by Rowan Casey
The sirens were getting louder so Daniel had to act.
“Hey, ugly!” Daniel bellowed as loudly as he could. The dwarf actually started to turn in response when he depressed the spray button. A hiss of nasty-smelling aerosol sprayed all over the Dvergr’s ear, then cheek, then into his eyes. It let out a howl, one Daniel never wanted to hear again. Hannah must have seen him coming because she was ready and was already swinging the axe. She was aiming for his middle, figuring to gut him, but her injured arm couldn’t support the movement and the axe’s arc dropped and struck its boot, cutting into the thick leather but also managing to topple it to the ground.
As the Dvergr rubbed at its eyes, Hannah and Daniel made for the basement door just as the red and blue lights of the first police car decorated the Center’s lobby. Their feet sounded loud to Daniel as they hurried down the single flight of stairs to the basement. It had some light, so they would be able to search for an exit of some kind or, at worst, a hiding place.
Instead, they reached the bottom of the steps and ran right into the Moderator, flanked by half-a-dozen fresh security guards.
“Are you lost?” he asked in a casual style, seemingly oblivious to the cacophony above. “I’m the Moderator, welcome to my home.”
A loud crashing sound above interrupted his next words. He and the teens looked toward the top of the stairs. The security detail continued to stare at Daniel and Hannah. At a gesture, they turned and began walking away from the stairs. The Moderator smiled and gestured for them to follow so, with little desire to return above, they followed.
They went through a corridor that led to a doorway that let them under another building and they silently walked for what Daniel estimated to be at least a city block before they wound up being ushered into a well-appointed room. There were couches, easy chairs, a small kitchenette area and even a tiny wet bar. Two of the men entered first, looked around and signaled it was safe. The Moderator and two men followed, then someone behind Daniel shoved the teens. As they crossed the threshold, their backpacks were roughly yanked off his shoulder while the other wrested the axe from Hannah, who winced in pain. Blood continued to spread along her sleeve.
The backpacks were placed on a side table and one of the men began rifling through them. As that happened, the Moderator gestured for the teens to sit while he took one of the wing-back chairs and neatly crossed his ankles and waited for them to get settled.
“So, may I ask your names? I always like to know the names of my guests,” he said.
“Hannah.”
“Daniel.”
He raised an eyebrow before asking, “No last names? Well, that’s fine for now. I think it’s safe to assume you didn’t start the ruckus above us. But you were involved. Does your arm hurt?”
Hannah shook her head once but Daniel saw the look in her eyes and knew the red haze had faded, replaced with weariness. Daniel shook his head once.
“Very good. Oh, would either of you like a drink? Philip, be so kind as to bring them water. Hannah certainly looks like she needs it.” And she did. It was as if the energy that fueled her fighting was suddenly gone and left her very weak. He would have to act for both of them, once he figured out what was happening.
The man who was searching their belongings handed the velvet bag to the leader, who placed it in his lap without once opening it to check. Instead, he allowed the two to be served water bottles, which Hannah promptly drained. With a gesture, a second was brought to her along with paper towels for her wounds.
“You actually broke in to my home and wanted to steal this from me?”
“Would you believe we did it to keep it away from that creature,” Daniel suggested. He’d been mulling over stories he could spin and since there was no denying the Devrgr’s existence, he had calculated that some semblance of the truth might be the best course for them.
“I just might, I just might at that. After all, the Dvergr is a dangerous thing,” the Moderator said as if they were discussing a breed of bird.
“It’s called a Dvergr? What is it?”
“A Dvergr, Hannah, is a member of an ancient race. They were named by the Norse and are classified as dwarves,” the man explained. “The Germanic people told stories about the dwarves, some quite colorful, others quite violent. I haven’t thought about those stories in a very long time. I haven’t seen one close up in years. And years.”
“What does it want?”
The Moderator tapped the bag in his lap. “I presume he wants this, the Horn of Brân Galed.”
“Of course you know what it is,” Hannah said, some strength returning to her voice. “You had your bitches come take it from us. Why?”
“Why indeed? I find it very interesting you, two homeless children in Brooklyn, with only a public school education would know about the Horn. Why do you want it?”
Hannah shot Daniel a glance but he was staring at the Moderator. The black things that he saw earlier slowly appeared, as if a fog surrounding them was lifting. They came into sharp focus and two caressed his neck and ears. One, by the man’s right shoulder, looked up and then over, staring directly at Daniel. He shut his eyes and jerked his head away.
“Something wrong?”
Daniel turned his head and opened one eye slowly, looking at Hannah, seeing the look of concern on her face.
“No, nothing.”
“Very well. Now, I was asking of your interest in something very old, very important.”
Daniel struggled to come up with something to say but knew there was no way he could talk about Grimm or the Veil. His instincts were screaming at him to shut up and get away. The room, though, had one door with the largest of the security detail between him and it.
“Nothing to say? Well, let me tell you a story and let’s see if this is close to correct. You didn’t know about the Horn until recently. Someone told you about it and asked you to find it. Somehow, you accomplished just that and I applaud your resourcefulness. But, as you can see, you are not the only ones with such an interest in it. There’s the Dvergr, for reasons I’m sure he’ll never divulge, and then there’s me. I like things that unify a people. After all, when I talk of a world without borders, where we can be one people, I am not daydreaming.”
He sounded so calm, so sincere, so confident that Daniel wasn’t sure why he was seeing such inky black things all around him. However, he also used their presence as a reminder that this was the man who commanded his people to rob and old man and beat teenagers to acquire the Horn. The why remained as elusive as was getting out. He looked around the room with just his eyes, studying the space, the vents, the door, and tried to determine if the security team had guns or just less lethal tools. He chided Hannah about not planning and he needed a plan. Some divine intervention would be nice, too.
Sudden realization appeared to the Moderator’s eyes. He looked down at the bagged Horn and then at the two teenagers. He stared with an intensity that bothered Daniel who refused to meet his gaze.
“He sent you, didn’t he? Grimm or did he reveal himself as Merlin? Of course, he’s been watching you all and has decided the time has come for action. That puts everything into play which changes things considerably.” This sounded spoken more to himself than to the teens, which was fine with Daniel.
But this man was close to the truth which meant he must have known about the Veil and the danger facing the world. That certainly explained how he knew about the Dvergr. Still, none of this explained why he wanted it or who he really was.
“The Veil is finally falling apart isn’t it?” he asked directly to Daniel.
Yeah, he knew everything so there was little benefit in denying it. “Yeah,” he told the man. The Moderator nodded once, his fingers absently stroking the velvet bag.
“That changes everything, it really does. How much do you know? Have the other artifacts been found? How much time is there?”
There was a long pause before Daniel replied. “We haven’t been told much so I have no idea.”
“Always playing things close to the vest, that’s our Merlin. I think he just likes playing Mr. Mysterioso just to mess with people. I can only imagine what it must have been like to be told magic was real and by the way, you are now tasked with saving the world. You’re a little young to be saving the world, aren’t you?”
“I don’t know, we haven’t tried yet,” Hannah shot back, sounding like herself again.
“True. And you won’t now, because I have your prize. I’m sure you’ll want to bargain for it, or threaten me, or try to tell Merlin you need help. But really, you’re down here and I am told the cell reception is nonexistent.” Plus, Daniel noted, there were no landlines or computers evident. They really were cut off from the outside world.
“But, why do you want it?”
“Hannah, you can feel its power can’t you? My men here, they can’t. They think I’m some crazy guy with a growing cult. They take my money but don’t see my vision for the future, nor can they sense the power needed to bring it to fruition. Some of my gatekeepers heard you mention Grimm and the horn, I was told. Everyone was tasked with listening for key words because, well, one never knows. I like to be prepared, its one reason I’m still here after all these years. And I knew something was happening and if there was power to be had, I’d need it.
“You see, children…”
“…we’re not children,” Hannah spat. “We’re just about adults now and need that to save the world.”
“That’s what Merlin told you. What else did he say? Did he name all the knights? Which ones are you supposed to be?”
Daniel slightly shook his head, warning off Hannah, hoping she caught his move. The less they revealed to this man, the better. At least until they understood more.
The silence lingered heavily in the air for a few moments and the Moderator shifted his feet, still stoking the bag, and waved a hand in the air.
“Can you even name all the knights?”
Hannah ducked her head a moment and the Moderator chuckled at that. “Of course you can’t. You worry about modern day things; group chatting, and flirting, fashion, and Snapchat. You have devolved to having a gnat’s attention span. The long view is beyond you all.”
“Well, don’t you sound all high and mighty,” Hannah shot out.
At that, the Moderator’s chuckle went into a laugh. “Me? No, I am anything but high and mighty. I never have been. I’ve never been allowed. Now, which knights were you once upon a time?”
He briefly closed his eyes, looking within, possibly performing magic or using ESP. When he opened them he smiled in Daniel’s direction and walked over to the teen.
“Cousin Yvain,” the Moderator said and gave him a kiss on the cheek. It took all his willpower not to recoil in disgust. The touch was brief and moist.
Cousin? Daniel was trying to recall what he about Sir Yvain and who he was related to. Wasn’t it Morgan le Fay? But they met Morgan, so who was this man? He was nervous and couldn’t focus.
He turned to Hannah and rested a reassuring hand on her forearm although the touch made her react with revulsion.
“You are irresponsible, reckless. I would wager you were once Sir Bors the Younger.” He peered at her for confirmation but she gritted her teeth and gave away nothing.
Daniel wracked his brain, shifting from looking for an escape to trying to determine who this man really was. He knew too much to be a mere cult leader. He had to be like Merlin, someone who had survived the centuries, letting his power lay dormant until now. Who was he? The problem all along was that they were never properly briefed by Dante Grimm. In school, there were chapters assigned, handouts provided, and clear goals laid out. At Avalon, there were sounds and lights and a pretty huge reveal, followed by a demon attack, but once they were told go find the Horn, that was it. They’d been frustrated by not knowing everything and maybe Grimm did that through neglect or design. Daniel didn’t know and desperately wanted to survive this so he could ask.
The Moderator studied both teens. “It really doesn’t matter if you can name your fellow knights or not. There are twelve of you running around trying to find the ancient treasures. You want to assemble the weapon and preserve the Veil.
“I felt the cracks, too, you know. I suspected there were forces at work and the entire planet might be threatened. Was I consulted? Of course not. Merlin went about making his plans. Morgan is off somewhere making her own. She probably wants the artifacts, too, using her own vassals.
“I was left on my own and made my own way, my own plans. I founded the White Mountain to rally the people, to make them think about their world in a different way. I was trying to raise a global family and hoped I had the time to turn them into an army so mankind could fight for themselves. A world that didn’t need the knights so they would remain dormant. But once I heard you were after Horn, well, that changed the game plan. There’s no time for my plan to achieve fruition – again. So, yes, I want the horn. I want its power to have a voice in Earth’s defense. Or, should we fail, have a bargaining chip. One of the nine would no doubt like to have this to prevent Merlin from ever shutting the door on them again.”
Now it made sense to Daniel. Somehow, the Dvergr had gotten the same sensation he and Hannah had. Something about their activation and return to Brooklyn alerted the creature to crawl out from wherever he had hidden and find the Horn. If it possessed it, Merlin would fail and the Veil would crumble. He would be reunited with his brethren and the other hideous races that wanted to turn Earth into a charnel house.
The Moderator wanted to play for the winning side. Not so much for humanity’s sake, but to somehow rub Merlin’s nose in failure or, have Merlin ask for his help. This was personal to the man, meaning he was definitely part of what was considered Arthurian legend.
“You are thinking this through, I see,” the man said, rising. “I also see all the questions in your eyes. Who is this man? What’s his connection? You two really know nothing, do you?”
“We knew enough to find the horn,” Hannah shot back.
“Yes, and how did you do that? You two have a connection to it. As do the other knights. As do Merlin, Morgan, and I.”
“Okay, enough with the hints,” Hannah demanded. “Who the hell are you?”
“I’m the Moderator,” he said with a warm smile. As the smile faded, though, Daniel saw age-old hurt in his eyes quickly replaced with hatred. He saw a man who had suffered and had his soul blackened because of it, which explained the dark things Daniel saw all too comfortably crawling over him.
“I am also known by many names through the years. But when I was born, I was named Mordred.”
He paused, expecting a reaction but when Hannah and Daniel merely stared expectantly, he grew frustrated.
“Mordred, the bastard son of Arthur and Morgan Le Fay. Mordred, who slew Arthur at the Battle of Camlann.”
“Oh,” Hannah said. “Sorry, I don’t recall that.”
Daniel laughed at Mordred’s consternation which was quickly replaced with anger. “You know nothing! This is why you will fail. This is why the Veil will crumble and a brand new hell will reign over this world. And it’s Merlin’s fault for sending children without adult supervision.”
The words were meant to hurt them both, but Daniel conceded that the man may have a point. Merlin hadn’t properly prepared them and this was the result. They found the horn but so did the Dvergr and so did the Moderator. If either of them prevailed, he and Hannah failed and the world, the whole wide world, would suffer for it. He felt a knot form in the pit of his stomach, all thoughts of escape gone. All thoughts of hope vanished, too.
“I have a way to make Merlin beg and that will be a delight. And if you knights are here, then so is my father. Have you met him?”
“Nope,” Daniel said.
“You lie,” the Moderator said, his eyes blazing and he loomed over the seated figures. “You lie and you fail and you will watch the world burn.”
“Fuck that!” said Ha
nnah as she leapt from her seat.
13
Hannah
Her sudden burst of action surprised the six people charged with guarding the Moderator, or Mordred, whoever the hell that was. She continued to berate herself for being so ill-informed about the legacy they were now connected to. Those thoughts were violently shoved to the rear of her mind as she let instincts that were asleep and now flowed through her from fingertips to toes take over. She head-butted the woman nearest her and then ducked under the outstretched arms of the next guard, a man who moved slowly.
While still crouched, she pushed the heel of her right hand sharply into the crotch of the next man, watching him double over with a grimace. Springing to her feet, she twisted and brought her elbow into the nose of the woman trying to reach for her. Out of the corner of an eye, she saw another man reach for his baton, snapping it into position. Rather than panic, she grabbed the identical weapon from the woman now cradling her bleeding nose, and matched his pose.
She felt energized in a way that was new to her, and yet, was also deeply familiar. Earlier, when she was dealing with her rivals from the home, she was fighting differently, with less confidence, but she thought that was anger-fueled fighting. Since she’d been “activated” by Grimm, she’d been feeling different. Her reflexes and senses felt heightened, and here she was fighting with skills she had never learned in gym. It would have been nice to dole out some martial arts pain, making her a true bad ass, but she’d have to settle for the fighting skills that a knight of old once possessed. Or at least, that’s how she rationalized it.
Daniel, after some hesitation, realized he had to move as well. Sidestepping around her as she broke the woman’s nose, he reached for the Moderator, a soft, pudgy target. His captor defensively wrapped his arms around the velvet bag, leaving him open to the teen’s assault. Her partner was no fighter, she’d seen that already, but Hannah hoped he could handle one guy.
After that, she pushed him from her thoughts and concentrated instead on not getting tagged by the two batons now swinging towards her. She wielded hers like a sword and parried one and swatted the other away. With a wicked grin, she smacked hers flat against the ass of the nearest man. A fist missed her chin and landed softly in her ample chest, something that stung but was easily absorbed. A second punch threw her off-balance and she stumbled backwards, narrowly avoiding an agent’s outstretched arms.
