The October Trilogy Complete Box Set

by Heather Killough-Walden

  Sam rushed toward Logan, ignoring the dagger.

  “I’m sorry, Dominic!” Logan cried as Sam reached her in a blur of vampire-laced speed and she lashed out with the weapon in her hand.

  Shock rang through Sam. He came to a skidding halt and faltered. It took him a moment to realize that she’d actually hit him. Blood welled up like a fountain, drenching his black clothing and gluing it to his skin. She’d sliced cleanly into him, swiping the dagger across his midsection to dig in deep.

  If he’d been human, the wound would probably have killed him. As it was, he was having difficulty coping with the idea that she’d been so desperate to escape him, she’d been willing to sacrifice Maldovan’s body to do it. It gave him pause.

  Which he had no time for.

  He would heal. As long as he made it through the portal and away from Logan’s crazy friends and insane history teacher, he could heal anything.

  All hint of patience officially gone, Sam grabbed her weapon arm by the wrist and twisted. Logan cried out as her arm was sprained and the dagger dropped heavily to the ground. From across the clearing came the sound of a car engine shifting gears.

  Logan struggled in Sam’s grasp. He reached back with his free arm and backhanded her with brute strength.

  Now unconscious, Logan’s body dropped limply into his arms. He adjusted his hold on her, scooped her up tightly against his blood-drenched chest, and turned toward the portal.

  The last thing he saw as he traversed the opening into October Land and left the mortal realm behind was a bright red Volkswagen Beetle’s driver side door opening.

  And then he was all the way through and closing the portal behind him.

  *****

  “No!” Katelyn scrambled from the driver’s seat of the car, barely remembering to slam the vehicle into park before she got out. The portal behind Sam pulsed once, twice, and then shut completely with a zzzzap. The air thundered a bit, like a storm not too far away, and Katelyn stared at the space where Logan had been only moments before.

  “No,” she whispered. She couldn’t believe it. Sam had actually won.

  Not only had he taken Logan away, he’d take Dominic as well. And everyone he had hurt in her world, everyone he’d killed? They were doomed.

  She ran from the car toward the emptiness where the portal had been. “Logan!” she screamed into the forest.

  Through the trees came the slightest streams of morning light as the sun came up on the horizon. The beams caught motes of dust and pollen that she’d kicked up with her car. It looked like fairy lights, calm and beautiful. In the aftermath of what she’d just seen, it was wrong.

  “Where is she?” came a familiar voice from behind her.

  Katelyn cried out in surprise and spun, her heart racing, her cheeks wet with tears. On the opposite end of the clearing stood Meagan, but she wasn’t alone. Accompanying her was a man Katelyn had never seen before.

  And a monster.

  She stared wide-eyed at the tall, broad-shouldered beast beside Meagan. He was humanoid, but only if a human were on serious steroids. His skin was the color of rock, his eyes were a strange multi-colored hue of gold and red and green, and fangs and tusks protruded slightly from his broad mouth. Words escaped her. Breath very nearly escaped her.

  As if realizing what it was that was terrifying Katelyn, Meagan hurriedly stepped forward, holding her hand out in placation. “No, don’t worry Katie,” she said. “Believe it or not… this is Mr. Lehrer.”

  “It’s true, Katelyn,” the beast agreed, speaking in what was most certainly Mr. Lehrer’s voice. “It really is me.”

  Katelyn had nothing to say to that. She was still trying to process it when Meagan again asked, “Katie, where is Logan?”

  Katelyn tore her eyes from Mr. Lehrer’s transformed figure and felt despair tug at her heart once more. “She’s gone,” she said softly. “Sam took her to his realm.”

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Dietrich felt the world drop out from under him. “And Dominic?” he asked softly, his voice catching on impending grief.

  “He was Sam,” Katelyn said, shaking her head in disbelief. “All along.”

  Dietrich recognized the hopelessness on his student’s features. Katelyn was feeling despair. He knew it because it was, to some degree, what he was feeling in that moment as well.

  This couldn’t be over. Not like this.

  Dominic and Logan had both been taken. Dietrich and two other students had been transformed into monsters. And Alec Sheffield was dead.

  Katelyn walked to the car, her movements like those of a zombie. She got in, turned the car off, and got back out again, shutting the door. Her gaze was unfocused, her cheeks streaked with the salt of tears.

  “They were fighting,” she told them. “Logan actually attacked him with a dagger.” She proceeded to tell them everything that had happened up till then, from the meeting at the railroad tracks to the point where Sam slipped through the portal carrying Logan’s unconscious body.

  Over the course of the story she relayed, Dietrich and the others found places to rest, sitting on tree stumps and boulders not far from the clearing. The sun had come up. The air was cool and crisp, and the smell of Fall was all around them.

  When the topic of conversation turned to what Meagan had experienced with Shawn Briggs, the newcomer Hugh Draper spoke up as well, filling in details from his perspective. And Dietrich realized where he’d heard that name before. Draper.

  “Oh my,” he said softly, interrupting the conversation and drawing everyone’s attention. “I know who you are. You’re the man who disappeared from the Tower of London hundreds of years ago.”

  Draper stared at him, blinking. And then he grinned widely. “Well, what do you know? It would seem I’ve made history.” He chuckled and said, “Actually, for me it was only a few hours ago that I left the Tower, but I’m glad to know that my story remains an interesting mystery.”

  “So this is what happened to you. All along, it was time travel.”

  “Indeed,” Draper admitted. “I’ve been traveling for many years.”

  “Why?” Dietrich asked. And then, “How?”

  “The ‘how’ is simple enough,” explained Draper. “It’s a spell. Albeit, a complicated spell and one that took several of my people thirty years to complete. I was chosen from a group of twelve to be the traveler. Thus far… I seem to have let everyone down.”

  “And that would be the ‘why’ part,” nudged Dietrich.

  “Yes. We come from a time and place where our kind are not accepted. In the hopes of saving my people from a foretold absolute destruction, we devised this spell, and now I search for another time and place, one in which my people will be safe.”

  “If you find this time and place, you will go back and retrieve the others?” Dietrich asked.

  Draper nodded. “I will. I must ask,” he said, going tentative, “You are magic users?”

  “Normally,” said Dietrich. “More or less.

  “Then it is accepted in your time?”

  Dietrich thought about that. The truth? If people knew he was capable of performing what they would consider real magic, there might be serious trouble. Who knew what people would think? He could be “collected” by government officials for research purposes. He could be dissected. Or, with the religious intolerance abounding the span of the globe of late and the unfortunate return to dogma in times of financial and government crisis, it was quite possible society would be no more prepared to accept him as they were his predecessors in times gone by. He could literally be burned at the stake. The gods knew that worse than that was happening already in the form of rape as an act of war and other such atrocities against humanity.

  “No,” he finally replied. “Not exactly.”

  Draper looked honestly set back at that, and Dietrich shared in his sadness. It was depressing to have to contemplate how messed up the human condition still was. It was uncomfortable to fully realize just how far you’d
come and see that it wasn’t very far at all.

  “I see,” Draper finally said. “Then I shall remain long enough to help you set things right with Samhain, since this can have a profound effect on magic for generations.” He sighed. “And then I will move on.”

  “Excuse me,” Meagan interrupted a touch impatiently. Dietrich turned to her and she flinched. No doubt she was still trying to get used to the way he looked. “This whole thing with your time travel is really cool and I’m sure it would make a wonderful detail in one of Logan’s stories, but speaking of Logan, can we please get back to the subject of what the hell we’re going to do now?”

  Dietrich cleared his throat and would have blushed if he’d been human.

  “My apologies,” said Draper, speaking for them both.

  “Are we going after them?” Katelyn asked, giving voice to the question Dietrich figured everyone there wanted to ask.

  For a minute, no one answered. Katelyn looked from face to face. Meagan did the same. Finally, Dietrich sighed. “I honestly don’t see how, though I don’t see how he took living mortals with him into his world either. It isn’t supposed to be possible for a living being to enter the Realm of the Dead.”

  Meagan made a frustrated sound and stood up. “You can’t stay looking the way you look. I mean, what the hell are you anyway?”

  “I believe he is a goblin,” said Draper.

  “Goblins are little warty things with rows of sharp teeth and mischievous streaks,” said Katelyn. “He can’t be a goblin.”

  “On the contrary, my dear girl, goblins are no such thing. They’re enormous, powerful beasts – no offense, sir – with enough strength to defeat nearly any other magical creature. It’s why they were relegated to their own realm long ago. They were deemed too dangerous to interact with others.”

  Everyone stared at Draper. Then they stared at Dietrich.

  He couldn’t disagree with the other wizard. He’d known that the Hell Hound’s bite was poisonous and that it caused some kind of transformation, but no one seemed to have personally witnessed an attack before.

  Now he knew.

  “Okay,” Meagan said numbly. “You’re a goblin.” She closed her eyes and shook her head. “This is my fault. I messed up the spell. So what if I cast it again? What if I do another one?”

  “It doesn’t work that way,” said Dietrich. The magic was specific to the first day of October. That was just how the spell was aligned.

  Meagan turned, black hair flying, and eyed the opening to the clearing a few meters away. She walked over to it, leaned against a large, peeling tree trunk, and stared at the space where, according to Katelyn, Samhain had opened a portal and slipped on through.

  The forest around the clearing had been abused by Katelyn’s car; the mud and ground cover had been torn up and thrown about and many low-lying branches were broken and oozing sap.

  So much effort to fail anyway. Dietrich had a feeling that’s what Meagan was thinking as well. He stood up, brushed off his pants, which had magically grown to transform along with him, and made his way to Meagan’s side.

  He gently placed a big, clawed hand on her shoulder. The others joined him, all four of them staring at the empty space.

  “You’re right that he couldn’t have taken her or the boy into the Realm of the Dead. However, he could have taken them into October Land,” said Draper.

  Dietrich looked down at him and considered that. “That makes sense,” he said. “The proximity would allow him most of his power and yet give him time away from us to come up with a new plan. I’m guessing the medallion protected her. It will do the same there. He’ll have to figure out a way to get it off of her.” He turned to peruse the area.

  And that was when he saw it.

  A sort of shock rocked through him. It was the kind of surprise laced with incredible hope that one might experience at seeing something large and golden in a mining tin. He couldn’t believe it. But it was really there.

  Abruptly, he grabbed Meagan by her upper arms and moved her roughly away from the tree on which she’d been leaning. She frowned and stumbled a bit, but righted herself. She was about to say something when she must have seen it too, because she went still beside him instead.

  “What is it?” she asked after a moment. “Did Logan leave that here?”

  “Yes,” Dietrich said. “Yes, she did. I can smell her blood on it.” Apparently that was a new talent he would possess in this goblin body of his. He leaned over, placing his nose close to the letters that had been carved into the tree. They were laced with the slightest traces of blood. He inhaled slowly. She must have scraped her nail completely off at the tip while carving the word. The blood was hers.

  This was her writing.

  “By the gods,” he whispered as he straightened. “I know how we’re going after them.”

  Epilogue

  The four of them stood side by side in the forest clearing, each wearing a well packed backpack, and each dressed in layers of clothing and sturdy boots. It had taken them an hour or two to acquire everything they might need, especially since Lehrer had to direct the process from the safety and privacy of the back seat of Katelyn’s car. They’d also had to deal with the two unconscious vampires they’d left in the alley earlier.

  Luckily, Dietrich’s grove possessed members who were both old enough to be familiar with the strangeness of the world, and wise enough to know how to deal with it. The group had taken Shawn and Nathan, still unconscious, to one of the older witches. She’d taken one look at Dietrich, transformed as he was, and then another at the two vampire boys with them, and she’d quickly opened her door wide and ushered everyone inside.

  Using her own magic, the witch placed the vampires under a longer stasis spell and then sequestered them in chains in the basement. Just in case. Then she told everyone to get out and fix whatever mess they’d caused. No questions asked.

  Now the four of them were ready, or at least, as ready as they would ever be. Dietrich looked down at his companions; he’d grown at least half a foot during his transformation. They looked up at him. He met Meagan’s gaze and held it.

  “Are you ready?” he asked.

  She nodded. “Yes.”

  He took a deep breath, grabbed her hand to squeeze it gently in support, and nodded.

  Meagan turned toward the tree in which Logan had carved her word. A bard’s words did not hold as much magic in this world as they did in Samhain’s realm. Not on their own.

  But when they were read by a witch, it was another story.

  Meagan licked her lips and raised her free hand toward the space that had held the portal hours earlier. Dietrich held his breath. The world quieted.

  And in a clear voice filled with magic and hope, Meagan the witch read what Logan the bard had shed her blood to write.

  “Open.”

  The End.

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  Suddenly Sam

  Book three in The October Trilogy

  by Heather Killough-Walden

  Copyright 2013 Heather Killough-Walden

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  Suddenly Sam

  By Heather Killough-Wa
lden

  Book three in The October Trilogy

  Sequel to Secretly Sam

  “I’m so glad I live in a world where there are Octobers.”

  - LM Montgomery

  Reminder about that introductory note on real history:

  In the year 1561, a highly intelligent and learned innkeeper by the name of Hugh Draper was accused of witchcraft and imprisoned in the Tower of London. During the course of his stay within the Salt Tower, he carved an imprint on one of the walls which can still be found there today. It is a highly detailed astrological Zodiac chart complete with his signature and the date of its creation.

  Unlike the vast majority of prisoners accused of performing magic during this age, Hugh Draper was not in fact innocent of performing that magic. Draper was a self-proclaimed wizard. Also unlike his fellow prisoners, Draper was not tortured, nor was he put to death. There are no records of his execution, nor his escape. There are also no records of his life after imprisonment.

  In fact, for all intents and purposes the accused wizard, Hugh Draper, simply… disappeared.

  And was lost to time.

  Prologue

  61 A.D. Island of Anglesey, Britain….

  Blood.

  She’d set the spell in motion. She’d held on long enough to weave the magic around her, separate her soul from its cursed, dying body, and slow both time and fate. But the spell could never come to fruition without one sacred thing. It was something her people had never used in their magic: Blood.

  A sacrifice.

  Others had made use of it. She’d heard tales of distant Kelts who’d succumbed to the greater magic of blood long ago. But her own people had until now refrained.

  I will be the one to end it all, to change the fate of how we are remembered, she thought in despair. I will change the stories they tell of us… years from now.