Charlie Sullivan and the Monster Hunters: Council of the Hunters

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Charlie Sullivan and the Monster Hunters: Council of the Hunters Page 11

by D. C. McGannon


  The five teenagers exchanged glances with each other. This was it, and they knew it. This was the moment that could decide their fate. No matter what they said next, it would fly in the face of Monster Hunter traditions, formalities, policies, and fears. There was no way to escape the truth, regardless of how the council misunderstood what had happened. And this truth would be a difficult hurdle to cross from this point forward.

  “He was bitten by a werewolf,” answered Lisa, matter-of-fact.

  Naifeh’s eyes darkened. Wotan Gregory sat back and rested his hand on the table, while Ashikaga stiffened in his chair and let out a disgruntled huff with an official-sounding tone. Aisling and Elizabeth sat still, praying silently. On the far end of the table, Bartholome leaned in, clearly interested.

  “First you consorted with a monster that had been in service of the varcolac royal for months, and now you tell us that this boy before us is actually a wolf?”

  “He is faoladh,” Lisa answered. “A guardian wolf of Ireland that protects humans from other monsters.”

  Naifeh hissed a breath, drawing a scimitar from a scabbard that hung on her chair. On the other side of Wotan, Elizabeth stood, as did Charlie and Nash. Priest drew his own broadsword.

  “Sit down, Kepi,” Darcy’s mother demanded, a hard edge in her voice. “We are not doing this.”

  “We are monster hunters. This is what we do. And you would stand against me? There has been enough lax judgment in this house.”

  Quinn took his place behind Liev, while Connor guarded Aisling. When Naifeh took a step around the edge of the table, Connor growled, shoulders bunching, teeth flashing and extending to frightful lengths.

  “What evil is this?” yelled Naifeh. She locked eyes with Aisling. “You as well?”

  “The faoladh are a benevolent race,” Aisling said. “Neither of my men, nor Liev, should be considered threats.”

  “That is history book drivel. They were created by a hunter gone mad, and are just as wild and dangerous as their cousin species around the world. Simply, they are monsters.”

  She looked at Liev and raised her sword, the edges of her outer dress rising with her arm, revealing daggers and spines fashioned into her robes. The blades flared behind her. Suddenly, all of the hunters were on their feet, defensive stances assumed, as the gargoyles woke from their motionless state, stone wings spreading to life as they prowled forward.

  Naifeh extended her arm, ready to throw her blade. The hunters gathered around Liev, drawing their own silver daggers when Wotan stood and threw his hands out. With that action, everything, and everyone, froze in place.

  Charlie and his friends could not move. Their eyes scanned the room, bodies suspended in mid-action, and realized Naifeh and the gargoyles had been halted as well.

  “This is a meeting place,” said Wotan. “Here, we can discuss and reason and debate. It is not a place to do battle amongst ourselves.”

  Wotan dropped his hands, and the room fell into motion again, and everyone took care to catch themselves with the sudden jolt of momentum.

  With a terrible scowl across her dark features, the Queen rounded the table and perched once more in her seat, her scimitar clanging onto the table before them. Its gold edge was hard to ignore, a reminder that things were going south quickly.

  Shaken, Liev sat back down, and the others broke from the protective circle they had formed around him. Quinn remained standing behind Liev, just as Connor stood behind Aisling. The sounds of grating stone could be heard as the gargoyles resumed their statuesque positions.

  Wotan coughed. A fake, sophisticated effect. “I must say, you are a lot full of surprises. I personally have already made my decision.”

  “But we haven’t talked about Drakauragh,” stammered Darcy.

  “We’ve heard enough from our newest member, Aisling McCarthy. I was looking forward to you filling in the blanks, but with Liev’s predicament brought to light, I think I can understand the rest. Do any of you have any further questions?” He looked to either side of him, waiting for a response from the other council members.

  Elizabeth looked at Darcy, panic in her face.

  “In that case, I will make my proposition. Charlie Sullivan, Nash Stormstepper, Darcy Witherington, Lisa Vadiknov, and Liev Vadiknov, your actions have been invaluable to this council, the global Monster Hunter society, and to the race of humankind. Whether you realize it or not, you have put a stop to the rise of some old and terribly powerful creatures, who, if they had been allowed to walk this earth again, would have surely destroyed us all by now. That being said, I see in you only a pattern of poor judgment and reckless agreements with monsterkind. While I regret to lose your talent, if it has truly been talent aiding you, I cannot trust you. My fellow council members, I propose that this band of youngsters be excluded and ordered to resume their lives as normally, and quickly, as possible. Furthermore, I propose that we attend to Liev Vadiknov and these two ... men. With haste, of course, and in a humane manner.”

  “No!” cried Lisa.

  “All in favor?” he asked, holding up his hand to signify his official vote. Naifeh raised her hand, sneering at them. After a moment of hesitation, Ashikaga also raised his hand. Charlie’s heart beat slowly—a muted thump-thump, thump-thump in his ears. His head felt dizzy, and he could see the others weren’t feeling much better.

  “I propose instead that they be formally trained, and that we take another look at the faoladh as a helpful race of monster that are not aggressive to humans,” offered Elizabeth, looking at the others, desperation clearly marking her face. “All in favor of this alternative to Wotan’s proposal?”

  She and Aisling raised their hands, as did Bartholome, to their pleasant surprise. The vote was tied.

  “Looks like we’re hung,” Elizabeth said pointedly.

  Wotan smiled, a vicious ripple flashing across his face and body. “I don’t think so, my dear. Does it not bother anyone else that Aisling McCarthy has less experience as a hunter, or a member of this council for that matter, than the five we have gathered to question? She, too, has somehow joined our ranks without a proper initiation.”

  “My grandmum, Maurie McCarthy, the former guardian of Drakauragh, trained me for years and educated me well about our society. Furthermore, since taking over her post, I’ve poured myself into learning everything I can about this council.”

  “Then you know that since you’ve never even been formally initiated, though you have been faithful to watch over Drakauragh, your vote here is null and void.”

  Charlie’s heart pounded into his throat. This couldn’t be happening. What began as a debate about their legitimate recognition as hunters, has now escalated to death sentences and a political hijacking of the council. He was not prepared for this, nor was anyone else.

  “I am aware,” Aisling admitted. “I feel it’s an asinine rule, as Drakauragh has only thrived under my direction since Maurie’s passing.”

  Wotan nodded, victorious. “Then it is a majority vote among us. Today ...”

  “I also think it’s foolish, as I probably know more about the council’s rules and governing policies than the lot of you.”

  Wotan’s smirk slipped at the interruption. He opened his mouth, but she cut him off again.

  “For instance, there is the small matter of how a council member remains a council member, until they retire, are indicted for a crime by the council, or die.”

  Aisling looked directly at Priest when she said it. Realization hit the room like a flood.

  Priest blinked, then raised his hand quickly. “I vote in accordance with Elizabeth’s proposition.” His eye twinkled at Aisling.

  Wotan hesitated, stuttering in frustration. “But you, you are ...”

  “A long-standing member of this council, who has yet to die despite my years. Also, one of the founding builders of Hunter’s Key. If anything, my vote holds more weight than yours, old boy.”

  Wotan Gregory’s jaw dropped. He was speechless.

/>   Elizabeth leaned forward, breathing a sigh of relief. “As our votes are evenly matched, not counting Aisling McCarthy’s vote, would anyone like to recast their vote?”

  She waited for a moment, looking hopefully at Ashikaga. The man’s brow was furrowed, but he sat like a statue.

  “In the event of a tie vote, I motion to adjourn and extend our conversation tomorrow,” said Priest with the authority that came with his age-old privilege and prominence. “Let’s reconvene tomorrow and reconsider these proposals once more for decision. Agreed?”

  “Agreed,” said Elizabeth.

  The other members nodded in agreement, with at least Wotan and Naifeh in shock as to how things had transpired. Ashikaga remained still in deep thought of the proceedings and considerations brought forward.

  “Good.” Priest leaned close to Charlie, whispering, “Meet me in the garden. All of you.”

  The elder hunter stood and exited quickly, his hand firmly on the hilt of his broadsword. Wotan and Naifeh departed together, whispering sharply between each other, and once they were clear of the room, Ashikaga stood and walked out with a stiff and formal gate.

  “Well-played, Aisling,” Elizabeth said, collapsing against her chair. “Masterfully done.”

  “Thank you, ma’am. I was hoping they wouldn’t point out my status, otherwise we could have ended this with four votes against three today. I felt that it would be best to wait until the last moment to reveal Priest, though.”

  “Well, you’ve bought us time. Now we have to finish this. Wotan won’t give up so easy. He’ll use this time to find cracks in our defense.”

  “Then we must use this time wisely,” said Aisling. “Are you feeling all right?” she asked as Elizabeth fell back into her chair again.

  Darcy’s mother waved the girl off. “It’s just a headache. I’ll be better with a meal, and after this blasted meeting is over.”

  Aisling squinted at her elder huntress. Earlier, Quinn whispered a word of warning—he smelled an evil clouding the air around Elizabeth. Aisling had a feeling she knew what it was. “Perhaps I could help?” she offered. “You look like you could use some healing.”

  “I’m fine,” Elizabeth snapped. “Sorry. Just tired and hungry, and grouchy, apparently. You’re a nice girl. I look forward to you being an officially initiated member of the council soon.”

  “Thank you.” Aisling shivered as she watched Darcy’s mother stand and limp out. There was more than simple exhaustion plaguing Elizabeth Witherington.

  Chapter 12

  Their footsteps were thuds in the bleak light of Hunter’s Key’s dungeon, the loud echoes of their voices muted through magic.

  “How did it go?” Donnie asked, leaning smugly against a dank wall.

  “I don’t see why this boy has to be here,” the man grumbled, still descending the stairs.

  The demon, in his well-dressed form, puffed on a thin, sweet-smelling cigar, chuckling. “He’s none of your concern. So? The hunter’s council?”

  Wotan Gregory was a master at saving face. Even standing before a demon, he kept his composure. “It went well. Not as we had planned, but we will emerge as desired.”

  The cold, humid room heated by several degrees in an instant. A low, threatening rumble, like a cat’s warning, seeped through every crack and crevice.

  “Not as we planned ... how?”

  “The vote was even. No decision was made. We shall convene again tomorrow to finalize this matter.”

  “Enlighten me, Wotan. How is it that the vote was even when you disqualified the new girl’s position on the council?”

  “The old man was there. Priest, the guardian of Drakauragh who had disappeared when Hunter’s Key was built. It was a technicality.”

  The dungeon rumbled with displeasure, a physical manifestation of the demon’s grimace.

  “A second meeting tomorrow. This time, they will crumble as you have asked.”

  “Oh, they will,” the demon’s surly warning filled the air around them. “Dub’s hold over Elizabeth Witherington is such that we can bend her mind to our favor.”

  Dub, the diminutive black spirit that Charlie had seen hiding throughout the Key, was the creature responsible for Elizabeth’s hexed affliction. The witchspawn was also the reason that Dräng was living on the fringes, a traitor to the monster world and a foe once more to hunters.

  “And Priest?”

  The demon sneered, his face morphing into something most certainly not human for a split second. “The holy man can wave his crosses at us all he wants. This little group of dabblers will soon be out of our way.”

  Wotan shuddered and nodded with an attempted lack of interest. He loathed these unsavory pacts with devils.

  The garden behind the Key was painted in natural shades of green, brown, and gray. There were sprawling trees, and weathered stone, with the odd splash of mountain flowers vividly dotting the landscape. Stone structures littered the lush and wild garden, labyrinthine pathways, and one peaceful gazebo kept company with a few disinterested gargoyles.

  Priest stood with his back to a stone wall that had partially deteriorated through the years, mashing his finger into a battered smart phone. He glared daggers at Darcy as they approached.

  “Could you have given me a more frustrating piece of your so-called technology? It seems more suited to channeling chaos than communication.” He shook his phone up and down. In response, the phone belted out an energetic and nauseating happy song that was a current top-ten radio hit. Priest simply dropped his arms—barely hanging on to the phone that continued its poppy teenage ode to love and life—while his head tipped back in quiet exasperation.

  Darcy giggled, taking the phone from him. “What are you trying to do with it?”

  “Through some miracle I managed to speak to Fish with it. Then he just ... wasn’t there anymore. I tried calling out to him, but it merely displayed for me over one million images of trout, mackerel, and all manner of finned beast. And now, this drip of a tune your generation calls dance music. This device you insist on me using is close to meeting the edge of my sword.”

  Charlie and his friends couldn’t help but burst into fits of laughter as they understood what had happened. Somehow his call to Fish had been dropped, after which he had initiated an image search through the device’s voice commands.

  “How in the world did you manage to activate voice commands, and still not be able to make a call?” Darcy closed out all the open apps and cleared the home screen so that only the phone icon was visible.

  Priest fumed, “That piece of—”

  “What’s so funny?” Dink asked as he and Fish appeared from the woods. A goofy grin had set on his face in expectation.

  Priest huffed, taking the phone back from Darcy. “Never mind that. We have more pressing matters. We think we might have found Chen.”

  They responded with joyful gasps and whoops.

  “Where is he?” asked Charlie.

  “There’s just the thing,” said Fish. “We found where he was being held, and now he’s been moved.”

  “Elizabeth has asked me to leave you all out of this, but we need help,” Priest said, running rough fingers through his thick, wavy hair. “We had a run-in with the demon. It is not something to consider lightly. Truth be told, I’m worried about your mother, Darcy. Some of her decisions of late trouble me.”

  “It’s the creature that attacked her when we were in Drakauragh,” Charlie said. “I’m almost sure of it. The thing has been sneaking around the Key this entire time and I think it’s what keeping Loch in his coma, as well.”

  Dink stamped his foot. “Then we need to get that little rascal and tie him up.”

  “But first,” said Priest, “we find Chen.”

  “So, where is he?” asked Nash.

  “The lads and I lost track of him at the old saw mill. I want to go back, using your Sight, and your smell.” Priest pointed at Charlie and Liev in turn.

  Liev put his hands up. “I’m a
terrifying creature of the night, not a bloodhound.”

  “Faoladh have sensory magic. You might be able to pick up on something.”

  “Wait a sec. You’re not thinking about taking just them, are you?” Lisa asked, picking up on Priest’s undertones. “Chen is our friend too, you know.”

  “It isn’t that, lass. The less of you that come, the better. If Elizabeth finds out—”

  “She won’t,” interjected Darcy.

  “Darcy, you of all people—”

  “Trust me. She’s tired and stressed. She passes out whenever she gets home each night. I’ll tell her we were at Tavern’s or hanging out at the movies or something. Trying to take our mind off of things. It’ll be fine.”

  Priest paused, looking at all of them and knowing full well that he was losing this argument. “All right. But we’ll need to be quick to avoid suspicion and find Chen before the demon does anything drastic. Beyond getting him out of harm’s way, Chen could also help us in the tomorrow’s meeting. Like me, he was on the council.”

  “Another meeting?” asked Fish. “I thought this was the only one.”

  While Priest filled Fish and Dink in on the events that had just transpired, Charlie and Nash snuck back into the Key to grab some weapons and gear for their search.

  Meanwhile, Liev went to speak with Quinn. He walked into the hallway as Kepi Naifeh opened the door to her room, her scimitar’s scabbard flashing on her hip. The two faoladh were standing outside of Aisling’s door, looking fierce, and Naifeh sneered at all three of them. Liev expected her to hiss as she brushed past, leaving only a heady perfume and anger in her wake.

  “Maybe she forgot her coffee this morning,” Liev told his fellow werewolves.

  Connor laughed out loud. “Something tells me it takes more than coffee to make that woman pleasant.”

  “What do you need, Alpha?” asked Quinn.

  “You can call me Liev, you know. I mean, you guys are probably better suited to be Alphas than I am.”

  Quinn smiled. “We know more about what it means to be faoladh, but it is your heart that we follow. Also, one of us would have to defeat you in battle. But I see a question on your face. What is it?”

 

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