Fire And Steel (The Merryweather Chronicles Book 2)

by Lesley Woodral

  Brandon followed Gerrick out of the kitchen and through the house. They went to the weapons room. Gerrick picked up a short ornamental sword with cursive looking runes carved into the blade and handed it to Brandon. It had a supple leather sheath that belted at the waist. Brandon looked at the blade, then at his uncle. "There's no way I can take this to school with me."

  Gerrick said. "I called Principal Marcus while you were changing. He is going to allow you to wear it, but you'd do best not to let anyone else know that the blade is real."

  Brandon nodded. "No problem." He sheathed the sword and met his uncle's gaze. "Let's hope that I don't have to use it."

  "Let's hope so."

  Claire stood in her room, examining herself in a mirror much like the one that Brandon had in his room at Highgarden. The dress fit surprisingly well for a costume she found on the rack at Wal-Mart. She had tossed aside the flimsy plastic belt that came with it, replacing it with a supple leather belt of her own. Unlike Brandon, the dagger sheathed on her hip was made of plastic. But its lack of realness didn't spoil the illusion in the least. She had her long golden locks pinned up and her bangs were teased out to look exactly like Tinkerbell's. Her hair wasn't perfectly coifed, but it looked very close to what she wanted it to look like the following night.

  Her mother came into the room carrying a pair of glittery fairy wings. She said. "I did the best I could, but I want your opinion?" She held them out, extending them so that Claire could examine the intricate scroll work and the pretty lace edging.

  Claire loved it and told her mother so. "They're beautiful!" She reached to grab them, but her mother pulled them back and eyed the hem of her skirt.

  She said. "You don't think that skirt might be just a tad short? It's supposed to be cold tomorrow night, you know?" Her tone was just oh so casual.

  Claire suppressed a sigh and smiled at her mother. "It really was the only one I found that even halfway fit. But, if it will make you feel better, I was planning on wearing tights with it."

  Her mom just laughed and shook her head, handing over the wings and turning to leave. Claire resisted the urge to stick out her tongue and stepped back in front of the mirror. Getting the wings on and situated took a minute, but soon she was posing in front of the mirror. She made duck faces at the mirror and practiced some of Tinkerbell's signature poses. The dress might have been a little snug in the hips but she didn't mind. Otherwise, it was perfect. She was tempted to take a selfie or two, but didn't. She was still getting used to Brandon not having a cell phone. She wasn't sure what she would do without hers. Though, lately, her's was nothing more than a glorified calculator and camera. She had gone whole days now without having a signal that was worth a damn. She could text usually, but actually making a phone call was hit or miss.

  She did a slow pirouette, holding her arms out as she spun in a circle and laughed aloud. She knew that being happy while surrounded by so much darkness and uncertainty could maybe be took as a sign of being crazy, but she didn't care. Just thinking about Brandon made her feel so good inside. So safe.

  So loved.

  Without warning, the room around her sank into shadow. The light above and from her bedside lamp dimmed and was extinguished by the growing shadows. Claire slowed her spinning until she finally stopped in front of the mirror, the only thing in the room still visible. The air in her bedroom was chilly, clammy against her arms and legs, and raised goosebumps on her bare skin.

  She knew that she should have been panicking. She didn't know what was happening. She could have been having a seizure? For all she knew, she was lying on her bedroom floor, convulsing and choking on her own tongue. Or it could be something far worse?

  The Curse.

  Brandon's enemy could have decided to strike at Brandon through her? Attacking her with some kind of dark twisted magic?

  But neither of those were the answer. She wasn't panicking. She wasn't on the floor or being attacked. She didn't know why or how she could be so sure this was the case, but she was. Whatever was happening was real and it was something that she had caused herself. Maybe by letting herself fall into a daydream about Brandon? Thinking about their love for one another?

  She stood in front of the mirror, not the least bit surprised that she couldn't see herself in it. Instead, she saw a bird's eye view of the town of Matheson. The view wasn't static. It dipped and rushed toward the earth, flying low over the rooftops. Claire's stomach lurched with the illusion of movement and she realized she was no longer standing in front of her mirror. She was flying through the air, as light and formless as the darkness that enveloped her. Below her, the low slung rooftops of the town gave way to the treetops of the Briar Woods.

  She dropped ever lower, flashing through the tangled branches of trees that were old before the town was born. Lower, Now scraping the forest floor, scattering leaves and pine needles in her wake, she chased after darting shadows. Trailing the evil that fouled her world as it slipped through the forest like a poison in its bloodstream, she had only the barest notion of self as the vision took her completely.

  One of the lurking shadows moved into the moonlight, revealing a nightmare mix of bird and man. Its hooked beak was crusted with black dried blood and its eyes were large black pools that reflected the light. The thing stopped and tested the air with a jerk of its head, seeming to sense Claire's presence. The tiny part of herself that still existed within the vision pulled back in sudden fear, but the thing dropped its head and continued into the forest.

  The vision lurched and spun, carrying her deeper into the forest. Past narrow streams and thick tangled copses of trees, deep into the heart of the Briar Woods, until Claire was in a place that hadn't seen a living human being in twenty years. Breaking through a heavy barrier of broken trees and thorns, she found herself in a sudden clearing. Hidden from above by a screen of overlapping branches, the clearing was about twenty paces across. In the center stood a circle of tall stones. Some were whole while others were broken and jagged, fragments of shattered rock littered around their base.

  She moved toward the stone circle and there was a rough hole cut into one side, leading down into the earth. Down into the hole she went, flying along a staircase made of pitted stone, deeper and deeper into the earth. The spiraling descent was pitch black at first, but soon a strange light began to brighten Claire's surroundings. It seemed to emanate from the walls, casting a golden glow on the surrounding stone and the doors that had begun to appear every so often. Each door was identical, except for different symbols carved into the ancient looking wood.

  The vision shivered around her, temporarily returning her to her bedroom, before snapping back into place. Claire stood in front of a door, the symbol marred by a bloody hand print, and watched it swing open, revealing yet another vision. She saw herself standing in the middle of an open field. She was alone. She held a brightly glowing sword in her hands. All around her, thousands of monsters were howling and rushing at her with their weapons out and waving above their horrible heads.

  Claire watched the horde crash down onto the lonely figure below, extinguishing the light from the burning blade, and felt despair in her heart. If their was a deeper meaning to the vision before her, Claire couldn't see it. But she felt it.

  She was in danger.

  A light bloomed in the darkness below, sparking between the lashing claws and snapping teeth, and Claire felt a flutter of hope stir in her breast. The lone girl below slashed and stabbed and battered her way to the top of the heap. A bright and shining light in the darkness.

  Then she looked up at the sky, meeting the gaze of the invisible thing hovering above her, and the vision shattered.

  Claire hit her knees, gasping for breath. She stared at her bedroom floor for a long time before pushing herself back to her feet. She avoided looking at the mirror as she made her way to her bathroom and knelt on the floor beside the toilet. She sat like that for a long time, wanting to throw up, but not able to do it.

  The vi
sion was still vivid inside her head. She felt she could still see the darkness creeping in the corner of her eye. She didn't know what was happening to her. Why she was suddenly seeing things and spouting out the kind of stuff you usually expected to see on a little slip of paper taken from a broken cookie? It had started when Brandon came into her life, she knew that, but it wasn't anything that he did on purpose. She loved him, nothing had ever been more clear to her, but the magic surrounding him was touching the other people in his life. Changing them. Into what, she did not know. But she knew that whatever happened in the next few months, Matheson and the people that dwelled there would never be the same.

  CHAPTER 8

  The night of the dance, Gerrick drove Brandon to Claire's house, letting him out at the curb. As Brandon climbed out, adjusting the sword on his hip, Gerrick said. "Be watchful tonight. There's dark magic in the air. And just because I don't think anything will happen at the dance tonight, doesn't necessarily mean nothing bad can happen. Sha'ha'Zel is still out there. He may not be able to kill you because of the curse, but he can still hurt you. And Claire. Keep your eyes open and your guard up."

  "Yes, sir." Brandon said. "Be careful on the hunt tonight. And good luck."

  Gerrick just nodded. "Have fun if you can. Good times may be few and far between in the coming days, so you have to savor them when they appear."

  Brandon smiled and said. "I'll try." He closed the door and watched his uncle drive off before turning and walking through the gate to Claire's house. He walked through the early evening light, the cool wind cutting across his stockinged legs, and took the steps up to the porch two at a time. He was about to knock on the door when it opened and Diana smiled out at him.

  She said. "Happy Halloween, Brandon." She looked at his costume and smiled. "You look great." She stepped back and let him into the house. Brandon kept his hand on the pommel of his sword as he stepped into the living room.

  Claire's dad was sitting on the living room couch, watching TV. He stood as Brandon stepped into the living room. Smiling broadly, he said. "You two are going to match perfectly."

  "Quiet, you." Diana said, shushing her husband. "Let's let him be the judge, okay?"

  Kevin chuckled. "I suppose you're right." He smiled at Brandon and said. "Claire should be down in a sec."

  Diana was about to say something, but stopped as Claire appeared at the top of the staircase and started down. She smiled and said. "You look beautiful, honey."

  Brandon had to agree. Standing at the foot of the stairs, he watched Claire walk down and felt his jaw slowly drop. Her dress was the same shade of green as his jerkin, with a ragged hem that stopped shorter than some mini skirts. It was cinched at the waist with a narrow leather belt that accentuated her curves. She wore flesh colored stockings. The dress was also cut lower than Brandon had anticipated. Her father cleared his throat as she made it down the stairs. He said. "It's going to be chilly tonight. Don't you think that you might need a jacket?"

  The look Claire shot her dad was cool. Diana arched an eyebrow at her husband, but she was smiling. Kevin shrugged and smiled a hopeless smile. He said. "You look stunning, baby doll. Just fantastic!"

  "Thank you."Claire said to her dad, as prim as you please. But she was looking at Brandon. Her beautiful green eye was full of nervous anticipation. Her eye patch was a matching shade of green, with a scatter of glitter across the fabric. A pair of glittery wings rose above her bare shoulders, accentuating her bangs and completing the illusion. "Hello, Peter Pan."

  "Hello, Tink." Brandon said. He was proud that his voice was even and didn't squeak when he spoke. "You look absolutely gorgeous." It sounded lame, he knew, but he couldn't find the words to describe how incredible she looked. Not with her parents standing there.

  "You don't look so bad, yourself." She said, smiling at him. She did a little spin, showing off her glittery wings, and laughed. "I feel like I could fly to the dance. It's a shame I don't have real fairy dust."

  Brandon smiled and held out his hand. "I'll fly with you, if you'll let me?"

  Claire took his hand and then looked over at her dad. "We're ready to go, dad. If you want to drive us?"

  Kevin was already pulling on his coat. He smiled at her, his eyes a little tight around the corners. He couldn't help but see his little girl when he looked at the young woman looking up at him. She was growing up so damn fast. It was hard to believe that only a few years ago the idea of going to a dance with a boy would have set her off giggling and hiding her face. Now he looked at her and saw a mirror image of the woman that he fell in love with. He looked at Brandon and said. "I want you two to be careful tonight. There's a lot of bad things going on lately and nobody seems to be able to get anywhere with stopping any of it."

  Brandon nodded, his face solemn. He said. "We'll be careful, sir."

  Claire just smirked at her dad and said, her voice playful."We'll be a lot more careful when we're at the dance, dad."

  Kevin smiled and said. "Let's go then, Tinkerbell. Neverland is waiting."

  Of course, leaving wasn't as simple as all that. They had to pose for a dozen or so pictures that Claire's mom insisted on taking. It was full dark when they finally reached the school. The high school and cafeteria parking lots were packed with cars. Students and teachers alike. There were police cars parked at each end of the cafeteria. Officers watched and patrolled the school grounds, walking in the early evening darkness with their guns on their hips. There were also parents posted at different points around the school grounds. The rest of the police, as well as the state investigators, were out hunting in the stretch of Briar woods surrounding the old mill. Looking for any sign of the missing kids and police officers. Brandon knew his uncle would do his best, but it was still likely that men would die tonight.

  Claire's dad dropped them off in front of the cafeteria, asking them to be careful one last time before driving off. Claire looked at him, her eye shining with excitement. She said. "How am I excited and nervous at the same time? I know it's just a stupid school dance, but I've got butterflies in my stomach." The path up to the cafeteria entrance was flanked by carved Jack-O-Lanterns, the flickering candlelight contrasting with the purple Halloween lights draped in the branches of the trees surrounding the cafeteria. Ghosts and skeletons hung from the lower branches, shaking and wailing with hokey canned sound effects.

  Stopping just outside the doors, Brandon took Claire's hand and said. "You look so beautiful. Whatever else might happen to us, we have tonight."

  Claire leaned into Brandon, putting her arm around his waist and resting her head against his chest. She never wanted this feeling to end. The love she felt for this strange boy was so pure and strong. She knew that he loved her just as much as she loved him. Stepping back, she looked up into his handsome face, her single green eye filled with all of those powerful emotions and she said. "You sure know how to sweep a girl off her feet, Brandon Merryweather. Let's get inside. I'm ready to dance with you."

  Brandon flashed her a broad smile and said. "Let's go. Second star to the right and straight on til morning." Hand in hand, they walked into the cafeteria.

  As Brandon and Claire were stepping out onto the dance floor for the first time, Faux and Teague were arriving at the old Kirkman Mill. Teague parked behind Baker's waiting S.U.V. and the two men climbed out. There were two officers already waiting at the mill. They stood next to their car, smoking cigarettes and drinking coffee from a thermos. Baker and his team were standing with Underhill and another old man next to the big silo. Everybody was dressed warmly and armed. It was cold. A hard wind cut through the trees and kicked up dust clouds across the broken concrete.

  Teague and Faux joined the others at the silo and Teague said. "Winston, I'm proud to see you brought your dogs. But are you sure you're up to climbing the mountain in this cold?"

  Winston grinned, showing stained dentures, and said. "Me and my dogs will run you into the ground, Chief. No offense."

  "None taken." Teagu
e said, turning to address the rest of the hunting party. "Gentlemen, we're going to do this nice and easy. Keep your eyes open and your radios on. And if you shoot, make damn sure you're shooting at an animal and not one of us."

  There were a couple of nervous chuckles, but everybody knew that friendly fire was going to be a real risk once they went into those woods. Baker watched the woods with wary eyes, his team gathered close around him as he gave last minute instructions. Faux stood close to Teague and his deputies. Underhill and Winston began walking, letting the dogs get out ahead, and everybody else followed. Faux eased his gun in its holster and tried to ignore his gut feeling that they were walking into a trap.

  Gerrick ghosted through the trees, careful to stay downwind of the dogs as he followed the hunters. The group moved well, despite the fact that they had no idea what they were hunting or what was waiting for them in the forest. The old man in the lead had a steady hand with his dogs, keeping them close but giving them their head when they caught scent, and he was a fine tracker. They moved steadily deeper into the forest, leaving the mill parking lot behind them as the dogs followed one of the dozens of trails blazed through the woods by the grohlm. It didn't take a great tracker to follow the grohlm. The woods were lousy with them. Trails crisscrossing trails, easy enough to find if you knew what you were looking for.

  The old man didn't know exactly what he was hunting, but he wasn't stupid. He focused on the bear tracks, what he saw as the apex predator of these woods. But he also seemed properly wary of the scattered wolf and dog prints, larger than any he'd ever seen before.

  It was cold, even for October, and the woods were preternaturally quiet as Gerrick slipped from tree to tree. He kept the hunters in sight while simultaneously watching for the ambush that was surely lying in wait. He quashed any irritation he had with the police. Despite not knowing what they were going to face, they were out here hunting for the town's missing. It said something to the bravery of those below. But entering the Briar woods at night and in such a fragmented formation was foolish. They were far too spread out.