Jack Templar and the Monster Hunter Academy: The Templar Chronicles: Book 2

by Gunhus, Jeff

  Two hunters walked around the tree, talking in low voices to one another. I recognized Darter as one of them, but didn’t know the other’s name. He was tall, scrawny and wore his hair long, down to his shoulders. He had a beaked nose that gave him a vulture-like appearance. They walked right beneath me and stopped.

  It took all my self-control not to move. I hung there with all of my weight supported by my fingers. I was wondering just how long I could hold on when I overheard the conversation going on below me.

  “I don’t know, Midge. Maybe he is the One,” Darter said.

  “D’ya believe ‘im today? Devil-werewolf? Bah!” the vulture-looking hunter called Midge replied.

  “They say it’s true. Said he faced down Ren Lucre, too.”

  “Faced down? What d’ya mean faced down?”

  “In battle, you idiot. They say he won.”

  “An’ who says that? Templar?” Midge spat.

  “No, Eva said so to Daniel. I’ve never known Eva to make something like that up.”

  “If Templar beat ‘im, then why’s Aquinas gettin’ us ready for Ren Lucre’s war, then? Don’t make no sense, does it?”

  “I guess not. Still, if he is the One…”

  “Ha! The One? Scrawny kid like that? Not inna million years. Better chance I’m the One than ‘im.”

  “I had him in drills today,” Darter said. “He’s stronger than he looks. Real strong.”

  At that moment I didn’t feel that strong as my muscles were starting to ache from clinging to the tree. I tried to shift my weight a little from one hand to the other but I wasn’t sure how much longer I could last. The hunters below continued to talk, oblivious that I was directly over their heads.

  “How about the wolf? How about that? I was there at the gate. There was like…a connection between the two of them,” Darter said.

  “Tiberon? Only connection with humans that one makes is with ‘is teeth to our throats. You’re startin’ to worry me, you know that? Daniel says we’re not to make it easy on the kid. You got that, right?”

  Even though hearing Daniel’s name gave me a surge of adrenaline, my arms still felt like they were on fire. My fingers were cramped up and I didn’t know how much longer I could last. But if I let go, I would literally fall on top of the two hunters beneath me.

  I carefully slid my toe back and forth across the tree, looking for anything I could use to prop up some of my weight and relieve my burning muscles. I found something and pushed down on it.

  For a split second, it felt great. Then, suddenly, the piece of bark my foot was on broke off. My body dropped and my muscles screamed as I caught myself by digging my fingers back into the knots over my head.

  My legs swung wildly as I tried to get back in control. Once I did, I peeked over my shoulder at the two hunters. The piece of bark must have miraculously landed behind them unnoticed because they were still locked in a low conversation.

  “D’ya hear Daniel’s plan for ‘im? First time Master ‘quinas goes on one ‘uv ‘er trips, he’s got a somethin’ real good going for ‘im.”

  “What’s he going to do? Is it really good?” Darter asked.

  “I’m not tellin’ you.”

  “Come on, Midge. That’s not fair.”

  “See, Darter? That’s your problem, ain’t it? Thinkin’ things gotta be fair.”

  The vulture-looking hunter called Midge walked away and I imagined the smug look on his face as Darter continued to beg him for information. I breathed a sigh of relief as they walked away, their voices disappearing into the night.

  I didn’t have time to wonder about the plans Daniel had for me at the end of the week. I wasn’t sure if I would even be around by then anyway.

  I scraped my feet against the tree and finally found a solid foothold. I grabbed the next highest knot in the tree and quickly made it to the lowest branches. Flexing my sore hands, I waited until some of the feeling came back. As I looked up, I pondered just how massive the tree’s branches were, each one the size of a tree themselves. Looking around, I spotted a high balcony another thirty feet up and climbed toward it.

  When I got there, I saw that the balcony had an open section in the railing that would let a person walk out of the structure and straight onto the tree on a wide branch. Or, as in my case, made it easy to sneak into the tree house.

  I cautiously climbed onto the balcony and peered around the corner into the room.

  I recognized the area. It was the space just behind where we had met Aquinas the night before. The walls were covered with bookshelves filled not only with old books, but stacks of loose papers, maps, binders and various knickknacks being used as paperweights.

  I walked in slowly, testing the floor with each step to see if it would creak under my weight. But the structure was as solid as the tree itself and the floor didn’t make a sound.

  I approached the first row of books and scanned the length of them, not sure what I was looking for. The books were so old that their titles had worn completely off their spines. But one book drew my attention—it was set back a little deeper into the shelf than the books around it, as if it were hiding from me. I pushed aside the books on either side of it and saw that it was a tall, leather-bound tome with straps wrapped around it to keep it closed. That, combined with the fact that it was somewhat hidden from view, made me think it was as good a place as any to look for secrets. Besides, in some inexplicable way, the book seemed to be calling to me.

  Not a voice. Not even a sound, really. It was a feeling that this was the book I should open. Giving myself over to instinct, I pulled the book off the shelf.

  A thick coat of dust covered it and a cloud puffed into the air as I laid it on a table to examine. The straps were an intricate design of looping material, passing over and under like in a weavers loom. I found the end and set to work unraveling it. My hands moved quickly, as if I had unwrapped the book a hundred times before. If I had stopped to think, I might have realized something was off about the whole thing. But something had a hold on me and I was completely focused on getting that book open.

  Finally, I got to the end of the binding and removed the last of the straps. I carefully opened the book, angling it to the moonlight streaming in from the door. It looked like some sort of ancient text, handwritten in a flowing style, perhaps in Latin. I turned the page and nearly dropped the book when I saw the picture printed within.

  Ren Lucre!

  Exactly as I had seen him only weeks before, glaring at me from the page.

  I looked more closely, unable to take my eyes off of him. My hands trembled and in my mind I decided to close the book. But my body wouldn’t respond.

  My trembling hands pulled the book closer to my face.

  I couldn’t stop myself.

  Then Ren Lucre’s cold, dead eyes changed.

  Right on the page, they started to glow.

  Like two pinpricks of fire, right in the center of his eyes, growing steadily brighter, burning a hole in the page. A tendril of smoke rose up in the air.

  I tried to turn away, but I couldn’t.

  My hands pulled it closer and closer to me.

  “Enough!” cried a voice.

  Something grabbed the book from me and threw it to the ground. It burst into flames and Ren Lucre’s cackling laugh filled the air.

  Then, as if the oxygen had been sucked out of the room, the fire was snuffed out, leaving behind a smoldering pile of ash.

  I regained control of my body and staggered backward, holding on to the cloaking medallion around my neck as if that would somehow protect me. Strong hands grabbed me and guided me into a leather armchair.

  A lantern flickered to life and I saw Aquinas with her back to me, poking the ashes with her cane.

  I seized the chance and jumped from the chair to make a mad dash for the balcony. Before I could move one step, a sword whipped through the air and blocked my path. It was Aquinas. And she had moved impossibly fast, with all the agility of a fighter.


  I glanced at the door leading into the tree structure, the only other way to escape.

  “I hope you don’t try that,” Aquinas said. “I already know you have poor judgment. I’d hate to find out that you’re stupid as well.”

  “What now?” I asked.

  “You sit. I get tea,” she replied.

  “Tea?”

  “You do like tea, don’t you?”

  “Yeah,” I said, “I guess. That’s it?”

  “What? Did you think I was going to have you marched out of here in chains and locked up in the dungeon?”

  I shrugged. “Something like that.”

  “Sorry to disappoint you. But the good news is…” Aquinas turned her back on me and struck a match, tossing it into the fireplace. The logs whooshed into a high flame that threw the room into a dance of light and shadows. “Depending on how tea goes, that still might happen. Be right back.”

  I swallowed hard and awkwardly stood in the center of the room, not quite sure what to do with my hands.

  “Oh, and Jack,” Aquinas called from the other room. “Be a dear and don’t touch anything else in there, all right?”

  I looked at the bookshelves that surrounded me and shook my head. After what just happened, there was no way I was touching anything.

  I backed up slowly and settled into the armchair. With my heart still beating hard in my chest, I waited for my cup of tea.

  Chapter Seven

  I sat down next to the fire, the crackle of the flames the only sound in the room. As the seconds ticked by, I found my gaze drawn to the ancient, intricately carved wood table in front of my armchair.

  Each corner was carved with a grotesque face looking outward. The two nearest me seemed to be a vampire and some kind of demon—both with their mouths pulled back in a silent scream. Along the length of the table, carved into the flat panel of wood, were dozens of soldiers with swords and spears, locked in battle against dark shapes that swirled around them. I leaned in closer and saw that many of the men were not holding their weapons in their hands. Rather, the weapons stuck out from their bodies, swords pierced through chests, pikes stuck into thighs and necks. It was a gruesome scene of suffering and defeat.

  I looked up when Aquinas walked back in carrying a tray with two cups and a small white teapot scuffed on the sides from ages of use.

  She set the tea service down and poured out two cups of hot liquid. An intense mint flavor filled the air.

  “This teapot is from El-Fishawi,” Aquinas said. “Have you heard of it?”

  I shook my head as I took the hot cup from her.

  “It’s a coffeehouse in old Cairo. Been around since before your war of independence in America. Right in the middle of the Khan el Khalili souk.”

  “What’s a souk?” I asked, taking the cup from her.

  Aquinas walked over and stoked the fire with a metal poker. “A souk is a market. Buyuk Carsi in Istanbul is the oldest, but Djemaa el-Fna in Morocco is also amazing. These places are of the ancient world. They have long been gathering places for our kind. For Regs, they can be filled with wonderful mysteries. For hunters, they are filled with information and people helpful to our cause.”

  “I have enough mysteries, thank you,” I said. “Respectfully, I’d prefer to have some answers.”

  “And you thought breaking into an old woman’s house was the best way to accomplish that?” Aquinas asked, sipping her tea.

  “I do think the answers I seek are here,” I said.

  Aquinas waved a hand at the bookcases surrounding us. “And you thought you would just break in and grab a book. Maybe one that said, ‘Answers to Jack’s Questions’?”

  I shifted uncomfortably in my chair. “It was better than just sitting around. Even if I didn’t find anything, it was better than not trying.”

  Aquinas beamed. “That’s the first sensible thing you’ve said all night. Are you going to try your tea? It’s quite good.”

  I humored her and lifted the steaming cup to my lips. It was a strong mint flavor mixed with flowery notes I didn’t recognize. As much as I didn’t want to admit it, it was really tasty. I looked up and Aquinas smiled, knowing I was trying to hide how much I enjoyed it.

  “Perhaps I was wrong to wait,” Aquinas said. “You are every bit as impetuous as your father was.” I felt a surge of pride to be compared to my father. Aquinas noticed and squinted her eyes at me. “You do know what impetuous means, don’t you? Rash, prone to act without thinking it through…”

  “I guess it’s just in my blood,” I said.

  A dark sadness came over Aquinas, both on her face and in the way her shoulders drooped forward. “Yes,” she agreed, “perhaps it is.”

  “So will you tell me? Will you explain where I came from? Eva told me only bits and pieces. She said I would learn the rest here. I’m ready.”

  Aquinas arched an eyebrow at me. “Ready? How could you possibly know if you’re ready?”

  I leaned in close and fixed my eyes on hers. “Try me,” I said.

  Aquinas nodded and closed her eyes as if reading a book only she could see. Then she started to speak:

  “The war between Man and Monster is as old as Man himself. Since the days when humankind first descended from the trees and began to group together in tribes, the Creach have hunted them as prey. In the earliest of days, when Man only existed in small pockets of the world, we were of no special significance to the Creach. We were simply another animal on which they feasted. But over time humans rose to prominence and became, for better or for worse, the organizing force on the planet.

  Even then, the Creach ignored the rise of Man and continued to hunt him for sport and for sustenance.” She pointed to the rows of books around her. “As evidence, the earliest writings in literature the world over contain references to monsters. It’s a wonder that the modern world is able to wash away these facts as mere coincidence, to avoid facing the truth. Think of it. Ancient writings from every continent describe demons who shift their shapes from man to wolf, tell of monsters who drink the blood of their victims, of corpses that rise from the dead, harpies and centaurs and trolls. All from humans who had no communication with one another for literally centuries after these accounts were written. And yet the modern world calls this simply a coincidence, a shared universal imagination. When the war comes, it will be looked back upon as the greatest collective state of denial in the history of the world.”

  “When what war comes?” I asked.

  Aquinas waved her hands in the air. “I’m getting ahead of myself. You want to know the whole story. More tea?”

  I shook my head and waited for her to continue.

  “Man turned out to be an organized and social creature. It wasn’t long before the simple tribes and villages turned into towns and bustling cities. Pretty soon, we had become hopelessly entangled in all the trappings of modern civilization.”

  “You mean like laws?” I asked.

  “Laws, yes; but also the ability to wage war,” Aquinas said. “Whether living beside the Nile in Egypt, the Euphrates in Sumaria or the Yangzte in China, Man used his energies to create weapons, form armies and set out to conquer lands through force.”

  “What does that have to do with the Creach?” I asked, feeling like I was back in one of my classrooms at Sunnyvale Middle School. I guess the difference was that this history lesson promised to teach me things very few people knew about.

  “While Man organized himself into complex and organized forms of society, the Creach did not. Instead, they preferred to stay alone or in small groups, unwilling to cede control to any centralized power.

  “You see, they were too slow to realize the true nature of men and severely underestimated how quickly he would expand his footprint upon the Earth. He would never be content to share the world, his drive to dominate was more than simply a desire; it was his single organizing principle. Nothing would stand in his way and stop him from building greater cities, damming the rivers, cutting down the g
reat forests and asserting dominion over all the creatures of the Earth. But beyond this insatiable desire to control the world, men also wanted to control one another. Soon, all of their energies turned to developing better weapons and waging larger wars.

  “Once able to choose their human prey at will, the Creach found themselves relegated to the dark corners of a world made for and controlled by men. To appear in the open risked becoming the hunted instead of the hunter. Where once they controlled the world with fear, they were now made to live in shadows, by necessity becoming more myth than reality.”

  “Until someone organized them,” I said.

  “Not someone,” Aquinas intoned. “Some thing . A dark power rose up in the form of a vampire, one you have already met, I think.”

  “Ren Lucre,” I whispered, shivering at the sound of his name on my lips.

  Aquinas nodded. “Yes. Ren Lucre. In the year 999, he was a French nobleman with a bold future ahead of him. A brilliant mind, he was well-educated and sophisticated, experienced in the courts of Europe which were a front row seat in the practical application of power. This was an age of turmoil and superstition in all of Europe, but especially in France. Everyone, from the leaders of the churches to the peasants in the fields, feared that the year 1000 marked the end of the world. Chaos and violence raged as the date grew closer. Society broke down, threatening the aristocracy of which Ren Lucre was a part.

  “Fearing for the lives of his family both from the End of Times and the hordes of peasants roving the countryside, Ren Lucre turned his intellect to the study of the dark powers, especially in anything to do with the secrets of immortality. With the turn of the millennium fast approaching, he discreetly put out word of an enormous reward for a live vampire specimen. He didn’t have to wait long.”

  “People were able to capture one?” I asked.

  “No, of course not. But, hearing of this strange lord’s reward, a powerful vampire appeared at Ren Lucre’s castle one day, curious as to what kind of man would seek out a vampire so aggressively. The old vampire had come with every intention of killing Ren Lucre; instead they sat and talked for three straight days. As is often the case with important moments in history, Fate played a role in what happened next. On the eve of the old vampire’s visit, Ren Lucre’s wife gave birth to their sixth child, a boy, finally after five daughters. But the child struggled and died in his father’s arms hours after birth, breaking Ren Lucre’s heart forever. As if this weren’t enough, his wife was on the edge of death herself. It was under these conditions, wracked with grief for his son, his wife lying on her death bed and surrounded by a world headed to chaos, that Ren Lucre made the most horrific of decisions.”