Starlight (The Dark Elf War Book 1)

by William Stacey

  Trailing his fingers over his long, drooping mustache, he sighed. The rear door of the A&W slammed open. Chris, hugely obese and suffering from a nightmare case of acne, stuck his head out, quickly looking in both directions. When he saw Duncan, he grinned then glanced over his shoulder, no doubt making sure no one was watching.

  Duncan snorted. Like anyone gives a shit.

  When he was sure the coast was clear, Chris ambled over to Duncan, pulling crumpled twenties from his jeans pocket. “We cool, man?”

  Duncan nodded. “We cool.”

  Chris thrust the money at Duncan, his eyes darting all around them as if he expected a major drug bust. Duncan forced himself not to roll his eyes as he took the money, counted it, and then pulled out a small plastic baggy containing more crumpled money and a half dozen small pills. He pulled four pills out and handed them to Chris. Chris’s large fingers were sweaty as he grasped at them, hid them in his shirt pocket, and immediately spun about and headed for the door.

  Duncan took another drag and exhaled. “Have fun tonight.” The door slammed shut behind Chris. “I know I will.”

  * * *

  As Cassie and her friends approached the campsite, they heard music blaring. A score of their friends were already there, sitting at the wooden picnic table, drinking beer. A couple of guys were on their knees in front of the stone-ringed fire pit, blowing into the fire, and the aroma of wood smoke cut through the air. Several brightly colored tents were set up around the site for those planning on spending the night. White spruce, aspen, and poplar trees surrounded the campsite, intermingled with wild sarsaparilla and rose bushes. A stone’s throw away, Cassie could see the still, smooth surface of Moberly Lake through the trees.

  Cassie picked up the pace and rushed forward to greet her friends. Ginny handed her a wine spritzer, and she popped it open as she chatted with her friends, telling them about Vancouver and UBC.

  Squirrels darted about the roots of the trees and bushes, surprising her with their boldness. A loon cried out once again, its distinctive call echoing across the lake. Cassie sat on the edge of the picnic table and sighed contentedly. Being back home isn’t all bad.

  She jumped when something touched her leg. Looking down, she saw a small, adorable pug, obviously a puppy, rubbing itself against her. Squatting down beside it, she began to rub its neck and belly and make cooing noises. The excited pug peed on her hand.

  “Sorry, sorry,” said a young red-haired man with glasses as he ran up to pull the puppy away.

  “It’s okay.” Cassie stood back up, shaking her hand then rubbing it against her jeans. “Nice to see you again, Everett. Who’s that?”

  “This,” he said, now holding the pug in his arms, “is Caspar. And he doesn’t normally go around peeing on pretty girls. He’s been acting all screwy for hours. Something has him all worked up.”

  “Maybe it’s all the squirrels,” said Cassie.

  “Maybe,” he said as he walked away, still holding the delinquent Caspar in his arms.

  As the sun began to go down, more of their friends arrived, and soon a large group had gathered, laughing and horsing around. She didn’t know why, but she felt uneasy. She knew she totally shouldn’t; she was surrounded by friends. Not far away, Ginny was telling everyone about the moose, exaggerating how close it had been—although, to be fair, it had been pretty close. Someone passed around a joint, but Cassie shook her head when it was offered to her. A song she liked was playing on the stereo, and she rocked in time to it, feeling no need to get drunk or stoned.

  Out of the corner of her eye, she caught Lee watching her. He looked away. She saw with some irritation that he was talking to that redheaded skank, Vicky Dodds. True to form, Vicky was standing way too close to Lee. There had always been an underlying tension between them, caused by Vicky’s all-too-obvious crush on Lee. It was clear she was still hot for him. She kept finding excuses to touch his arm and tittered at everything he said. Vicky would no doubt be more than happy to pull her skirt up right there and ball the shit out of Lee. What a troll.

  At that moment, Vicky locked glances with Cassie and smiled, her lips parting as she moved in even closer and placed her hand on Lee’s chest, once again giggling at something he had said.

  “You wanna break a beer bottle against her head?” Ginny plopped down on the picnic table next to Cassie.

  Cassie snorted, smiling. “It’s a thought.”

  “You know,” said Ginny, pausing for a moment as she looked from Lee to Vicky. “He’s not into her. He’s still hung up on you. There’s still smoke there.”

  “Whatever smoke was there is gone now. And he’s going away. He deserves to escape from this place.”

  “You know, not everyone feels that way about Hudson’s Hope. Some of us love it here.”

  Cassie reached an arm around Ginny’s shoulders and pulled her in close. “Sorry, girlfriend. I didn’t mean anything. I’m just bummed about Vancouver.”

  “Shit happens. But it’s not the end of the world. You can still get away if you want.”

  “I don’t know. It’s all so hard now. Since…” Cassie’s voice trailed off, and this time it was Ginny who hugged her, giving her a big kiss on the cheek.

  “I know, baby, I know. They love you, wherever they are now. They still love you, and they’re watching over you, especially your mom.”

  Cassie had to look away before she lost all control. When she felt she could speak again, she said, “What do I do now?”

  “Go to another college. Hell, go to Northern Lights. Get a degree and move on. You know you want to.”

  Cassie sighed and shook her head. “It wasn’t just the fight. I was failing all my courses as well.” Cassie stared at the bottle she was holding between her knees. “Turns out I can’t really do anything right.”

  Ginny’s eyes narrowed, and she watched Cassie’s face for several moments before speaking again. “Honey, how hard were you really trying? You were getting all A’s before your parents—”

  “That’s not it! University is harder—too hard.”

  “I don’t want to fight with you. I love you. But someday soon you’re going to have to start coping with what happened and stop blaming yourself. If you don’t—”

  “I have to go to the bathroom.” Cassie jumped up and stormed away.

  Ginny was trying to help, and she really did mean well, but she was wrong. She was so wrong. Cassie wiped her eyes with the back of her hand as she made her way to the park washroom, a log cabin.

  Cassie had killed her parents. Everybody knew that, even if they didn’t come out and say it. She could see the judgment in their eyes, condemning her.

  Okay, maybe she had partied way too much in Vancouver, and maybe she had missed a lot of her classes out of sheer lethargy. But what was the point in even trying if she was just going to fail anyway—the way she had failed her parents?

  Overhead, dark clouds gathered in the dwindling light. A storm was brewing. There wasn’t supposed to be a storm.

  * * *

  As the night progressed, the dark clouds continued to gather over Moberly Lake, roiling and churning. On occasion, spectacular bolts of red lightning lit up the sky, and thunder boomed in the distance. But there was no rain.

  Despite the cold—and the threat of lightning—Cassie and most of the others put on their bathing suits and ran screaming into the ice-cold waters of Moberly Lake, laughing and splashing one another. Hundreds of years ago, Deane-za tribesmen had believed this lake to be bottomless and home to an ancient creature that would occasionally come to the surface. For countless generations, locals believed the lake held sea monsters—Fort St. John’s very own Loch Ness. Every now and then, someone would claim to have seen one of the creatures.

  Cassie had put her earlier somber thoughts behind her and now tried to enjoy herself. Ginny and her new boyfriend, Darryl, were splashing in the water nearby with Ginny sitting on his shoulders. Lee, standing only about ten feet away, met Cassie’s eye and raise
d an eyebrow as if to ask her if she wanted to meet their challenge. Cassie was about to oblige him when Vicky splashed through the water behind Lee and jumped onto his shoulders. Just for a moment, Cassie saw annoyance flit across Lee’s face, but he turned and pushed through the water toward Ginny and Darryl. A battle ensued as Ginny and Vicky tried to pull each other off. Cassie smirked when Vicky fell backward into the water.

  Afterwards, they left the beach, wrapped towels around themselves, and jostled for position around the blazing campfire. Goose bumps pricked Cassie’s skin, and she rubbed her upper arms, wondering again what had possessed her to go swimming in May.

  “Would you look at that,” Darryl said, pointing into the sky.

  The northern lights were ablaze that evening, more powerful and vibrant than Cassie had ever seen them. They shimmered and shifted in the most spectacular curtains of green, red, and purple.

  “I have never, not ever, seen them that clearly before,” Darryl said.

  Cassie had to agree. Growing up in the North, they had all grown accustomed to seeing the northern lights, but tonight was something special indeed. Caspar began barking—short little high-pitched bursts—as he ran in circles in front of the picnic table. At first, everyone laughed at his antics, but then Caspar paused, looked once at his master, and darted off into the trees as if he were being chased. Everett yelled at the dog to come back and stood up to chase after him.

  And then, as if by magic, a hush descended over everyone. Standing not twenty feet away was a grizzly bear. Vicky stood frozen between the bear and the others. She moaned in terror, swaying in place, her hands opening and closing. Someone turned off the radio. Everyone else seemed to lump closer together. Cassie’s heart pounded against her chest. Like moose, bears usually didn’t come this close to people. Lightning flashed, illuminating the world in a brilliant shade of red.

  Someone warned everyone to be still.

  No shit.

  As if energized by the lightning, the bear began moving, approaching them on all fours and then stopping again about ten feet from Vicky.

  “Don’t move, Vicky,” Lee said softly.

  Out of the corner of her eye, Cassie saw Lee sliding up beside her. The bear must have also seen him because it suddenly raised its snout, exposing its teeth, and growled in warning. Lee froze.

  The bear rose up on its hind legs, towering over Vicky. It stood over ten feet tall, easily a thousand pounds of raw power. Its reddish-blond fur was silver tipped at the ends and matted with twigs and dirt. The prominent hump over its shoulders clearly identified it as a grizzly and not its cousin, the smaller brown bear. Its face was shaped like a dish, its head enormous. The long curved claws on the ends of its massive paws could tear bark from trees—or skin from bones. Given the time of year, this bear must have just woken up from hibernation.

  It would be hungry.

  “Vicky, stand taller,” said Lee. “Raise your hands over your head.”

  Vicky whimpered but tentatively did as Lee said.

  No. That’s wrong. Cassie knew that doing that, trying to make herself appear larger, would only piss off a grizzly. These monsters weren’t intimidated that easily. Lee, meaning well, was going to get Vicky killed. Cassie took a step forward. “Vicky, listen carefully. Don’t do that.”

  Lee said, “But—”

  “Lee, baby, shut it,” said Cassie without taking her eyes off Vicky and the bear. “Vicky, get down—very, very slowly—and curl up into a ball.”

  Vicky trembled, like a leaf. “Somebody help me, please. I’m so scared.”

  “Vicky, honey, just get down and close your eyes,” said Cassie. “I promise you everything will be fine.” She was lying, and she knew it. Everything was not going to be fine. She exhaled and took another step closer. “Whatever you do, don’t look into its eyes, it’ll think you’re challenging it. In fact, everyone, that goes for you all. Look down at the ground. Do it now!”

  Red lightning flashed once again, and when the thunder boomed, Cassie almost jumped out of her skin. The grizzly dropped back onto all fours.

  “Vicky,” Cassie said, keeping her voice low but willing steel into it. “Get down right goddamned now!”

  For a moment, Cassie was afraid Vicky was too terrified to move, but then, oh so slowly, the other girl dropped down onto her hands and knees and curled up into a sobbing ball. The grizzly stared at her then puffed out an exhalation of cold vapor before stepping closer. It was now right beside her. It sniffed at the girl’s red hair, and Vicky whimpered in terror, her eyes tightly shut.

  “Vicky, honey,” said Cassie softly. “Everything will be all right, I promise.” She risked a quick glance behind her, at the others. “Does anybody have bear spray?”

  “I do,” Everett said, his voice breaking. “But it’s in the tent, in my backpack.”

  “Which tent?” asked Cassie.

  “The red one.”

  The grizzly continued to sniff at Vicky’s hair, occasionally looking up at the young people near the fire, who still averted their gaze.

  “Go away,” whispered Cassie. “There’s nothing to be frightened of here—just go away.”

  It might go away, she knew. Sometimes, if they didn’t feel threatened, bears would just sniff about for a bit and then move off to forage elsewhere. Maybe, just maybe, the animal was only curious. When the grizzly licked Vicky’s hair and face, Cassie knew it wasn’t going away, wasn’t curious. It was going to eat her.

  Bizarrely, knowing the worst was about to happen was liberating. Cassie surprised herself when she stepped forward and walked past both Vicky and the grizzly, coming within feet of them. She kept walking, aware now that the grizzly had stopped licking Vicky’s face and was watching her instead. It growled, but she just kept going toward Everett’s tent. At any moment, she expected the bear to rush her, knock her down, and bite into the back of her neck.

  At the tent’s entrance, she bent down and crawled into its open interior, her back exposed. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears like a drum as she grabbed at Everett’s backpack and started patting it down, feeling for the container of bear spray. If it were hidden away at the very bottom, underneath his underwear and socks, she was probably going to die before she ever found it. But it wasn’t. It was in one of the side pockets.

  She yanked the pocket open and pulled the can free. Backing up on all fours, she came back out of the tent and turned toward the animal. The grizzly was still watching her, its head swinging back and forth, saliva dripping from its muzzle.

  Cassie stood up and fumbled for the release tab. The container was about the size of a water bottle, all black with a bright-yellow sticker wrapped around it. She didn’t need to read the instructions. She had carried a can of bear spray every summer that she had worked for the forestry service. Still keeping her gaze averted, she yanked the safety tab free and shook the can vigorously. Not liking the sudden movement, the bear growled and stepped away from Vicky, now approaching Cassie. Its ears sloped back dangerously. The hair rose on its back and neck, standing up like needles.

  It was going to charge.

  “Cassie,” Lee called out, stepping closer.

  “Don’t move,” said Cassie.

  Lightning flashed, but now it was like nothing she had ever seen before, coming so fast it resembled a strobe light, again and again and again, turning the world red.

  The grizzly glanced back at Lee, pawed the ground once, and then charged.

  One chance. All she was going to get was one chance. She sprayed the air in front of and above the charging bear, but it was so close already she didn’t know whether the pepper spray would even have time to register in the creature’s senses before it reached her. The bear ran right through the spray without slowing. It had been too close after all.

  And then something flowed into her—filling her instantly with the most amazing feeling. Almost indescribable, the energy that rushed through her was like nothing she had ever experienced before yet somehow completely nat
ural at the same time, as though it should have always been a part of her. She was aware of an odd metallic taste in the back of her throat.

  Time slowed down, becoming a series of snapshots.

  The bear charged, almost upon her, its eyes feral, primal, and unstoppable.

  Lee, poor stupid Lee, was running after it as though he was going to tackle it.

  The others all stood frozen around the blazing bonfire, the flames two feet high.

  No! She raised her hands toward the bear, and the flames from the bonfire roared up as though a gasoline bomb had just gone off within its coals. The others fell away as the flames jetted out, twisting and turning, wrapping around the grizzly.

  The ground in front of her exploded, and she flew back through the air, unable to breathe. Her world was all white light as though she was staring at the sun. And then it went dark.

  * * *

  Both Elizabeth and the librarian had run to the window as the lightning struck in the wilderness, turning the sky red again and again in a nonstop display of God’s majesty. Her mouth open, Elizabeth turned in wonder to the woman beside her—and then something flowed into her, something wonderful, filling her with a brilliant glow.

  Oh, God—it’s the Rapture! Elizabeth dropped.

  * * *

  Duncan yanked the fries from the pressure cooker, the oil splattering on his hand. “Jesus, crap, shit, fuck!” He danced about, rubbing his hand.

  Chris, the fat bastard, was laughing at him, his face all shiny with sweat.

  Duncan gave him a dirty look. “It isn’t—”

  At that moment, Duncan felt the greatest high he’d ever had in his short life. It was so amazing—it felt as though he was sent to a world that he had never known could even exist, a world of lights and colors all popping in his head like carbonated soda.