The Ballad Nocturne (The Midnight Defenders Book 3)

by Joey Ruff

  I didn’t say anything, and Silen turned and looked out of the bell tower, surveying the parking lot below. The elves were still battling the apes, though there were fewer of either side now. I pulled Grace up, cracking her barrel as quietly as I could, and I retrieved the spent shells.

  “It is nearly complete,” Silen said, gloating proudly. “The plan has been executed flawlessly. Providing the spell to the woman. The free will decision to enact the Ballad, which in turn was able to subdue and distract the guardians.”

  “You…played both sides.” I watched the Satyr carefully as I fished in my pocket, looking for the shells I needed. He didn’t turn around.

  “And the Alfar were able to crossover.”

  I slid the first shell in. “So now, the woman will be taken out, and everything is finished?” I said, slipping the second shell into place.

  Silen turned, eying me curiously. “Surely, Aegir knows that the Alfar were but another distraction? They were the insurance, not the target.”

  I stopped, took my hands from the gun. I gave him my best dumb look and said, “Like he fucking tells me anything. I’m just the sodding help, mate.”

  Silen turned back around. “Then you have arrived at the opportune moment. We will share in this victory together.”

  “You don’t…” I eased Grace closed and slid her slowly from her holster. “It doesn’t bother you that I’m human?”

  “It matters not who you are or where you came from. What does matter is who you swear allegiance to.”

  I leveled Grace at Silen and took a step closer. I was feet away. “I swear allegiance to myself.”

  He began to turn when I pulled both triggers at once. Iron buckshot exploded out, smashing against his chest, and throwing him back into the pillar. He spun and then fell onto the roof, rolling on the shingles.

  I reloaded quickly and charged after him, but Silen had already gained his feet. The leather on his chest was shredded, and he was dripping with blood. His hand held a small, jagged sword. His lips held a menacing smile.

  He charged me, lashing out with the blade. It was too quick to realize what was happening, but I moved on instinct, bringing Grace up to block. He swung again and again. I managed to catch the blade with Grace each time, and then I brought her around to fire, but he was ready for it this time.

  I pulled the trigger. He evaded, dropping to the side. I swung Grace down like a club. He rolled to the inside, kicked his foot out, hitting my shin, knocking me onto my back.

  I braced for an attack that didn’t come. Instead, I heard Silen’s voice. “Your actions here are without merit, human. The day has already been won.”

  I sat up to find him standing over me. I aimed Grace at him, point blank, and he struck with his sword, knocking her out of my hand. She skittered across the shingles, teetered on the edge of the roof, and then dropped.

  Silen offered me a cold smile and said, “You waste my time here. I will take my leave.” He turned, took a few steps away and stood on the edge of the roof. Looking down at the ground below, he said, “I have no doubt we’ll meet again. Do not think I will forgive your deceit.”

  I pulled the FN and put six shots into his back before he toppled forward and fell off the roof.

  Scrambling to the edge, I looked down, but didn’t see him. His body should have been lying there. But he was gone.

  41

  Ape

  A wave of cold flooded the room and swept over me with such force it knocked me to the ground.

  Then, the thunderbird burst into flames.

  It started simply. Smoke began to seep through the open beak. Then from underneath its wings. A single flame sprouted in the center of its back, directly between the wings, and it soon spread like a serpent in both directions, down to its tail and up toward its head. In a matter of seconds, the entire creature was on fire.

  Panic flooded through me. Aegir had been thwarted. His amulet that was used to connect him to the physical realm had been destroyed. His vessel was completely immobile. Yet, somehow, he seemed to have still accomplished his goal.

  I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. Before my very eyes, the fire ate and consumed the last thunderbird. Huge chunks of black ash fell to the ground, shattering into powder that continued to burn with smaller flames. I wept.

  As I watched, I faintly became aware of a column of sunlight that had entered the cave from the chimney hole in the rock above. It shone a single, round spot on the back wall.

  Within minutes, the entire bird had been reduced to a giant lump of coal, and the fire had smoked out.

  I watched the spot of light that had moved from the wall to the floor. It was symbolic, I thought, of how, even in the darkest caves, there was still a bright spot. Even if I didn’t know what it was at this particular moment.

  As the light moved slowly across the cave, I became aware of movement. Just a second ago, I had been the only one in the cave. Or so I thought. But as I looked into the shadows at the back wall, I could distinctly make out the silhouette of a man.

  I rubbed my palms into my eyes to wipe the tears away and then stood. “Who’s there?” I said. Any remaining Edomites were too injured to walk. I’d just watched Crestmohr die, and Aegir had been banished from the realm. Even more, there was no other entrance to the cave, so anyone here now, had to have come in through the tunnel I’d come in myself. And they would have had to have been here the entire time.

  I took a step forward, but the man on the far side of the cave chose to stay where he was. “What are you doing in here?”

  “My job, fuck-man,” came a thin, nasally voice in a Caribbean accent. His voice was so cold that when he spoke, I suddenly understood the temperature change in the room. “How is it you stand in witness of such an event?”

  “I…live here. Aegir just…”

  “Ah, yes. The caretaker.” The man laughed, but there was no humor in his voice. “Aegir is a fuck-wad. He has planned this for some time.” The man took a deep puff of a cigar. It was startling for two reasons. The first was that I hadn’t smelled a cigar. Then again, there was another fire burning. The second, was the accompanying flare of light that revealed the man’s features in a red-orange glow. He had dark skin, dark sunglasses, and a top hat. He wore a long trench coat with no shirt.

  “Who are you?”

  “Just a friend.”

  “How did you get in here?”

  The man only laughed.

  I motioned to the pile of ash that used to be a thunderbird. “So you…know him? Wait, you’re not a…a…?”

  “A fucking bird?” His laughter was rich and heavy, almost warm. “No. But when you have lived as long as we have, you become acquainted.”

  “So, then, what are you?”

  He didn’t answer. He seemed preoccupied by the way the column of light trailed along the floor to the pile of ash in the center. “It was a good thing you were here this day, fuck-man.”

  I found myself watching the spot of light as well, but I looked up at him as I said, “Lot of good it did. I was too late.”

  The man took a step back. When he puffed again on his cigar, the glow of the embers revealed the smile on his face. “I think not,” was all he said.

  A loud crack filled the cave.

  The spot of light was now a column shining directly down from the opening in the cave roof onto the lump of coal that had been the thunderbird. With the crack, a fissure-like opening had split along the top of the coal. Now, not only was the light shining down on top of it, but it was shining up out of it, as well.

  As I watched, not quite believing what I was seeing, a hand slowly came out of the fissure, then another. Each hand grabbed onto one side of the blackened husk and began to push.

  Curious, I looked back at the man, but as mysteriously as he had appeared, he was gone. I looked into the shadow for a second before realizing that this wasn’t the strangest thing to happen to me all day, and shrugged it off.

  With another loud crack that
echoed throughout the cavern, the mass of black, burnt thunderbird cracked apart like an egg. At first, all I could see of the interior was a brilliant, blinding light.

  The column of light that came down from the ceiling had grown from a beam about the size of my hand to cover the entirety of the area, which was maybe a circle fifteen feet in diameter. As the light shining down grew in intensity, the light inside the center of the mass amplified as well, and in the next heartbeat, the entire cave was suddenly as bright as day.

  I had just enough time to shield my face.

  As I stood there, eyes closed, I could still see the light. The way the brilliance of the sun becomes temporarily burned into your vision if you stare at it for too long. I felt the heat on my skin, as if I were standing in a field on a warm, summer day. It lasted for seconds, minutes, maybe. It was hard to tell. When the light faded, the warmth remained.

  It was like nothing I’d ever felt or experienced before. My body had been beaten, torn, punctured, and bruised, but as I stood there, feeling the light wash over me, every ounce of fatigue, every pang and ache, slowly faded. And every feeling I had was replaced by a near-tangible flood of peace. As I stood there, I had the overwhelming feeling that I could stand in that spot, feeling exactly as I felt in that moment, for all of eternity.

  Reluctantly, however, I opened my eyes and turned to where the thunderbird had been. A pile of black ash and a single, modest beam of light were all that remained. Standing in the center of it all, was Crestmohr. Not as a bird, but as the man I had known my entire life, brown-skinned and shaggy white hair. He was completely naked, yet he was sexless. His skin glimmered and sparkled in the ray of sunlight that filtered down. While he had always given off a youthful demeanor, there was something about him that suggested he was younger than ever now, but also as ancient as the hill we were standing in.

  “Terry,” he said with a smile.

  I didn’t say anything, couldn’t say anything.

  He raised a hand to me and said, “Please, come closer.”

  I did. My steps were slow and hesitant, but part of me couldn’t wait to be closer to him. And as I walked, I noticed that, for the first time in months, there was no pain in my leg.

  “You have questions,” he said. It was a statement. His voice was so warm, so understanding. Full of love.

  I just nodded. Where to start?

  “We have not spoken with any substance since the night the gargoyles attacked. As you know, I am a Thunderbird. I am the last of my kind. I am also the first.”

  “Are…are you a god?” I managed to say.

  He smiled faintly. “No. You have heard the name Perun, no doubt. That is a name that has, sadly, fallen into the realm of myth. There are certainly cultures that worship Perun as a god. They have even set graven images of him. They do not worship me, nor do I accept their worship or draw power from it like Aegir and his kind. They worship the idea of me. It is not something I am proud of. Nor do I have control over it.

  “I am a servant of the Most High, Terry.” He said a word that I could never hope to pronounce, a word I had never heard before, but the moment I heard it, I knew exactly that it was a name, and that it was the most powerful name to ever be spoken. “He is the Creator. And he has appointed me the West wind, bringer of light spring and early summer breezes. The ancient Greeks called my brothers and I the Anemoi.”

  “The winds,” I said. “I know a little about…” I shook my head. “Wait, brothers? There are more?”

  “There are four of us.”

  “The four winds,” I said, still trying to process the information.

  “Thunderbird. Phoenix. Eagle. Roc.”

  “How have I not known this? My entire life…?”

  “Yes. Chess has advised me that you have not been informed of the Ouroboros process and your role. For that, I am deeply sorry. It slipped my mind that your parents died while you were away. We will rectify that at once.”

  “My…role?”

  “As caretaker.”

  My head spun with his words. “Crestmohr, I…”

  He nodded. “Of course, without this knowledge, you would have assumed that all of this, this land, the house and its defenses, Chess, even myself, were all here to serve your family. The truth is that all of it, including your family, have been appointed as caretakers over me.

  “The Ouroboros is an event that takes place every seven hundred years. It is a cycle of death and rebirth. The old passes away, burned in holy fire. In the end, I am renewed. The night of the gargoyles, Aegir sensed that the time of Ouroboros was near, and he came to Seattle seeking to draw me out and end me.”

  “I don’t understand. How could he end you?”

  “There are rules,” he said. “Ancient laws that must be upheld. Such as the atonement by blood for indiscretions. Life cannot be eternal in the physical realm. For my kind to be here and watch over you, we must die and be reborn. During the time of Ouroboros, we are weak and subject to the eternal death.”

  “So Aegir knew that if he killed you during the Ouroboros, you wouldn’t come back again?”

  “Yes. The night I faced Aegir, I was weak. I should not have faced him in that condition, but I feared what he would do to you and John Swyftt if I did not. I was defeated that night and weakened. Aegir came tonight to finish what he started.”

  “Now that he’s failed, he’ll have to wait another seven hundred years.”

  “Thanks to you and your friends.”

  I nodded, but I didn’t feel worthy of his praise. I wanted to lash out at him and tell him that had I known, I could have been better prepared. I could have taken precautions. We would have activated the defenses sooner. We would… I stopped my mental rant. Because the truth was, there was no we. London had given his life protecting Crestmohr, and he never even knew it. It didn’t seem fair. Had we known what was happening, that Aegir, of all things, would be coming, London might still be here.

  Crestmohr put his hand on my shoulder. “Peace, brother. I know what troubles you.” I looked up at him. There was understanding in his eyes. Compassion. He was…crying. “Your friend, London. I am sorry for what happened to him.” Crestmohr closed his eyes. A big tear rolled from his cheek down to his chin, hung there for a moment, and then fell to the earth. His hand moved absently to his forehead, touching a spot between his eyebrows. When he opened his eyes, he said, “Aegir attempted to take something from me. There was a vial, I believe.”

  I blinked. He was talking about the syringe. I looked over and saw it lying by the wall near the cave’s entrance. “Take it. Give it to him.”

  “I…”

  Crestmohr smiled at me.

  “What is it for? The vial? That glowing liquid?”

  “It is a bit of my life-force.”

  “Why would Aegir want it?”

  “As I said, there are rules. Governing laws. Spirits cannot exist in the physical world as a general principle. My brothers and I are exceptions to that. Aegir would like to be, also. My life-force would go a great distance to making that happen. It would allow him to exist in the physical world with all of his ability. Such a thing has not happened in a very long time.”

  I took a step toward the vial, but stopped. There were still so many questions, so much I wanted to know. “Just before you…the light and…rebirth, I guess.” Crestmohr’s smile was patient and warm. He nodded. “Before you came back,” I said. “There was someone else here. Do you…know who that was?”

  “Yes. He was a friend.”

  “That’s what he said, but he was purposefully vague on the details.” I studied Crestmohr for a minute. “He said he was doing his job. What did that mean?”

  “He was an angel of death. He was standing by. In case Aegir’s plan had been successful.” He closed his eyes. “Thank you.”

  “I…want to give you a hug. Is that allowed?”

  “Of course.”

  I took a step toward him and said, “My leg and…”

  “It is an a
fter effect of the Ouroboros process. As my life was restored, residual energy flooded the valley.”

  “So, then, Omri, Levi…?”

  “It is just a residual effect, Terry. It does not bring back those you’ve lost, but it will heal those that are still living. Regardless of the injury.”

  I hugged him. I don’t know how long I stood in his embrace, but it was like a warm rain. I felt so safe. Eventually, he pulled back, still smiling.

  As I turned to go, I stopped at the syringe and picked it up. I watched the glowing, amber liquid inside, and Crestmohr said, “One last thing, Terry.”

  I turned to him.

  “I know your heart. I know the kind and loving man that you are. You give second chances and are quick to forgive. But what is in that vial is only for your friend London. Do you understand?”

  I nodded, trying to follow his thinking. “You mean the Edomites that have fallen?”

  “The Edomites have been cursed by the Most High. Had they not taken up with one of the Fallen, they would have been devastated from the Earth. You understand, I hope.”

  I nodded, even though I didn’t agree. It didn’t seem right. In the end, the Edomites gave their lives just the same as London to fight back Aegir and the neak. My stomach twisted. I felt a pang of guilt for not feeling more grateful.

  As I looked at him, something came to mind, and I hung my head as I said, “There’s something you need to know.” Crestmohr watched me, but he didn’t say anything. “Thai and Taboo, they…” I shook my head. “It was Aegir. I’m sorry.”

  Crestmohr nodded sadly. “It was not your fault.” He looked like he wanted to say something else, but didn’t. He seemed distracted by something, though I couldn’t see what. “I look forward to talking further about this,” he said eventually. “I will answer any questions you have. But let us save that for later. I have just awoken. Allow me to reorient, and I will meet you at the barn later.”