Charlie Sullivan and the Monster Hunters: Council of the Hunters

by D. C. McGannon

  “Ashikaga. Safe travels, I trust?”

  “I am here, am I not?”

  Charlie and his friends watched, and felt more than they saw. Between these three adult hunters alone, they could feel a swelling of power and ego, contradicting gusts of wind threatening to cloud the forecast.

  “Darcy,” Mrs. Witherington said, “maybe you all should go check in on Loch?”

  Darcy nodded, for the second time in this mansion she found herself at a loss for words, and politely excused the group from the room.

  “That went well,” said Liev as they ascended the stairs in the Main Lobby.

  “That was horrible,” said Darcy.

  Nash shrugged. “It could have been worse.”

  Wotan could have asked why we were here last night, thought Charlie. “It could have,” he agreed.

  He stopped at the top of the stairs, tempted to go to the towers instead of to Loch’s room. It would be easier now, when there were only three adults in the Key, but it would also be spontaneous. Risky, at best.

  Muted steps echoed through the hall and into a cold room, and Charlie once more found himself standing over his stricken mentor. It was difficult to bear. He couldn’t stand not doing anything more than guarding, praying, and hoping for the best.

  A mental image—the Tower, the Dark Prince’s diary. They needed that book.

  “Keep a lookout,” Charlie told Nash.

  Nash looked over his shoulder, then at the others. “Did I miss a secret meeting?”

  “Just tell me if anybody gets close. Meet me in the Library in half an hour.” Charlie left the room, took a peek over the balcony edge into the Main Lobby to be sure the three adults were still cooped up in the parlor.

  “Are you sure you want to do this?” asked Lisa. “I mean, this could spell certain doom for us if any of the council members find out.”

  “Not doing this could be certain doom for everyone, council or no council. I know the risks, but we need Loch, and we need that book.”

  Charlie turned and marched toward the attic.

  Loch had once called it the crossroads of Hunters Key. The Main Attic was filled less with old boxes and forgotten items, and more with seemingly random support beams jutting from all angles. The giant stained glass window behind Charlie cast a mix of colors over the beams, leaving a dusty web of shadows to cover the attic.

  He heard footsteps creak behind him, and Charlie turned, his heart thumping. It was the twins.

  “Paranoid much?” asked Liev. “You looked like a couple of wolves were sneaking up behind you.” He winked, with a dark grin.

  “What are you two doing?”

  “Well, she followed you. I followed her.”

  Lisa shrugged at Charlie and gave him a pretty blink with all the innocence she could devise. His brain became fuzzy and he melted from the ears down.

  There was no time to argue, Charlie knew. He sighed and walked across the attic to where the three immense staircases spiraled upward through the rafters. Three shadowy paths beckoned to them with a forbidden sense of adventure, while the Key itself, they could feel, was warning them not to venture any closer.

  “This doesn’t feel right,” said Lisa.

  Charlie nodded. “Let’s just get it over with.” He took a step and, as the ball of his foot touched down on a step, the attic echoed with a creak. Realizing this would not be a simple matter of walking up the stairs, Charlie let the Sight take his eyes.

  Behind him, the twins shared a glance. Liev was not unaware of his sister’s attraction to Charlie. For the most part, he approved. Charlie would always do what he thought was right.

  He also knew, first hand, of the cost that came with Charlie’s will. He leaned closer to Lisa.

  “That was good back there, sis. The whole batting of the eyes thing ... you know how to get to a guy, especially if his name’s Charlie.” He chuckled, then let his brow wrinkle with concern. “Sure you’re up for this?”

  “Shut it, wolfy.”

  Determination set in her jaw. He knew that look. Once it was there, Lisa wasn’t someone who could be convinced otherwise. He nodded in resignation, putting his faoladh senses on full alert.

  The twins followed Charlie up the stairs. Up, up, up into the dark. The warm glow of the Main Attic and its stained glass comforts faded with every step.

  Nash sat with his elbows on his knees, watching Darcy pace ruts in the floor of Loch’s room.

  “I’m worried about how he’s been lately,” she said to him. Or maybe she said it to the wall, as she was gesturing randomly around the room. Nash really wasn’t sure.

  “He’s got a lot on his mind,” Nash said with a shrug. “You know Charlie. He’s ... deep.”

  The Key groaned, a faint rumbling vibrating through the walls.

  “What was that?”

  Darcy began to answer, but Nash held up a finger as, all of a sudden, everything became still. Too still. If someone dropped a pin in the kitchen, he was sure they would hear it.

  It was an angry shudder, like the effects of a giant branch ripping away from an age-old tree. The Key was giving some sort of warning. It felt angry.

  “Is that Charlie?” asked Darcy.

  “I dunno. But whatever the cause, I’m sure your mom and the council members heard it too.” He stood and walked through the hallway, leaning over the balcony. Sure enough, Mrs. Witherington was in the Main Lobby, looking around the walls as if she could see through them to the source of the problem. She might have been able to, if she had an oculi with her.

  She saw Nash and started up the stairs. “Did you hear it?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Be ready for anything. Are the others still with Loch?”

  Darcy rushed into the hallway and joined them.

  “Um, they—”

  A loud knock at the front door grabbed their attention, and Hunter’s Key shuddered once more. Elizabeth crept down the stairs. “Be ready,” she repeated.

  While they were not heavily equipped by any means, the hunters had grown accustomed to danger. Following her mother, Darcy pulled her silver dagger from an ankle sheath, and Nash was charged and ready. At the door, Elizabeth glanced at them over her shoulder, then held up a hand as she looked through the peephole. She dropped her hand and straightened her shoulders, taking a deep breath.

  “Mom? What is it?”

  “Another council member.” The way she said it almost sounded like a creature from the Otherworld would have been more welcome. She pulled the door open, slowly.

  A tall woman stood across the threshold, accompanied by an even larger man hoisting two luggage bags. Her clothes were rich, and eccentric. Her strong features and coffee-colored skin were accompanied by the air of power and authority. Royalty, even.

  “Elizabeth,” said the woman with a curt smile.

  “Kepi.”

  “You look ghastly, dear. Are you well?” The woman strode through without waiting for an invitation, long legs causing her peacock-blue dress to shimmer. Her eyes skimmed over the interior of the Key and the young hunters without interest. “A council meeting, for these little ones?” she asked, her voice husky and exotic. “It’s been a long time since we’ve sat around a table together.”

  Elizabeth chuckled, closing the door after the manservant brought himself and his heavy load inside. “Not long enough.”

  Kepi smiled, sweetly sour. “The feeling is mutual.”

  “Kepi, darling!” Mr. Gregory emerged from the parlor with his arms wide. “Stunning as ever.” Crossing the distance between them, he took her hand and kissed the back of it, avoiding the multitude of sapphire and silver rings.

  “Wotan. Still a charming bastard, I see.”

  “Till the day I die.”

  “Ashikaga is here as well,” said Elizabeth. “Let me show you to your rooms and we can all meet in the parlor when you are ready to come down. I think the others will be here by tomorrow, and we can begin.”

  Nash and Darcy stepped aside
, suddenly background characters in the midst of these powerful men and women. Despite the fear that they were soon to be judged by individuals that could have passed for Otherworld royals, their immediate crisis had been averted. Hopefully Mrs. Witherington would be too busy attending to the needs of her guests to worry about the groaning of the Key.

  “I wonder if the others are okay,” Darcy whispered as they watched the newcomer and her manservant follow her mother up the stairs.

  Nash scowled. “She acts like she’s too good for the Key.”

  “Well, then she can leave,” Darcy said in a huffed whisper, hands on her hips.

  “Was there something you wanted to share?” Kepi asked from the top of the stairs, sensing that she was the topic of conversation. She looked down at them with piercing eyes, full of condemnation.

  “Just wondering if your man-brute ever got tired of carrying all your stuff.”

  Darcy elbowed Nash in the gut. “What he means is ... do you need any help carrying anything?”

  Kepi strained her gaze upon them, looking as if she might swoop down on them like some glamorous monster peacock. “No. But thank you for your considerate thoughts. My ... attendant ... can manage just fine.”

  Darcy squinted at Nash, but he only returned a grin. He loved the way her features scrunched when she was angry with him.

  Chapter 7

  The others were feeling nauseous.

  Charlie explained to Lisa and Liev what he was seeing. Rivulets of magic, streaming through the staircase. It warped their senses, particularly their sense of direction and balance. The Tower itself seemed to be growing and shrinking, and it swayed like a ship at sea. Charlie could see through the magic easily enough to keep moving forward, pulling the twins along behind him, but his body felt the effects, nonetheless. He could only wonder what the climb would have been like if Hunter’s Key considered them enemies.

  Charlie stopped when a door seemed to appear out of nowhere in front of him. Behind him, Liev leaned against a wall. “What are you stopping for?”

  “Sorry,” Charlie said, dizzy. “Are you ready?”

  “Ready for what?”

  “Charlie, we aren’t there yet. What are you talking about?”

  He looked back, ready to argue with them, when he remembered his Sight. For them, the door probably wasn’t there at all. He pushed the door open with a shove.

  Sharp daylight streamed onto the stairs, and they were assaulted by cold and heavy winds. Charlie gasped in shock, and the twins crouched down, clinging to the stairs.

  Slowly they crept onto a landing that led to ...

  “More stairs,” groaned Liev. “Charlie, tell me this is all an illusion and we’re already there, like you were saying.”

  “We’re not. This next part might get dangerous. If you guys want to go back down, I can—”

  “Shut it,” Lisa said. “Just keep going.”

  “I’m going to get you a shirt that says, ‘Shut it!’ so you can just point to that from now on,” Liev joked.

  Lisa pointed to her lips, eyes wide. “You know what to do!”

  Charlie sighed and edged onto the landing, legs trembling. “Doesn’t this remind you guys of when Loch took us up the tower that first day at the Key? Good times.”

  “Dude!” Liev complained from below. “I’m starting to think that your idea of a fun time sucks.”

  Luckily, the feeling of being off balance had subsided. Not entirely, but enough for them not to get dizzy and fall to their deaths below. Charlie almost wondered if that was the Key, too. Muting its power so that they wouldn’t die.

  “If we are meant to find this book,” Lisa began, “why isn’t it getting any easier to find?”

  Charlie leaned against the wall for a moment, catching his breath. “Maybe because Loch never invited us up here before he went into a coma. Does it matter? We’re here, aren’t we?”

  “Are you sure?” called Liev. “Because last time you said we were here, we weren’t.”

  “No, I mean, we’re already this far. Not here here, but we’re here ... together.”

  They came to another door.

  “Here?” asked Lisa.

  “Like, here here? Or just here?” quipped Liev.

  Charlie and Lisa both leveled a scowl at him.

  Is this it? Charlie wondered to himself. He pushed with one hand. Then, steadying himself, he pushed with two.

  “It’s locked,” he said, giving it a good look. “With magic.”

  “Move,” said Liev.

  They maneuvered around each other and Liev put both hands on the old wood and pushed with all of his might. He pushed again, with all of the might that wasn’t his—the inhuman part. The door creaked, and they heard it give way slightly, but it didn’t budge beyond that.

  Lisa growled under her breath. “This was productive.”

  “Hang on,” said Liev, more to himself than to his sister. There was a memory of a feeling he had experienced in Drakauragh—a suspicion, an idea. He looked at his hands and focused. He kept his hand flat against the surface, but instead of pushing, he thought of pulling. At first, he didn’t feel it. But then, there it was—a resistance in the middle of his palms.

  “Liev.” Lisa sounded worried. “Liev, your mark is growing.”

  Charlie saw it, too, but he motioned for her to wait. He could also see some of the magic being pulled through the wood. It wasn’t so much a pull, as much as it was a tearing. Like a wolf might tear apart its food, he thought.

  The feeling grew in Liev’s palms, exciting him in a primal way as he felt the magic being ripped from the trap door. It was him. He was doing this. This was a new sensation that pulsed with an unknown power inside of him. With the last of the protective magic torn away, the wooden door cracked, leaning in on itself.

  The rush of power was intoxicating.

  Charlie laid a hand on his friend’s shoulder, gently, and Liev’s head snapped over his shoulder to glare at him. His eyes were silver-blue, distant, irritated at being interrupted.

  “You did it. It’s done. It’s all right.”

  His eyes faded to human. Liev shook his head sleepily and looked down to where his inky mark had twisted itself halfway up his forearms. His face flushed pale, and his lips were stretched tight.

  Charlie patted him on the shoulder. “Come on. Let’s see what the Key was guarding so heavily.”

  They pushed the trap door the rest of the way open together. As soon as their feet hit the floor, the Key groaned again, this time shaking them to their bones. Charlie grabbed Lisa’s hand as she slipped on the stones leading into the room, pulling her up as the Tower seemed to twist and turn with the rumbling. They plastered themselves to the ground, silently praying the Tower would not collapse with them in it.

  It didn’t. The quake—whatever it was—stopped.

  “I don’t think we’re supposed to be here,” whispered Lisa.

  Charlie crouched for a moment, bracing for it to start again, before standing fully. “But here we are. So let’s find that book and get out.”

  Even as a child, Charlie had been fascinated by the three towers. They stood over Hunter’s Grove like three watchers, for good or for bad, depending on the story you were listening to at the time. Now, after years of daydreaming, he finally got to see what was in that middle room above the clouds. And while it was different than what he had imagined hundreds of times before, he was not disappointed. The room was filled with Monster Hunter relics, treasures that were undoubtedly from the Otherworld, and all manner of strange and occult curiosities. It was like walking into one of those curiosity shops he only knew from the internet. Charlie had always wished he could visit one, but the closest one was too far away, and yet, here was this room, at the top of the Key, only moments from his house. His heart flip-flopped at the thought of spending time here in the future.

  “What are we looking for again?” asked Liev, unceremoniously turning over old texts and artifacts alike while his sister carefully
shifted delicate objects here and there. Liev came across a small metal dragon, very much like an adult version of the Exsecrifer that bit him so many months ago, cursing him to die a thrice death. “I’m not touching that,” he stated.

  “Yeah, what does this book look like?” Lisa asked, crossing her arms. She leaned over a table with a glass case on it, rearing back when tiny green vines with mouths lashed against the glass. The plaque next to it read Medusa Vine.

  “It’s ...” Charlie couldn’t think of how to break the news that he was looking for the very thing that had thrown them into this crazy world to begin with. It was part of the reason he wanted to come alone in the first place. “You’ll know it when you see it.”

  Lisa picked up a furry trinket and threw it across the room when it started to move. It hit the wall and bounced off, landing under an unlit lamp. “And what exactly is this book supposed to do for Loch?” She sounded irritated and out of breath.

  “It might have a clue about what type of magic is keeping Loch in his state, and how to undo it.”

  “Might?” asked Lisa, cocking an eyebrow.

  The tower room was a good size, filled with over-stuffed shelves, crowded tables, and hanging hooks. Every surface, nook, and cranny had been jammed full with interesting things, bizarre things, and some things that defied explanation. Crystals, daggers, a mirror whose reflection was warped and alive. An iron ball that ticked with unseen clockwork, what looked like floating heads in jars—was that a dinosaur’s head?—and an ebony bust of some old man whose mouth had been carved wide open to hold a red gem. The bust’s eyes shifted around the room restlessly, causing Charlie to shudder and quickly look away. The room felt alive, and dangerous.

  Lisa pointed sharply. “Look! Is that ... ?”

  Against a large stone was propped a long box, and next to it an old, menacing book. Reverently, Charlie walked over to the two items—the box he knew well. He had kept it in his pocket while fighting against a harpy, a coven of witches, and hordes of monsters. He’d held it up to the Dark Prince after subduing the monstrous royal in his own throne room. He’d given it to Loch, feeling the weight of such a responsibility passed on to the elder hunter, and had tried to dismiss it from his thoughts ever since. He allowed his fingers to brush lengthwise across the mirror box.