by Cameron Jace
“You’re right,” Loki clasped his hands behind his back, wishing he could scream and express that he couldn’t take it anymore. “It was silly. It seems I was banned for a good reason. I do have a weakness toward demon girls—”
“—and squirrels,” Charmwill added.
“Yes, demon girls and squirrels, sir,” Loki quietly questioned how in the world liking both of those creatures could be considered a bad thing. “I just thought I’d tell you about the incident because the man also claimed the vampire’s name is…well…Snow White,” Loki rolled his eyes.
Charmwill turned to face Loki, and Pickwick’s eyes widened. “What did you just say?” Charmwill asked. “Snow White?”
“Yes. Can you believe that? He even said she was the real Snow White,” Loki tried to sound casual.
“What did the man say the town’s name was?”
“I am a little confused about that,” Loki waved a hand. “The man said the town’s name is Hell. Then Lucy gave me a card that said its name is Sorrow. I guess Sorrow is a smaller town in Hell or something. I know it all sounds ridiculous.”
Charmwill didn’t find any of this funny. Loki hadn’t seen him look so serious before, brushing his beard again and looking a bit dazed.
“Sit down, Loki,” Charmwill said firmly. “It’s time I tell you about something.”
“OK?” Loki sat down reluctantly. He hated when people made introductions to their speeches. It usually meant bad news.
“You know it’s your sixteenth birthday next week, and you’ve only killed thirty six vampires so far, right?” Charmwill placed his hands over the desk and leaned forward.
“Thirty seven, sir,” Loki corrected him.
“No. The one in Forks, Seattle, was resurrected. Someone dug him up from his grave, and pulled the stake out of his chest.”
Loki gritted his teeth. How was he supposed to kill vampires that were so easily resurrected? You just pull the stake out, and they came back.
“At this point, it would be foolish to pretend that you’ll kill ninety-nine vampires before next week,” Charmwill followed. “You have to know that when I unshadowed you, I only told you about the rules because the Council of Heaven wouldn’t release you unless I did.”
“I will always be grateful, sir,” Loki felt obliged to say.
“The truth is that I didn’t really care if the Council of Heaven forgave you,” Charmwill said. “I really cared about you for reasons I wish not to discuss now,” he avoided Loki’s eyes, saying the last sentence, and then looked back. “And part of my caring was that you get a second chance in life, whether here in the Ordinary World or back home. Frankly, I was hoping you’d like it here in the Ordinary World, and maybe spend the rest of your life here.”
“But, sir, I hate it here,” Loki gripped the edge of the desk. “People are mean to me, and to animals. I have a hard time making friends, and I think Minikins are—“
“Stupid, I know.”
“Besides, why would I want to be mortal when I could live forever?” Loki wondered, and Pickwick nodded for it seemed a plausible argument.
“I can understand your reasoning, Loki,” Charmwill said. “On the contrary, I like those Minikins. I find them amusing. I like their mortality, occasional stupidity, and flaws.”
”But I don’t, sir,” Loki said. “I want to go back home. I know they don’t like me there because I made a mistake that I don’t remember, but I’ll do anything to get them to forgive me.”
“Anything?” Charmwill leaned forward.
“Anything, sir,” Loki stressed. “If not for the sake of going home, then to know who my dad is, what I did wrong, and who that girl I fell in love with was. How do you expect me to move forward when I don’t know my past?”
“As your guardian, it’s my duty to teach you and help you fulfill the destiny you choose,” Charmwill leaned back in his chair. “And now that you’ve decided, you should know that everything the man on the phone told you is true,” Charmwill stopped Loki from interrupting so he could explain further. “There is a sixteen year old vampire called Snow White. She is a troubled girl with a mysterious past, who lives in a castle in a town called Sorrow. It’s more of an island than town, and it can only be reached by passing through another town called Hell.”
“So there is actually a town called Hell?” Loki wondered.
“There are many towns called Hell in America. You can easily spot them on the map,” Charmwill said. “There is Hell in Michigan, in the Cayman Islands, in Cleveland, Ohio, in California, in Arizona, and in Kentucky. All of these towns serve as portals to the island of Sorrow—its residents like to call it a town, but it’s actually an island. The vampire Snow White lives in that town. We’re talking about things few people know about.”
“But Lucy looked like an ordinary Minikin,” Loki considered.
“Sorrow is a special place with special secrets,” Charmwill interrupted him. “You shouldn’t bother yourself knowing much about people like Lucy.”
“So what should I bother with, sir?”
Charmwill stared directly into Loki’s eyes, “That killing Snow White is worth ninety-nine vampires in the eyes of the Council of Heaven,” he said.
“What?” Loki snapped.
“Like I said, if you kill this Snow White vampire in Sorrow, you will be forgiven and allowed to go home.”
“Why didn’t you tell me that a year ago?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” Charmwill raised an eyebrow. “You’re scared of girls, Loki. How did you expect me to tell you about her a year ago? I thought you might either like this Ordinary World or kill ninety-nine vampires, or even overcome your fear of monster girls. You didn’t do any of that. Now, you’re left with the only chance to fulfill your destiny.”
“By killing the kind of vampire I am scared of the most,” Loki shrugged his shoulders.
“Nothing comes easy. If you want to go back, you will need to face your fears this time. Going to Sorrow will be your greatest challenge because it will not only tell you who you are, but what you are capable of, and that’s the most important to me,” Charmwill took a casual drag from his pipe.
“So all I have to do is go to Sorrow through a portal in a town called Hell, kill Snow White and it will be over?”
Charmwill nodded.
“I will have to face my fears,” Loki said to himself. “But what if I kill her and someone pulls the stake out later like the dude in Forks? I am afraid they’ll ban me again,” he replied eagerly.
“That’s why you will need this,” Charmwill handed him a thick, but small notebook.
Loki picked it up. It was old with yellowish pages and hundreds of hand-written drawings and instructions. He flipped through it once without reading anything specifically. The notebook’s title read: The Dreamhunter’s Guide.
“Dreamhunter?” Loki said.
“You wanted to know about your past, and one of the things you didn’t know about was that you were a Dreamhunter like your father, a very good one, too.”
“I am? And what does a Dreamhunter do? I didn’t know my father was one, too,” Loki was excited.
“A Dreamhunter is the only hunter that has the ability to kill Demortals, which is the name we call a certain kind of immortal demon including vampires. Demortal demons don’t die, no matter how many times you stake them. Like the vampire in Forks, once you pull the stake out of them they will come to life again. However, only a skilled Dreamhunter can get rid of them,” Charmwill leaned forward again.
“How so?”
“A Dreamhunter stakes a vampire in their dreams while they’re asleep so they can never wake up again. The Demortal’s mind can’t comprehend the idea of being killed in their dreams and it paralyzes their brains and they can’t wake up again in the real world.”
“Even when someone pulls the stake out?” Loki had to ask again.
Charmwill nodded. “The only way to kill the vampire girl in Sorrow is to kill her in her dreams, which is practi
cally not killing her, but putting her to sleep forever, which is good enough.”
“Is that why they were looking for me?” Loki wondered. “Lucy said there was some kind of prophecy about only one person being able to kill the vampire.”
“I don’t know about that, but I know that if you learn what it’s in this notebook, you can do it,” Charmwill said.
Loki flipped through the tiny pages and saw a picture of a vampire lying on her back with a stake in her heart. A circle of candles surrounded the vampire, and two mirrors stood opposite to each other on both sides, tangent to the circle. A boy who was Loki’s age lay stretched on his back next to the vampire girl. The few lines written underneath the picture explained that the boy recited a spell to enter the vampire’s dreams to kill her. It didn’t make much sense, but the notebook was thick and Loki was excited that he had a lot to read concerning what he did before he was shadowed.
But when Loki finished reading the page, something strange happened. The page dissolved as if it had turned into sand, and was simply gone. Loki couldn’t believe what he just saw and gazed back at Charmwill for answers.
“The Dreamhunters Guide is a special kind of notebook that’s called a Book of Sand,” Charmwill explained. “Books of Sand have magical pages that once read dissolve into sand and never appear again.”
“Why?”
“To let you know how precious every word you read is,” Charmwill said, “and to prevent enemies from learning the skill. Any Book of Sand is only readable once every one hundred years. I see you’ve wasted a page already, and I hope you remembered what you’ve read and seen.”
“Wow,” Loki said. “This is magic happening to me,” he tucked his book safely in his pocket and intended to read it thoroughly later. “So I’m not a loser after all,” Loki smiled, staring at the daylight outside the window. “I’m a Dreamhunter. You heard that, Pickwick?”
The parrot fluttered its wings enthusiastically, and again, Loki thought it was harsh that Charmwill had turned it into a mute parrot. Of all the animals that talked to Loki, Pickwick couldn’t.
“And here is another little gift from me,” Charmwill pulled a backpack from under his desk and placed it on the table.
“You got me a backpack?”
“This one is different. It’s called a Wondersack,” Charmwill said. “And it’d better if you don’t open it now. When you read the Dreamhuter’s guide, you will know exactly what you need from this Wondersack and under what circumstances you will need them. Now, it’s time for you to start your journey, Loki,” Charmwill stood up and stretched out his hand. Loki stood up and shook his hand respectfully. He felt honored shaking Charmwill’s hand. “I hope you find what you’re looking for,” Charmwill squeezed Loki’s hand a bit too tight. “There are a few last words I feel like I need to tell you. It’s just a small piece of advice that I have learned through the years.”
“Please, tell me,”
“Follow your bliss,” Charmwill smiled. Loki thought it was a very short and vague smile.
“I will,” Loki said reluctantly. The advice sounded lame and he didn’t understand what it meant. “Aren’t you coming along with me?” Loki wondered, feeling lost for a moment. He’d never been anywhere without Charmwill nearby. It would be scary to go on his journey without him.
“I am afraid, not,” Charmwill said. “It’s your journey, Loki. Not mine. But I’ll always be in here,” he pointed at Loki’s heart.
“But—”
“Don’t say anything now, not even goodbye. ‘Goodbye’ is a word even worse than ‘sorry’, although it’s sometimes inevitable.”
Other than feeling scared without Charmwill, Loki suddenly realized how much he loved him, even with all that crap he told about fairy tales.
“I should also tell you that you’re not prohibited from responding to bullies or getting in trouble once you enter Sorrow,” Charmwill said.
“I’m not?”
“Sorrow is a place where you should find what your heart desires, and to do so, you’ll have to be whoever you choose to be. There would be no point of preventing you from responding to annoying Minikins in Sorrow. You’ll be facing your greatest fear by trying to kill a demon girl already.”
Loki liked the idea passionately. Finally, he’d be able to stand up for what he believed in.
“Now, go,” Charmwill said. “You have only a week to find what you’re looking for.”
Loki respected the fact that Charmwill didn’t want to say goodbye, and turned around, walking to the door. He did it abruptly before Charmwill noticed his moist eyes. He didn’t like anyone seeing him cry.
“One more thing,” Charmwill said before Loki left, having sat down at his desk, writing again.
“Yes, sir?” Loki had gripped the door and preferred not to turn around. He hoped Charmwill changed his mind and decided to accompany him.
“Is the squirrel safe now?” Charmwill asked unexpectedly.
“Excuse me?” Loki said.
“You said you couldn’t kill Dork Dracula because you had to save a squirrel,” Charmwill said.
“Yes, sir, I saved it, and set it free. It should be safe and sound somewhere,” Loki answered.
“Good,” Charmwill said. “Heroes always save the squirrel.”
A wide smile took shape in Loki’s heart as he opened the door and stepped out to begin his journey without Charmwill for the first time.
4
Babushka’s Alicorn
Leaving Snoring behind was like escaping a closet Loki had been trapped in for a very long time; yanking the door open and starting a new life was way past due. Even Carmen felt good about it. Being a clunky, almost shattered Cadillac didn’t deter her from helping Loki to reach his destination. She rattled and chugged on the bumpy highway while Loki tapped his fingers on the wheel, singing along with the radio. Today, Carmen played a song called ‘Highway to Hell’ by another imaginary—or deceased—band called the Sweet Pickleheads. The band was very good, even if they were all dead.
Loki had what looked like a cigarette between his lips. Although he didn’t smoke, and despised smokers, he thought the act made him look older, and seemed to make people take him seriously. The trick had worked before when clients doubted his ability to kill vampires due to his young age.
But that was in the past. He didn’t need to kill ninety- nines vampires anymore; only one special princess in a haunted castle was enough. He tried not to think too much about his weakness toward demon girls for the moment.
What excited Loki was the Dreamhunter’s notebook on his dashboard. He was curious about all the things he had to learn, and he planned to read it as soon as he got the chance. For now, he patted it while driving; assuring himself that he wasn’t a loser. He was a Dreamhunter. Although he didn’t know how a Dreamhunter killed Demortals exactly, it still felt amazing to be important.
Driving under the waning moonlight, Loki gazed into the mirror to check a pimple on his cheek.
“Aaahhh!” Loki screamed as he almost hit the brakes with his foot. His eyes nearly popped out of his skull, and his jaw dropped while the cigarette clung loosely to the drool on his lower lip. There was a ghost in a white hood sitting in his backseat.
The ghost had long, black hair waving from underneath the hood as if floating underwater. Its face was hollow and had two glowing-red spots where the eyes should be. For a moment, Loki’s scream startled the ghost; unexpectedly, it bounced against the windows like a ball in a pinball machine—Loki had assumed ghosts walked through walls, but there was no time to argue.
When the ghost finally settled in the middle of the backseat, Loki watched it reach for him. It had skeleton fingers that shimmered like a wraith out of a movie projector, and when it reached for his face, Loki tried not to wet himself.
The ghost snatched the unlit cigarette from Loki’s drooling lips then disappeared underneath the hood again. Loki heard a flicker of a match followed by the sound of the ghost drawing on the cigarette,
finally puffing out spirals of curly smoke into the car.
“How many times have I warned you about cigarettes?” the ghost complained, talking in a heavy Russian accent, staring at him in the mirror. Loki watched the ghost’s face slowly turn corporeal.
Wait. I know that ghost!
Loki let out a long sigh. It was all right. The ghost was just his—
“Mom?” he squinted in the mirror.
“Who else scares you like I do?” she said, looking happy while smoking her stolen cigarette.
“You look…awful,” Loki said. “And scary,” he meant it as compliment. Ghosts love to look scary.
“Behave, Loki,” she pouted in her own monstrous way. “I don’t look awful. I’m only aging. I was the prom queen when I was your age.”
Yeah, yeah. Everyone’s mom was the prom queen.
“You look more like my ex-mom, mom,” he mumbled, shying away from her hollow eyes. Although she was turning corporeal, Loki had always wondered why his mom was different from other ghosts. She didn’t have the ability to venture through walls, and she looked more like a zombie than a ghost.
“Naughty boy,” she slapped him on the cheek. “Didn’t I ask you not to call me ‘mom’? It makes me feel old.”
“You are old, mom—I mean Babushka,” Loki hated calling her by that name. His earliest memory of her was from just a year ago after Charmwill had unshadowed him. While Charmwill took care of him, she was rarely around. She only appeared when she felt like it, criticizing his sleeping habits, reminding him to brush his teeth before sleep, urging him to clean his car, knitting the holes in his trousers and socks, and pestering him about meeting an earthly girl he could fall in love with and marry. Calling her Babushka was silly; he needed to taste the word mom on his lips more often. It made him feel loved.
