventually I get the punchline. Now, let’s get these items for Maeve and get the hell out of here.” I pointed at Crowley’s dwindling shadow down the corridor. “After you.”
We caught up to Crowley, who was leaning against a section of wall that looked like any other. He had his ear pressed to it, along with both his hands. I glanced at the scars on his hand and winced, turning away before he saw me. I felt bad about how he’d suffered, but in truth, I’d caused none of it. Still, I wondered now how much he blamed me for his current state, and how much he blamed his adoptive parents.
I had a feeling I was about to find which of us was the object of his anger.
The wizard nodded once, then muttered a spell and pressed on the wall. A section of stones pivoted on center, becoming a revolving door of sorts. Beyond, faint light revealed a large bedchamber that contained a four-poster bed, thick fur rugs on the floor, an unlit fireplace, and various pieces of furniture. Bookshelves lined the walls, occupied with various magical texts and tomes. Through an arched doorway, I spied a workshop filled with tables, benches, alchemical equipment, and the like.
Despite the quality of the furnishings, the place was sparsely decorated, and almost Spartan in its character. Based on the wizard’s dour personality, I had no doubt that we were entering his living quarters.
“Cozy place,” I whispered.
Crowley turned sharply and placed a finger to his lips—or, rather, to his shadowed cowl. He snuck across the room to the laboratory-slash-workshop, and we followed close behind. The shadow wizard slid a bookshelf aside, revealing a large, twisted oval of vines and leaves growing out of the wall. The vegetation seemed to be alive, and moisture clung to the leaves and vines, despite the cool and dry air in the bedchamber and lab.
The wizard placed a hand in the center of the oval, gently touching the bricks of the wall on which it resided. He muttered a spell and the wall shimmered, disappearing into mists that swirled inside the oval of vines and leaves. The smell of rot and swamp gas suddenly filled the room, reminding me of Peg Powler’s demesne.
Crowley whispered, almost too low to hear. “This will take us into the treasure room. I will leave the portal open, and if all goes well, it will then transport us to the farthest reaches of the sewers—where we entered from Peg’s lands. Hopefully, we can make our escape before Mother can muster her forces to pursue. If we’re lucky, Peg will take pity on us and use her powers to delay them in their pursuit.”
“That’s a lot of ‘ifs,’” I whispered back.
“It is the best I can do. Let’s go, before we are discovered.” He ducked into the portal.
Sabine followed after him, but I grabbed her before she stepped through. “Remember what I said—if we run into Fuamnach, beat feet back through the portal and get the kids out safe. Promise me, Sabine.”
“Look, if you think I’m going to leave you to face her alone—”
I gripped her arm, perhaps a little too tightly. “You know what I’ve lost, what I’ve suffered because of her. Do you really think I’m going to tuck my tail and run, if I get the chance to confront her? No offense, but you’ll only be a distraction. And if I’m to survive a confrontation with Fuamnach, I can’t afford to be distracted. As long as I know you’re getting the kids home safe, I’ll be able to do what needs to be done. Now, promise me you’ll do what I asked.”
Indecision played across her
delicate features. Finally, she nodded. “I promise. But get yourself killed, and I swear I will find someone to resurrect you just so—”
“Just so you can kick my ass.” I smiled. “I got it, Sabine.”
“So long as we’re clear on that.” She winked and ducked through the portal.
I half expected to step through that portal and into the torture chambers in the dungeon. Although we hadn’t actually seen any torture chambers on our way into the castle, I had no doubt they existed. So, I was mildly surprised when we exited into a huge stone room with arched ceilings. It was filled with gold and gems that glittered in the light cast from torches along the walls.
“What is it with fae having treasure chambers that are straight out of The Hobbit?” I asked.
Crowley shushed me. “Keep it down. Mother may have guards in here that are unseen. And touch nothing. Everything is coated in poison.”
I stopped myself just as I was about to pick up a ruby the size of a robin’s egg. “Thanks for the advance warning there.”
“I didn’t expect you to stoop to common thievery, Colin,” he replied.
“What do you think we’re doing by taking the Sword and the Stone?”
“That is not stealing, since technically the Treasures belong to Ireland as much as they do the Tuatha. Besides, the Dagda himself gave you his blessing to carry out this quest.”
Sabine tilted her head and smirked. “Well, you can’t argue with his logic.”
“Semantics,” I muttered. “That one ruby could’ve paid for my college tuition five times over.”
“Should we live though this ill-fated mission, I’m sure you’ll find other means of paying for your second-class education,” the wizard remarked. “Now, follow me. The Treasures are most assuredly in an adjacent chamber.”
“Second-class? I worked hard to get accepted to Texas!”
Crowley began walking to a doorway across the room. “If you say so. The Treasures should be in here.” He muttered a few syllables, and the door swung open.
