by M. D. Massey
Option one, burn it. Tried and failed.
Option two, trap it with magic. Did that, and now I was stuck inside a creepy old warehouse with a creature made of shadow that radiated fear like a dead skunk put out stink. Not a complete fail—but not a solution, either.
Option three, figure out what hurts it and hit it with lots of that. That sounded like as good a plan as any. Considering that it was my only option as well, I decided to run with it.
So, Colin… fight fire with fire? Nope. Fight shadow with light.
I took a knee, holding the sword above me as I willed it to ignite. Once I had the sword’s flame and light between me and my enemy, I extended my senses to locate what remained of my illumination spell. I was somewhat surprised to discover the spell was still active, but unfortunately it was quickly being smothered by the night raven’s shadow magic. Soon, it would be extinguished completely, and I’d only prepared one such spell before heading out this evening.
Obviously, that meant I couldn’t let the spell go out… but how was I supposed to bolster it? Druids worked with what they had on hand, namely ingredients and components taken from nature, along with the natural elements themselves. What I needed was more light, enough to turbocharge my little spell.
But as for light sources, I’d come woefully ill-prepared. I had a pocket flashlight somewhere, but I doubted the light it generated would do much to cancel out the nachtkrapp’s powers. Same for my phone, and as for the sword right now, it was barely enough light to keep the night raven at bay.
Extending my senses further, I felt electricity humming through the building’s wiring. But in order to light the place up I’d need to find and flip the light switch. Even I couldn’t trace the wiring and jump an electrical circuit—at least, not in the little time I had before my spell faltered for good. And sure, there were street lamps here and there in the city, but it still wasn’t enough to make a difference.
The only other light source was the ambient light outside cast by the moon and stars above. I thought about it—could that work? Sure, the light seemed faint, but that was only compared to the sunlight we humans craved. The fact was, there was an incredible amount of light hitting the earth at night, but it was so spread out as to appear quite dim.
Could I gather the light waves hitting the area around the warehouse? If so, maybe I could compress and focus them all through my spell.
Worth a shot.
It was either that or turn tail and run, which meant setting this thing loose to kill again. And that simply wasn’t going to happen… not on my watch.
Two
Slowing my breathing, I reached out with my mind beyond the walls of the warehouse. Formerly, I’d have needed to enter a druid trance to do this, but I’d been practicing a lot lately and could do it now without going under. Tuning into the light cast by the moon and stars, I focused on the area within a block or so around the building, which was about as far as my awareness could reach.
Once I was in tune with the light outside, I pulled on it, gathering it together by using my magic and force of will as a funnel. I wasn’t actually refracting the light, but drawing its energy to me—like a magnet pulling iron filings to itself. As I collected every last bit of natural light over a roughly fifty-acre area, I felt the nachtkrapp’s magic and presence closing in on me.
Mind taut and nerves frayed by my predicament, I strained against the forces of nature, struggling to force the light into a beam that I intended to focus on the building’s roof—just above my little dying illumination spell. Perspiration broke out on my brow, and my muscles began to shake with tension and fatigue. Who knew that capturing moonlight could be so taxing?
Just when I thought I had it, the shadowy presence above pushed down against me like a giant hand, breaking my concentration. I cracked an eyelid and saw that darkness had gathered all around me, a black mass closing in on the sword’s flame and light until it began to flicker and diminish. When it went out, I knew the nachtkrapp’s fear magic would shatter my wards and fill me with enough fright to stop my heart. Or, it would fill my lungs with shadows made real and smother me, something I’d seen the wizard Crowley do once with his own shadow magic.
Either death was just as gruesome—and absolutely within the creature’s purview, based on what I’d experienced of its power thus far. It was ancient and evil, and I’d come against it ill-prepared. If I couldn’t stop it now, I might well and truly meet my end at the nachtkrapp’s hands… or talons, as it were.
Lacking a better plan, I shut my eyes tight and focused on channeling all the light I’d gathered into one thin, silvery beam. I shuddered to think of what any bystanders might be witnessing at the moment; to them, it might look as though aliens were beaming someone up. Or, in this deeply religious town, the locals might think they were witnessing a heavenly visitation. No matter what unwanted attention my spell had gathered, I could deal with that later. Right now, I had an evil shadow spirit to kill.
The more I concentrated my will on focusing that beam of light, the more I sensed heat building on the tin roof of the warehouse. Finally, I heard a whoosh as the tiny beam of moon and starlight vaporized a small section of corrugated metal above my illumination spell. As the light I’d gathered hit my spell it was absorbed into it, and although I couldn’t see it, I felt the orb expand against the thick dark mass above.
A loud screeching noise emanated from the cloud of shadow around me, then light from my spell broke through the dark mass like rays of sunlight breaking through heavy cloud cover. My magic continued to burst through the cloak of darkness cast by the nachtkrapp’s spell, and the light spread outward as it slowly chased the inky magic from the room. All the while, a hideous screeching and cawing echoed off the walls, fading out as the shadows dispersed.
Once my light spell had banished the gloom, it was easier to keep it running. I kept pouring energy into it until it filled the warehouse with a light so intense I had to shield my eyes from the glare. After my eyes adjusted to the radiant glow coming from above, I searched the room for the night raven.
Honestly, I had no idea if the supercharged light spell had killed it or if it had found someplace to hide. I did another circuit of the room, just as I’d done when I first entered the place. The faint sound of rustling feathers led me to a dilapidated divan, way off in an alcove between a china cabinet and an armoire where the light wasn’t quite as strong.
Wary of another piece of junk furniture that might come to life, I approached the divan with caution, prodding it with the sword’s tip at arm’s length. When nothing happened, I knelt down to peer underneath the sofa. There below, nestled behind a bit of torn silk lining that hung off the bottom of the couch, sat what remained of the nachtkrapp.
Although still of an intimidating size, perhaps twenty inches from beak to claw, it was a pathetic-looking thing now that its magic had been negated and it had become fully corporeal. The thing was damned disheveled with its empty eye sockets, molting feathers, and diseased-looking skin on its feet and legs. It was funny how even the most terrifying monsters could be reduced to a sniveling heap once you took away their magic.
I reached for it, managing to grab it by the neck only after it had pecked a bleeding hole in the back of my hand. I squeezed tightly as I pulled it out, both as payback for the wound and to ensure it didn’t get loose. I was exhausted, and in no mood to play hide and seek with this thing all night.
The nachtkrapp cracked its beak and spoke. “Squawk! The light, jaeger, the light… put it out, put it out, put it out!”
The bird’s accent reminded me a bit of a parrot imitating Colonel Klink, and I had to make an effort to maintain a stoic demeanor as I replied. “‘It burns us,’ eh? Tell me why I shouldn’t haul you over to that spell and stick your head in it until it turns you to ash.”
The night raven flapped his wings and struggled against my grasp, to no avail. Finally, he settled down and turned one of those empty eye sockets on me.
“Beca
use, jaeger—then you’ll never find out where the children are. That is why you came, is it not? To save the little ones, yes?”
I rolled my eyes. “My patience with you wore thin about ten minutes ago, when I smelled a dead body under this building. You mean to tell me that’s not a kid?”
“No rotting children—no, none at all. Only me, is what your nose detected.”
I squeezed even harder. “You lie.”
The raven shook his head. “Squawk! No, I would not lie. Just as the fae are bound, so are my kind compelled to only speak the truth. The children live, jaeger. And I will lead you to them, if you spare me.”
“Nope, no deal. If they’re really alive, I’ll find them.” I plucked a single, oily feather from the bird’s wing, tucking it inside my Craneskin Bag. “Wherever you have those kids hidden, that feather will lead me to them with a little magic. Your time has run out, I’m afraid.”
“A divination, then! A portent! One that speaks of your future, and that of those you love. Dark days lie ahead for you, jaeger, dark days. Allow me to share what I know, and if you deem it worth one small, miserable bird’s life, then you’ll spare me. Agreed?”
Although common sense told me to just kill the damned thing, instead I considered his offer. Typically, supernatural creatures didn’t rattle off prophecies lightly. For one, entities that could divine probable futures had to expend a lot of energy to do so, which in itself was reason for most to avoid it.
Also, divination required the fortune teller to astrally project down various paths of probability, a dangerous proposition by any measure. I knew little about it, but from what I understood, even the most powerful beings could become lost while casting a divination. And if gone too long, their physical body would wither away while their astral selves would be left to wander the endless bifurcations of the twisted paths for all eternity.
If this creature was offering to tell my future—or at least, my probable future—he was desperate indeed. To be honest, his desperation couldn’t have come at a better time. I had a lot on my mind at the moment—questions that needed to be answered. Terrible and unusual things had happened recently, events that had made me doubt decisions and feelings I’d once considered a done deal.
For one, my Uncle Ed had been murdered by Cold Iron Circle operatives, and at least one responsible party was still at large. I’d dealt with the actual killers when I’d taken out the Circle bigwig whose team had carried the murder out. And although I’d gotten retribution against Commander Gunnarson and his followers, I still longed to confront the person who’d given the order—Gunnarson’s anonymous benefactor on the Circle’s High Council—to bring them to justice. Weeks later, I was still reeling from the loss, and thoughts of revenge weighed heavily on my mind.
Second on my list of Things That Were Giving Me Ulcers was my recent appointment as druid justiciar, a kind of supernatural Texas Ranger with the same sort of wide-reaching jurisdiction and authority. And while that appointment was supposed to have simplified my life considerably, instead it had complicated it immensely. Granted, the various supernatural factions and players in the Austin area no longer had the authority to push me around. But despite my change in status, I still found myself doing their bidding as they turned to me to solve various supernatural problems and interspecies squabbles. In short, I’d become more of an enforcer than an investigator, and I wanted to make that stop.
Last but not least, my deceased ex-girlfriend Jesse had shown up again—and I wasn’t talking about her ghost. No, she’d found a way to come back from the dead, in a real life, flesh and blood version of her old self.
Flesh and blood—now that was a funny term. It didn’t quite describe her current state, but the fact remained there was a walking, talking facsimile of my dead ex back at the junkyard, and I had no idea how to deal with her—or rather, it. I’d been loath to speak with Finnegas about the situation, because I knew he’d hit the roof if he found out. Or, worse, he’d ask to see her and get used to her presence all over again.
That would be a problem, considering I was pretty sure I was going to have to banish her at some point.
Oh, joy.
To say I was confused by recent events was an understatement. And while I didn’t trust the nachtkrapp, I wasn’t about to look a gift-raven in the mouth.
I extinguished the sword’s blade, laying it across my other wrist, near the raven’s throat. Despite having been on fire for most of the last ten minutes, the metal was strangely cool to the touch—a unique property of the magic it held. One of these days, I’d need to figure out where it came from and what it was all about. But that was a puzzle that could wait for another day.
“First, your name. And if you even think about saying ‘nevermore,’ I swear I’ll end you.”
“Namenlos,” the night raven answered with a cackle.
I slid the blade against the night raven’s throat and looked directly into his dead, empty eye socket. “Nameless? You are seriously trying my patience, raven!”
The bird flapped his wings frantically. “I do not lie! Namenlos is my name—all my brethren were given ambiguous names by our maker. I swear it!”
Names were power, and the foul entity that had birthed these creatures knew it. Giving them slippery names was a definite “fuck you” to any magicians who might wish to bind them into service—or banish them into eternity. I’d intended to use the thing’s name to cast a compulsion on it, but it looked like I’d have to do things the old-fashioned way.
“I’ll not kill you, but only if you agree to three stipulations. You’ll speak the truth of my divination, plain and simple. You’ll cast no curse or spell in the telling. And, you’ll also lead me to all the children you abducted during the last seven days. Do these things and I’ll spare your life. Agreed?”
“Agreed!” the night raven replied. “Ready yourself, jaeger. I have three tellings for you, no more, no less.”
“Just get on with it,” I muttered as I placed the sword inside my Craneskin Bag.
The raven kind of half-squawked and half-cawed, a noise that I assumed was meant to clear his throat. I’d have already killed the annoying little shit if I didn’t think he was telling the truth about the kids. I doubted that destroying his physical body would end his life completely, but it would at least banish him from the mortal realm for a century or two. My foot tapped an impatient rhythm as the bird shook himself, unruffling his feathers despite the fact that I still held him by the throat.
Then, he spoke.
“The first telling: Beauty binds and beauty blinds, when beauty clashes, old bonds die. After winter spring will rise, the truth revealed in serpent’s eyes.”
I frowned and scratched my head. “Well, that’s sort of obvious, except for the last part. If Bells finds out about Jesse, I’ll be in a world of hurt—and there’s no doubt those two will clash. But what’s this shit about snake eyes? You’d best do better than that with the next two tellings, raven.”
The bird squirmed a bit in my hand. “Perhaps if you loosened your grip? It is difficult to concentrate while being throttled by a bipedal moose like yourself.”
“I don’t think so. Speak.”
The bird cleared his throat again with a weak little squawk. “The second telling: Weed killer.”
I knuckled my forehead, trying hard to keep myself from snapping the bird’s neck. “‘Weed killer’? Are you serious? What the hell kind of divination is that?”
The raven cocked his head to the side. “I can only share what I see—it’s up to you to determine the meaning behind the words I speak.”
“Fine… but this last one better be good.”
“The third telling: Three ravens you must face, two in battle, the third in chase. Something precious will you lose, but what is lost you will choose.”
I sighed. “I take it you’re one of those three ravens?”
If a raven could shrug, this one did. “That is rather obvious, is it not?”
“I don
’t suppose you’d care to elaborate on when and where I’m supposed to meet with these other two ravens? Considering that they’ll probably be buddies of yours?”
Nameless twitched his tail feathers. “Just because I’m a supernatural creature who takes the form of a raven, that doesn’t mean I know every magical bird on this plane of existence. Not to mention consorting with them. It’s not like I fly around with an entire conspiracy of my kind—birds of a feather do not always flock together, jaeger.”
“A conspiracy—that’s what they call a flock of ravens, right? Fitting, all things considered.” The bird eyed me, or at least I thought it did, what with the empty eye sockets and all. “Well, you’ve proven yourself to be damned useless, so now I have to figure out what to do with you.”
“Release me!” he cawed in an avian imitation of Werner Klemperer. “We had a deal.”
I rustled around in my Bag, looking for something I could use to detain the bird temporarily. No way was I going to turn him loose, uh-uh. “You still have to lead me to the children, remember? And I only promised to spare your life—I didn’t say a damned thing about letting you go.”
“Trickster! Liar! Deceiver, perjurer, prevaricator, pseudologue!”
“Alright, Mr. Thesaurus. I’ve had about enough of you.”
I pulled out the silver thumbcuffs I’d been looking for, snapping one side around the bird’s neck. I squeezed the cuff shut, narrowing the opening click by click until I was certain the bird couldn’t slip out. Then, I pulled out a permanent marker and etched a few symbols on the surface for good measure, a spell to keep the creature bound. Finally, I taped his beak shut and pinned his wings to his side with electrical tape, tying a length of paracord to the other end of the thumbcuffs as a makeshift leash.
“There. Now, where did you leave those kids again?”
