Druid's Due

by M. D. Massey

  “It was a part of me, enough to take responsibility. Anyway, even though it was only a few years ago, it seems like forever. We were just a couple of high school kids back then. I’ll always hold a flame for her, but those days are gone, Hemi.”

  He sighed. “I hope that never happens with me and Maki.”

  I patted his shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “Me too, brother, me too.”

  A voice that was becoming increasingly familiar chimed in, singing an old Nazareth song off-key. “‘Love is like a flame, it burns you when it’s hot’—right, fellas?”

  Larry appeared out of thin air across the fire from us, stretching out with his head resting over crossed forepaws. Hemi practically jumped out of his chair. I was getting used to these unexpected entrances, so I was only mildly startled.

  “Bloody hell—sneaking up on a bloke like that!” Hemi shook a fist at the creature as he stood up. “You wanna hiding, you mangy mutt?”

  “Relax, bro,” I said. “He’s annoying, but I don’t think he means any harm.”

  Hemi glared at the chupacabra, who seemed altogether unimpressed at the demigod’s display. Finally, my friend sat back down. “How d’ya do that, anyway?”

  “Magic,” Larry replied. “Not really sure how it works. I just think about fading out, and I do.”

  “Like that cloak you nicked from Gunnarson,” Hemi said to me with a grudging nod. “Thing like that comes in handy, I reckon.”

  “Larry here seems to get by alright,” I replied. I looked at the chupacabra. “There’s no food, by the way—if that’s why you’re here.”

  He raised his head and cocked it as he considered my question. “I’d take some if you had it, but naw, that’s not why I came.”

  The chupacabra dropped his head back to rest on his paws. Hemi and I looked at each other, then at the mangy cryptid.

  “What?” he asked.

  “Why’d ya come here, then?” Hemi asked through gritted teeth.

  “Oh, yeah. That hot-ass werewolf chick sent me to get you. She says another kid is missing, and they spotted La Llorona along the river.”

  Unfortunately, we were too late this time. EMS and the park authorities were already loading up a half-empty body bag on a stretcher by the time Hemi and I caught up to the girls. La Llorona had killed another victim, a young life snuffed out way too soon in the most senseless way imaginable.

  After the authorities left, we spent hours searching for the deadly specter, up and down the river banks, to no avail. Finally, dejected, depressed, and exhausted, we gave up and headed back to camp.

  It was dark by the time we arrived, yet there was a fire going when we walked into camp. Ernesto crouched by the fire, sipping a cup of coffee as he stared into the flames. I supposed it was either that or look up at the stars, and the skinwalker didn’t seem like the type to admire the beauty of nature.

  “You’re wasting your time here, Bylilly,” I said as I approached him, the others at my back. “I’m not going to do your dirty work, so you’ll just have to come up with another way for me to repay you.”

  He glared at me and set down his coffee mug. Well, our coffee mug, but after his lips had been on it, it may as well have been his. “You sure about this, druid? Breaking your promise to a brujo has consequences. And I’m certainly not one to be crossed.”

  “You’re trespassing on my territory, walker,” Fallyn said, stepping in front of me. “And it’s time for you to leave.”

  Ernesto scowled. “This doesn’t involve you, whelp, nor the Austin Pack. Tell me, does your father know you’re making enemies for the Pack on his behalf?”

  Jesse tsked. “I think you’re barking up the wrong tree. She kind of does what she pleases.” Her hair began to fan out around her, and her hands burst into black flames as eyes started to glow a pale green. “Now, I don’t like that you’re threatening my friend, so I’m seconding Fallyn’s suggestion. Leave, or one of us is going to throw you over the cliff.”

  Ernesto’s eyes widened at Jesse’s display. “Amazing,” he whispered to himself. “I wouldn’t believe it if I hadn’t seen it—”

  “I’ll do it,” Hemi said, cutting Ernesto off by smacking his war club in his palm. “And I’ll toss him real high first, so he has an extra ways to fall.”

  “I approve of that plan,” Bells said as she sighted down the barrel of her Desert Eagle at Ernesto. “And I bet I can empty a magazine in him before he hits the ground.”

  I held my hands up and looked around at my companions. “Seems as though you’re outnumbered, Ernesto. We’ve all had a long day, so get lost before this gets ugly.”

  Ernesto stopped staring at Jesse long enough to glare at me for a few seconds. Then he stood, and as he did, his shadow stretched and lengthened behind him. It might have been a trick of the light, but I could have sworn his shadow looked more beast than human. It was altogether creepy, and a reminder that I really had no idea about the limits of Ernesto’s powers, or what he might do if attacked.

  “So be it, druid,” the skinwalker hissed as he backed away from the fire. “Just remember that I gave you a chance to repay your debt. What happens next is on you.”

  I summoned a fireball and let it hover over my outstretched hand. “I’m getting bored of this conversation, Bylilly. Leave, and that’s the last time I’ll say it.”

  He threw something at the fire, and the flames roared fifteen feet or more in an instant, blinding me until they died down a second later. By that time, Ernesto was gone.

  “Don’t think we’ve seen the last of him,” Hemi remarked.

  “Not by a long shot,” I replied. I looked around at the others. They all looked depressed and worn thin. “It’s been a shit day. I’ll set up some wards around camp—that way, we can all get some sleep.”

  “Don’t have to tell me twice,” Fallyn said, heading off toward one of the tents.

  Jesse flashed me a weak, inscrutable smile. “Goodnight, Colin.”

  She turned toward the tents, and I called out after her. “Jess? What was Ernesto so freaked out about?”

  Jesse’s eyes were sad, but otherwise her expression betrayed little. “It’s nothing, Colin. Don’t worry about it.”

  “Look, I know you’re tired—we all are. So I guess we can talk about it later.” I rubbed the back of my neck. “Oh, and thanks for having my back just now.”

  “I always have, and I always will,” she said without looking back as she entered her tent.

  While the other girls had gone to bed, Belladonna just kind of stood there looking lost. For lack of any better options, I pointed at my tent. “You can take mine, Bells. I plan to stay up a while anyway, to set up the wards.”

  She gave a nearly imperceptible shake of her head. “Actually, I’m staying at the lodge tonight, then I’m heading back to Austin in the morning.” She glanced at the tents where Fallyn and Jesse had retreated for the night. “It’s a little crowded around here. And despite the current situation, I think you have things covered.”

  An uncomfortable silence followed. I decided to break it, against my better judgement. “I never meant to hurt you, Bells.”

  She nodded once, blank-faced, although her voice was tight with emotion. “Yo lo sé, pero no duele menos. Take care, Colin.” Without giving me time to respond, she bounded off into the night.

  “You too,” I whispered.

  I stared after her for a long time, until Hemi cleared his throat. Feeling slightly embarrassed, I turned around to face him. “You stuck around for that?”

  “You two were between me and my tent. Been a bit awkward to interrupt that exchange, aye?”

  I exhaled heavily. “You think Ernesto will be back tonight?” I asked.

  Hemi looked at the surrounding dark with a frown on his face. “Mebbe. He seemed awful interested in Jesse. Question is, you really going to trust your wards with that creep running around out there?”

  “Not on your life. I’ll take first watch.”

  13


  I got up early the next morning and took off alone to find some answers. We had two skinwalkers traipsing around the park, revenants popping up out of nowhere, a specter killing kids, and no idea what was going on. Clearly, I needed to get to the bottom of it all, and currently I had only one lead. La Onza was the one missing piece of the puzzle—something told me that if I found her, I’d also find out how everything was connected.

  Larry showed up beside me about fifteen minutes after I left camp, just like I knew he would. “What’s the plan, chief?”

  “Well Larry, it’s like this.” In the blink of an eye, I’d snagged the mangy rat-dog by his scruff, holding him up in front of me. “I need to find La Onza, and something tells me you know where to find her.”

  “Me? How would I know—”

  I formed a fireball in my other hand. “I wonder how long you’d last if I shoved this down your throat—curse be damned.”

  “Alright, alright. I might know where she has a hideout. Set me down and I’ll show you.”

  I extinguished the fireball, then I pulled out a magic marker and drew a symbol on his rump. “That rune is a tracking spell. Disappear, and I will find you and end you.”

  “C’mon, druid, you know I wouldn’t ditch you. I need you to kill Ernesto so I can be rid of this curse. Think about it—I got a vested interest in seeing you succeed.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Whatever. Just lead me to La Onza.”

  “Follow me, then.”

  Larry headed southwest toward the Rio Grande and Santa Elena canyon. When we reached the river, we took the canyon trail—a path that led to nowhere, according to park maps.

  “Larry, this trail doesn’t go anywhere. It’s a dead end.”

  “Ah, you only think it’s a dead end. But you’ll see.”

  Just when I thought we’d reached the end of the trail, Larry showed me a cleverly-hidden set of handholds and steps in the cliffs that led to a ledge above. Once we’d made the climb—me in the conventional manner, and Larry by jumping goat-like from handhold to handhold—we followed the ledge to a slot canyon that had been artfully obscured by illusory magic. The obfuscation spell was old, and had been reinforced many times over the years. From what I could tell, the caster had been keeping this area a secret for decades, or perhaps even centuries.

  Larry nodded toward the entrance to the canyon before sitting down in the shade of a rocky overhang. “Her cave’s in there. La Onza’s not, though, I can tell you that. She don’t get found unless she wants to be found. But you want to poke around in her stuff, have at it. I’m staying out here.”

  “Fine,” I said, heading into the wide cleft in the cliffs.

  A short ways into the canyon, the path inclined steeply upwards, and soon I was easily a hundred feet above where we’d started on the banks of the river. Fifty yards in, the canyon dead-ended at a cliff wall, underneath an overhang that jutted from the cliff face thirty feet above. I scaled up to the overhang, where I found a ledge maybe ten feet wide in front of a small cave that had been hidden from view below.

  Place is warded nine ways to Sunday. Someone really doesn’t want to be bothered.

  A closer look at the wards told me they were old, layered, and dangerous. Whoever cast them was very good with protective magic, and I doubted I could unravel the spellwork. But I thought I might be able to send a probe past them, just to see what was back there.

  I found a smooth, round pebble and rolled it between my palms, infusing it with magic and attuning it to my druid senses. Then, I looked for a gap in La Onza’s wards—all I needed was a small hole to toss the stone through. I soon found what I was looking for, and flicked the pebble from my open palm through the hole.

  The stone popped past the wards with nary a fizzle of magic, landing in the dirt beyond. I sat down cross-legged, closed my eyes, and focused on the pebble. Seconds later, the stone began to roll away from me.

  This was one of the first spells I’d learned, a primitive method of using sound waves to scout an area before entering. Although I couldn’t see it, I could sense where it was going, connected as it was to me through my magic. My magic also conveyed every single sound the stone made as it skittered around the circumference of the cave ahead. It was crude, but effective.

  Unfortunately, something else had detected those sounds as well. Although there’d been nothing there before, I suddenly sensed a presence—something old, dark, and powerful.

  A guardian spirit. Should be alright on this side of the wards—

  Before I could complete the thought, a large clawed hand reached out of the cave entrance, snatching me and pulling me through the wards.

  Strangely, I didn’t set the wards off when I passed through them. Instead, it felt more like I’d passed through a magic portal. And indeed, the other side of the magical barrier looked quite different from what I’d seen just moments before.

  I was in the same cave, but it wasn’t exactly the same. This place was ill-lit, gloomy, and oppressive, and no light filtered in from outside the entrance. Shadows gathered in the far corners of the cave like thick black spider webs, and the darkness seemed to press in on me from all sides.

  Momentarily, I had a flashback to the time when Maeve abandoned me in a lightless cave deep underground. It had been without a doubt one of the worst experiences of my life. A lump formed in the pit of my stomach as cold, stark fear began to grip me. I shook the memory off by reminding myself this was an entirely different situation. Once I’d regained a bit of mental calm, I slowed my breathing and focused on dealing with my current predicament.

  Panic time is over, Colin—time to figure this shit out.

  It was entirely possible that my presence had triggered a darkness spell when I was pulled through La Onza’s wards. To test that theory, I cast a light spell and tossed it at the cavern ceiling above. Instead of floating up and illuminating the area around me, it rose a few feet and then fizzled out.

  Well, that’s different.

  Even more peculiar was the silence. The ambient nature sounds that had been present just moments before were now gone. I no longer heard the waters of the Rio Grande rushing through the canyon, the wind whistling past the cave entrance, birds chirping as they flew overhead—it had all been replaced by an almost palpable absence of background noise.

  I kept my eyes on the shadows deeper within the cavern, and hollered over my shoulder. “Hey, Larry? You still out there?”

  Nothing. Shit.

  I took a good look around me, finally coming to grips with the situation. This place was a darker, fucked up version of the cave I’d seen through La Onza’s wards, and it was pretty easy to determine that I definitely was not in Kansas anymore. When I’d been dragged through the wards, apparently I’d been transported to some dark, parallel dimension—an alternate version of La Onza’s cave on another plane of existence.

  It wasn’t uncommon for powerful magic-users to capture, coax, or enslave supernatural entities to guard their homes and treasures. The presence I’d felt must’ve been some sort of guardian spirit, and it was a good bet that thing had transported me here. Where “here” was, I had no clue—not really. But the fact that this creature could portal me to another dimension told me it was probably not to be trifled with.

  It has to still be here. Is it watching me? Studying me, maybe, before it attacks?

  I didn’t want to think about the alternative, which was that it had pulled me into this shadowy, alternate dimension only to leave me here. Reaching out with my senses, I probed the area beyond to see if I was truly alone.

  “Interesting. It possesses more than one kind of magic,” something said in a voice that sounded like nails being dragged across a chalkboard—high and reedy, and altogether unsettling.

  “It does,” I answered. “Care to tell me where I am?”

  “The shadow dimension,” it replied. “Think of it as a parallel universe, just beneath the skin of your own reality.”

  The words echoed off the walls of the
cave a few times before being eaten up by the unnatural silence. I probed further, but instead of finding a life form in the darkness beyond, I sensed a large area that was barren of any living presence. At first I thought nothing of it, then that large dead spot began moving closer.

  Curious.

  I took a deep whiff of the stale air in the cavern. The odor that met my nostrils was a scent I’d become intimately familiar with during my time in the Hellpocalypse. I could recognize that combination of decaying flesh, clotted blood, and grave dirt anywhere.

  “I wonder,” the reedy voice said. “Does it do tricks?”

  “It does, vampire. Come any closer, and you’ll find out just what my magic can do.”

  If I can get a spell to work here, that is.

  The thing made a dry, wheezing noise that sounded like a carnival organ on its last legs.

  “Little wizard, you speak with no mere vampire. Does a puddle call itself an ocean? Does the firefly compare itself to the moon? You stand in the presence of something much older and greater than those anemia-stricken corpses who call themselves vampires.” The thing wheezed another short laugh. “No, I am no vampire.”

  “Fine, so you’re not a vampire,” I replied. “Whatever you are, it looks to me like you were captured and placed here to guard La Onza’s lair. That tells me you’re not quite as high and mighty as you let on.”

  Shadows gathered around the dead spot, a column of night ten feet across and easily fifteen feet high. “Careful now, mortal. I’ve not had a meal in some time, and my curiosity is easily overcome by my hunger. Choose your words carefully, because every stray syllable may shorten your already meager lifespan.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” I said. “So far, all I’ve seen from you is a lot of boasting and bluster, and frankly, I think you’re bluffing. So, let’s just move this whole thing along and get to the point where you try to eat me so I can split your skull open, alright?”

  That got its attention.