Charlie shot a glance at Bartholome, who only grinned with those black canines. “Come on. Let’s go help the others,” he told Lisa, who ignored him.
That was when the werewolf stood back up. Its head lolled forward, barely held on by the skin of its neck that remained. It growled, angry, while the pointy imp and chimerical monkey-tiger both skittered to life once more, joining the wolf in offensive positions ready to pounce.
Lisa grumbled, “This just got a heck of a lot harder.”
“The dolls,” Charlie said, analyzing them all. “The dolls are the hearts!”
“What?”
“Get to the dolls in the middle to destroy them.”
Lisa offered him a blank stare of confusion.
Words escaped him, so Charlie gave up and used his Sight, sending images of Bartholome’s dolls to Lisa. They were the core of the puppet-like monsters. Destroying the dolls inside would destroy the monsters.
Lisa shuddered—as acclimated to Charlie’s Sight as she was, no one liked having someone else’s thoughts and images shoved into their head.
“Sorry,” said Charlie.
“It’s okay, I get what you mean now. Beats having to go to fourth period,” she joked.
Despite the threats circling them, Lisa grinned at Charlie, and he at her, until they remembered they were still angry at each other.
The imp lurched forward, itching to bite into them. They pushed away, letting it slide through. The tiger-monkey was next, tackling Charlie to the ground. Lisa turned to help, but was knocked aside by the werewolf, into the imp.
Charlie saw it happen, but then the werewolf towered over her, its back to Charlie blocking his view. Two wildcat paws digging into his shoulders brought him back to his own predicament, the tiger-monkey baring yellowed fangs in a hiss. With a feral scream, Charlie jabbed the dagger up and through the creature’s belly, hoping he hit his mark. The chimera yowled but only dug its claws deeper, drawing blood. It snapped its jaws, barely missing as Charlie turned his head. He pushed the dagger up once, twice, felt it catch, and heard the ripping of fabric. He had cut through the doll.
The tiger-monkey snarled, hesitating. Charlie forced the dagger upward and to the side, feeling the fabric tear further inside. The tiger-monkey hacked in his face, drops of rancid spittle causing Charlie to grimace as he pushed the dying creature off of him.
“Lisa!”
But Lisa was standing tall, three deep scratches marking her cheek. The werewolf and the imp were on the ground, nailed down by black spikes that extended from Lisa’s arms. She focused on the spike securing the wolf, searching to find the doll in its abdomen.
“Go help them,” she told Charlie abruptly. “I have this.”
Charlie nodded, hearing the edge in her voice.
Darcy had managed to capture the sword from the birdman, and was now dancing back and forth with it. She had tried decapitating it, it seemed, as it carried its own head now, beak snapping viciously. Meanwhile, the Cyclops continued its offense against Nash and Liev, scorched and with deep lacerations, yet unfazed.
“Aim for their middles,” Charlie yelled, running to Darcy. He grabbed onto a rough-scaled leg of the birdman, avoiding being gouged by the other clawed foot. “Destroy the doll at its center!” he repeated, looking at Darcy.
“What?” she asked, frowning.
“Just do it!”
“Okay, sheez!”
Charlie stabbed the beast in the leg. It screeched, swiping at him with its claws. Charlie let go to avoid the attack, but he had accomplished what he meant to. Distracted, the avian monster had descended low enough for Darcy to stab it through the chest with its own chipped katana.
The monster clawed at the sword in pain, flailing the rest of the way to the ground. They watched as it deteriorated in front of them, flesh falling away in purple-black, spiraled mists to the bone, and then the bone was consumed by the very magic that gave it life. Even the sword, rusting and falling to shards, dissipated slowly, until all that remained was the dried beak and straw doll—a hole in its burlap face.
They heard a deep roar, and turned to see Liev perched on the Cyclops’ chest, his paw buried deep inside. Like the bird creature, the Cyclops began to disintegrate.
Charlie looked to where Lisa sat on the floor, elbow resting on a bent knee. The dolls with a hairy claw and pointed ear were lying on the ground next to her, and the doll with the jaw full of teeth lay where Charlie had pushed the chimerical beast away.
“Are you happy now?” Elizabeth asked Bartholome, sounding anything but pleased. “They could have been seriously hurt.”
“Ah, very true. What better way to test their value to the council, my dear woman?”
She stormed past him. “How about you kids go ahead on home? I’ll speak with your teachers and have them prepare any missed assignments for you to catch up on.”
“But, we’re fine,” said Darcy.
“Speak for yourself,” muttered Liev. His voice was gravelly, and he was taking deep breaths. The inky marks that had appeared on his forearms during the fight slipped back under his sleeves.
Elizabeth crossed her arms. “You’re not fine. Look at yourselves.”
They did. Nash was sporting a nice bruise under his cheek, and Liev looked like a wild animal, literally. Darcy was unscathed, having avoided all physical injury. Charlie’s shirt was torn over both shoulders, slightly bloodied, and Lisa’s face was scratched from the imp’s talons. They were a sight for having only been tested.
Elizabeth added, “We don’t need rumors going around the school.”
“Rumors are going to go around anyway,” Charlie pointed out, looking at the ground. There was a large footprint on the stage, perhaps where the Cyclops had stomped, along with several holes and gashes on the floors and walls. The back wall had a large scorch mark where Nash’s stormstepping had missed its mark. “Let them talk. If this was all a test,” he said, sullen, “then you should know, this wasn’t anything. We can carry on with our day as if it hadn’t happened. It was easy.”
Elizabeth’s eyebrows shot up, and her jaw dropped. She looked nervously at Bartholome as if he would pull out more dolls, but he only began to laugh, slapping his hands together.
“I like this boy, Elizabeth. Okay, okay, I am done. That is all I wanted to see.”
“Damn right you’re done. All right, go back to your classes. Darcy, are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yes, Mother.”
“It’s really nothing,” Nash said, smiling. “We’ve had worse.”
“Clawed,” said Darcy. “Beaten. Paralyzed by horrible sounds.”
Lisa raised her hand. “I got impaled once. That sucked.”
“How about getting poisoned, bitten, and drowned?” chimed Liev.
Darcy’s mother waved them away “Okay, I get it. But go to the nurse’s office first. Get yourselves patched up. Quickly, please. I would like to have a word with Mister Bartholome.”
The hunters gathered their belongings and exited the auditorium. Charlie, for one, would not have had a problem staying. He wanted to give Bartholome a piece of his mind, or at least hear Elizabeth Witherington give hers. At the same time, he didn’t want to be around any of the council members if he didn’t have to.
“Well that was fun,” Liev said, his usual chipper attitude attempting to lift spirits. “We should do this every Friday. I would certainly prefer creepy monster dolls to chemistry, wouldn’t you, Lisa?”
“I can’t believe she let him throw those things at us,” said Darcy, shaking her head. “They weren’t holding any punches.”
Charlie grunted. “I doubt she had a choice.”
“What do you mean?”
They turned the corner. The hallway had a few students left, scurrying to their classes. One girl saw them and gasped. Immediately, her phone appeared in hand, before she disappeared behind a classroom door.
“Great,” muttered Charlie. “I mean that Bartholome is obviously the council member that wa
s supposed to arrive yesterday and, by the looks of it, he’s a very powerful council member. More powerful than your mom.”
Darcy pursed her lips, troubled by Charlie’s words.
“If that was that guy’s gift, I would hate to see what the other council members can do,” said Nash.
“Let’s hope they don’t feel the need to test us, too.”
Other teens were peering out of classroom doorways, phones chattering in their hands. Darcy looked at her own phone.
“Caitlin just texted me. She’s asking if the school is under attack by vampires. And if any of them are hot. Ugh!”
Chapter 11
The council meeting was scheduled for Saturday.
With every school day that week being very not normal, the council meeting had to be rescheduled on a day when the group finally had a chance to kick back and relax. Video games, catching up on the latest series of binge-watching T.V., shopping, the mind-numbing act of scrolling through memes, posts, and feeds, even sleeping in—all of it was a no-go this fate-filled Saturday morning.
The walk to Hunter’s Key was nerve-racking and dead silent. Nobody wanted to admit it, but they were all nervous. One question weighed heavy in their thoughts: By the end of the day, would they still be considered Monster Hunters?
“You guys ready for this?” Darcy asked.
A few minutes later, coming through the East Wing hallway, they found Priest, Fish, and Dink sitting down in the Main Lobby, bruised and battered.
“What happened to you guys?” asked Nash.
“That pal of yours, Donnie,” Fish answered, sour.
“That story can wait,” said Priest. “The council is ready for you. Follow me.”
Dink waved sadly as they walked by. “Besta luck, you guys.”
“Where are they?” Charlie asked.
“In the war room.”
When they entered the room, the secret passage in the Library was open, and the council members were already seated halfway around a large table. The members of the council looked less like a governing body of powerful, influential hunters and more like a group of strangers pulled off the streets of New York City. Elizabeth sat next to Aisling, exhausted and looking as if she should be in bed recovering from a cold.
Behind the Council of the Hunters sat Quinn and Connor, attentively watching everything that moved, breathed, or shifted in the room, as well as Naifeh’s attendant. In the far corners of the room sat four gargoyles, silent and still guardians, witnesses, over what was about to take place.
Wotan Gregory raised a pair of silver-rimmed glasses off of the table, and balanced them on his nose. “Are we ready, then?”
“As ready as we ever shall be, mon ami,” said Bartholome from the opposite side of the table. He flashed his polished, black canines at Wotan.
Naifeh grunted. “No thanks to your late arrival, Bones.” She nearly spit the nickname at Bartholome, somehow managing to still sound polite.
“Nash Stormstepper, Charlie Sullivan, Darcy Witherington, Lisa Vadiknov, Liev Vadiknov,” intoned Wotan. “Today, these five young men and women are being considered for inclusion in the next generation of monster hunters. Depending on how our vote sways today, they will be properly trained in our ways and given the means to fight against the wolves at our door, or they will be removed from the ranks and traditions of the hunters. As well, we are gathered to address concerns that the Ancients are behind the recent events in Hunter’s Grove, and Drakauragh.”
There was an uncomfortable shift on the council’s side of the table. They grew serious, anxious, at the mention of the Ancients.
“Presiding over this discussion, and subsequent decisions, are the current acting members of the Council of the Hunters: myself, Emmanuel Bartholome, Ashikaga Akio, Naifeh Kepi, Elizabeth Witherington, and Aisling McCarthy. Are there any questions before we begin?” He paused for a brief moment before continuing. “No? Then please, sit.”
The five teens sat down, while Priest sat to Charlie’s left, between the council and the teens in question.
“First things first,” continued Wotan. “We have, all of us, heard the story about what you five accomplished, capturing one of our oldest enemies, the Dark Prince. We also know that you helped save the portal village of Drakauragh from three very old and very dangerous witches.”
“According to your accounts, this involved the witch-goddess Hecate,” Bartholome stated. “If that is true, then behind each event, there is a much older and dire battle waging. One you cannot imagine.”
“We are grateful for your handling these matters, but are concerned about the truths behind them,” said Ashikaga.
Wotan waited for his fellow council members to finish. “Right. That being said, we have questions as to those truths. Help us fill in the blanks. Tell us from the beginning what you have experienced. How did you learn the about monsterkind? How did you meet Loch?”
An uncomfortable silence followed as the five in question looked between each other.
“Well?” Naifeh pressed, impatient. Her sulky voice echoed around the room.
“It wasn’t hard to figure out,” said Liev. “Lisa and I always figured it to be something preternatural.”
Naifeh’s eyes locked onto the white twin, boring straight through him. “You are Liev Vadiknov, correct?”
Liev felt his heart quicken. He was not used to this nervous feeling under authority—but then most of the teachers and adults he wiggled out of trouble from didn’t look at him with pure malice. “Yes. Th-that’s me.”
“I cannot wait to hear your part of the story, Liev. You have my curiosity.” Her blue nails clicked against the old wood.
Lisa watched the woman across the table judiciously. Her brother sat back, oddly quiet.
“Why don’t you tell them, Darcy?” Charlie asked, feeling defensive of his friends. He knew Darcy would be able to control the spotlight, at least until he could figure out what the council members were looking for.
Darcy unloaded from the beginning. The very beginning. Starting with the disappearance of her mother, a master stroke of emotional manipulation. She continued, telling them of the events of the past several months in detail. Smothering detail. Charlie was surprised to see that Wotan, Ashikaga, and Bartholome all remained attentive. Elizabeth and Aisling, of course, listened with genuine intent. Only Naifeh showed growing signs of impatience.
“And when you first met Loch,” Wotan interjected, “did he explain to you the history of the Monster Hunters?”
“Yes, of course,” Darcy said.
“What did he explain to you?” pressed Naifeh. “In detail, girl.”
“That a group of men and women built Hunter’s Key a long time ago in order to stop the Dark Prince.”
“Was that all?”
Darcy faltered. “Well ... no. I mean, he ...”
“I see. And what of your training? What styles of combat were you trained in? How long did he spend with you on this before moving on to weapons training? How long after that did he send you into the Otherworld?”
“A ... a couple—”
“It was about a week,” Charlie answered, deciding that bold honesty was the best policy. “We didn’t get much weapons training until after we fought the Dark Prince. Since then, we’ve been learning and training every day together.”
“So Loch sent a group of five children with minimal training to face a Greater, a Royal?” asked Ashikaga, a perplexed scowl forming across his face.
“With all due respect, we are five young men and women. And we did what we were asked to. We stopped the Dark Prince.”
“Men? Women?” chided Kepi.
“Indeed,” said Wotan, a failed attempt at contrived diplomacy. “An admirable chance victory, although it greatly concerns me that one of our oldest members made such a poor decision. I have to wonder if it was the two centuries of being trapped alone that allowed the Dark Prince and his horde to be defeated.”
“It was Loch’s only choice at the t
ime,” Elizabeth said, coming to their defense. “He told me later that the deterioration of the Key’s wards securing the portal sped up within weeks, causing the anomaly that would not allow him through. I believe he called for your help, but received no response.”
Wotan nodded, barely acknowledging her. “Yes, I received his message a week later. No doubt, luck was on your side my young friends. What fortune! Please, continue.”
The room felt heavier. He had—repeatedly, elegantly—insulted not only them, but Loch. Don’t fall for it, guys, Charlie thought, watching the twins and Nash, especially, bristle under the elder’s spiteful tone.
Darcy skipped ahead to their first time in the Otherworld, their face-off with the Sagemistress and her coven, and how Fish, Dink, and Dräng joined them moments before their war with the monsters began.
“Two non-hunters and a monster were allowed to join you?”
“Yes.”
“I see. And then?”
“We fought. There really isn’t another way to describe it. We fought for our lives that day. All the way into Blood Castle, and all the way back out.”
Naifeh sighed. “Touching, really. When I first heard the Dark Prince had finally been captured, it was a great surprise to hear that it was all thanks to five children. I also heard that one of you had died.”
The group remained silent for a moment.
“We were wrong,” began Elizabeth. “Liev—”
“Please, Elizabeth. Let the children speak for themselves.”
“He didn’t die,” said Lisa through strained breath. “My brother sacrificed himself for us. At the time, I thought he had died, but he had been trapped by the surviving monsters surrounding Blood Castle.”
Naifeh’s eyes narrowed. “How?”
Charlie Sullivan and the Monster Hunters: Council of the Hunters Page 10
