The Hallowed Knight

by Jenn Stark

  Behind us, the wall hissed with excitement and bulged out, a burst of laughter rising up with it, this time with discernible words. Hallowed, the very rocks breathed. Hallowed, hallowed, hallowed!

  “Run!” I squeaked. Dammit! I was supposed to be protecting the Fool down here—not letting him dash off like Alice through the looking glass. “Simon, stay with us!”

  I shoved William ahead of me, then took off after them both, pausing only once I was through the doorway to cast twin balls of flame back into the walls—which was a mistake. First off, my fingers barely emitted a thin crackle of energy. Secondly, the stone surfaces seemed to move even faster after that, a wave of thick rock bursting forward, filling the tiny carved doorway and spilling out into the corridor. Assaulted with yet more mocking laughter, I took off pell-mell down the passageway after William and Simon, who was racing ahead, his laughter a mix of pure joy and excitement that didn’t stop even when he shouted about a cavern of bones.

  It was difficult to hear him above the roar of the rock cavalcade behind me.

  We ran and ran, and at one point, I turned back to try my magic again to no avail, only to find the passages had shifted when I turned back forward again, while Simon and William were nowhere to be seen. With the rock closing in around me, I had no choice but to choose one of the remaining options and take off.

  But though William and Simon weren’t with me, that didn’t mean I was alone. Chittering, rumbling, and yet more giggles accompanied me on my mad dash, along with something new: rustling and racing feet. I got the impression of bodies—short, squat, monkey-like bodies—which didn’t make me feel any better. I didn’t know if I was hearing things or if there really were other creatures in this infernal place, but I couldn’t slow down to check. I finally spilled into a wider space—I don’t even know how long after—but of course, neither William nor Simon were here either. I heard laughter far off, but it was too low, too dark to be either the Fool or the Irishman.

  I stood, swaying on my feet, my lungs heaving as I tried to get my bearings. I prayed that the two of them had taken a different turn than I had, but there was no way of knowing. Simon could have fed an army of twelve guys for a month given the size of his pack, but knowing Simon, he’d filled it full of video games, not rations. And of course, I was supposed to have protected him. Wasn’t that what Armaeus had asked me to do? Yes. Yes it was.

  Instead, Simon and William were lost—and so was I.

  Aces.

  I sighed, inching forward through the darkness, trying manfully not to employ magic of any sort, the shard of Nul Magis aching in my palm. It was the second time in only a few days that my abilities hadn’t been as useful as they should be, and for the record, I wasn’t a fan.

  I rummaged in my pockets, pulling out my cards, then tensed, waiting to hear the telltale sound of Hallowed in the whispering rock. But there was nothing. I pulled a card out, squinting to see it—then almost cried out in pain as a shaft of bright light suddenly burst into existence in front of me, practically searing my retinas.

  I flinched away before getting a glimpse at the card, then rolled my eyes at what it portrayed. The Hermit, depicting a cloaked and hooded man holding up a lantern, a beacon in the darkness.

  While in front of me stood a cloaked and hooded man holding up a lantern, a beacon in the darkness. Gotta love how literal the cards were in Ireland, I’d give ’em that.

  “Welcome, Justice Wilde,” the man in front of me intoned. “We’ve been waiting for you.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  I didn’t move. Despite the lantern and threadbare robes, the man in front of me was not the actual Hermit of the Arcana Council, though I sure could use some illumination right about now. Or even a fatherly hug. But I didn’t know if this figure was friend or foe, or even alive. Was this some phantom of the In Between?

  “I’m not alone,” I warned. “Or I wasn’t. There were two men in these tunnels with me.”

  The hooded man in front of me said nothing, and my temper spiked.

  “So, word to the wise, I’m a little stressed out here,” I continued. “You either stop me with magic or get out of my way, but there are two men in this tunnel that I need to take care of, and if I don’t get really clear on where they are right now, it’s not going to be pretty. I’m not sure what the end result will be of me going Hulk smash when my abilities aren’t tracking the right way, but I know for a fact you’re not going to like it.”

  The man remained unperturbed. “Your companions are safe, but they’ve sustained injuries. I will take you to them that you may heal them in divine order.”

  That didn’t sound too promising. I flicked my third eye open, and this man definitely had the goods. Magic didn’t merely swirl around him, it rolled off him in waves. And he wasn’t alone. With the aid of my third eye’s second sight, I was finally able to see that the energy spike extended beyond this man and into the next several rooms, where, eventually, there were four more little glow balls waiting for me. Why hadn’t I been able to see this before? “You guys having a party down here I should know about?”

  “You of all people can appreciate the value of keeping to the shadows, Justice Wilde. You simply have once more stepped closer into the light. The walls will no longer follow you now. You’re safe. Seamus told us to expect you and to prepare. We hope we have done both.”

  “Right. So you’re, uh, human.”

  “Very much so.” I could hear the smile in his voice as he answered.

  “And you’re currently alive, not some phantom of the In Between.”

  “I remain a humble servant of earth and sky, wind, and rain,” he agreed. I couldn’t get a fix on the man’s age from his voice, but he talked with a certain gravity that gave him a sense of having logged far more years on the planet than I had, though I didn’t get the feeling that any of his psychic abilities were currently bent toward extending that age. If anything, the man had a sense of being almost obscenely pure in his magic—if there was such a thing as a vegan Connected, this guy would be it.

  “And you’ve got Simon and William? They weren’t eaten by the monkey trolls?” I asked the question defensively, going for humor, but the man stopped, turning to me sharply.

  “The guardians of the In Between,” he murmured. “So the stories are true.”

  “Ahh…stories?”

  “You’re very lucky, Justice Wilde. Lucky, or stronger than you realize. The creatures that roam the In Between are many, but none are so voracious as the stone imps you encountered. For them to be on the move…there is fell magic indeed coursing through the In Between. Did they say anything?”

  “Well, something did. Hallowed.”

  “Oh. We should be going then." Without saying anything further, he led me into another very small, nondescript chamber that was empty, significant only because of the door at its far side. That door gleamed with carvings inlaid with silver, a tree with branches that extended skyward and roots that stretched down deep. As soon as I saw it, a chill ran through me, and a few pieces of the puzzle dropped in place. So did the memory of the rectangular door that’d appeared right before the Fomorians had poured through to enter Dixie’s chapel. The magic here was deep—and old. Very old.

  The druid moved toward the door, but I held out a hand to stop him. I’d heard Seamus’s side of the story of his rogue druid son, but I wanted more context.

  “While I’ve got you all to myself, bring me up to speed. What’s your take on the Neo-Celts?”

  “Is that what they’re calling themselves now?” the druid asked, again with a cadence to his words that made him seem as old as time. “It’s never enough for the old ways to make a resurgence. They always must be remade, refashioned, reborn. It’s as if those in the newest generation are always too embarrassed to embrace a belief that’s existed for centuries untold before them. Instead, they must reform it to make it their own. It’s the way of the untutored and the neophyte. But there are tim
es that the teacher must be taught, and it is the student who can show the way.”

  “That’s beautiful,” I deadpanned, then repeated, “So what’s your take on the Neo-Celts?”

  “I think they are a threat, if that’s the answer you’re seeking. I think they are stronger than even they realize, and certainly stronger than anyone around them realizes. Once that realization is made, however, by the greater world around them, it will go…poorly for them, I think.”

  I nodded. I suspected he was right. “And Conal McCarthy?”

  “One of our greatest successes, and most abject failures,” the druid said, his matter-of-fact tone oddly incongruent with the heaviness of his words. “Conal swore he would usher in a rebirth of our order, and we wanted to believe him. We did believe him, for far too long. When he fell away from the order and defied Seamus, he drew some of our youngest, strongest druids with him. Unfortunately, his path is not one of rebirth, but of chaos. He seeks to incite untrained Connecteds to public acts that will result in their persecution, not their celebration. And he’s grown far too strong, too quickly, for us to handle him as we would prefer, quietly and secretly.”

  “Uh-huh. So is Conal the Hallowed Knight?” I pressed.

  Long pause. “We sincerely hope not.”

  I looked around the darkened room, hung with gloom except for the gleaming door. This was an order that had existed in the shadows for millennia. Had it not been for the surge of magic during the battle of the gods, they might have been able to police Conal, but the Connecteds as a whole? No. Seamus was right to have summoned me. Me, and the Council at large.

  So I’d best be getting on with things. I gestured to the wooden panel before us. “Where does this go, exactly? And why is it so sparkly?”

  “This is one of the most popular entrances into the In Between, and as it happens, it’s also your fastest way out,” the druid said, his voice warming with enthusiasm as if he was giving me the location of a famous Dublin pub. “It thrives from the energy of all those who pass beneath its blessed arch.”

  That maybe sort of made sense. “Exactly how many of you travel these passages on a regular basis? And is it only druids? Or are there other groups that use these byways too?” Like super-scaly lizard groups?

  “Well, you clearly can use them, Justice, though they’re not well known among your Council. Except to Death, of course.”

  “Yeah, except her,” I said. “Though from what I understand, she doesn’t usually make it back for the St. Patrick’s Day party.”

  “That she does not. I sense the other questions within you, but they are not mine to answer. We don’t know how many Fomorians are walking the passages of the In Between. We do know they are very dangerous, and that the deaths in Las Vegas are only the beginning.”

  “They’ll kill more?”

  “It’s inevitable. We also know very little of Death in the present age, other than that she refuses to return to the land of her people for reasons unknown. Whether it’s a grudge or a pledge or a personal vendetta—we have no idea. She’s given us no hint whatsoever as to her true thoughts.”

  “That pretty much sounds like the Death I know.”

  “Then perhaps it’s time we renewed our acquaintance with her. It has been far too long.”

  I wasn’t liking his odds for a cheerful family reunion. Part of my mission here was to protect Death, but I didn’t think these guys were going to be a problem for her. “If she shows up, be careful. She’s carrying a several-thousand-year-old chip on her shoulder, and you don’t want to be the one to knock it off.”

  “In that, I would agree with you, Justice Wilde.”

  The druid placed his hand upon the panel and murmured something beneath his breath that I couldn’t quite catch. Though I could decipher any language I heard, there remained the small problem of needing to hear it. The panel, however, seemed to hear it just fine. The silver inlay glowed brightly for a moment, then the door swung open into the room beyond. A room that was far more distinct in its shape and form than the one we’d just left, for the record. We stepped in. The illumination was brighter here. My eyes were drawn immediately to the two men lying on the stone floor, surrounded by a bunch of guys in bathrobes.

  Simon and William, out cold. Dammit.

  “What happened to them?” I asked, forcing myself not to set everyone on fire.

  “Nothing, so far as we can see,” my guide said, unperturbed. “They appeared to both be struck down by some force we cannot identify, but it’s a force that’s left no visible signs of injury. They’re unconscious but asleep, and they appear to be more or less unharmed. We didn’t want to move them when we realized you were following, for obvious reasons.”

  My third eye was still in full operation, and as I moved forward, I immediately knew that that the druid was correct. William and Simon were unconscious, but that was all. There was no magic suppressing their activities or their movements, and there was only the faintest beginnings of bruises at their temples.

  “This wasn’t done by some random, nebulous force,” I mused. “This looks more like they were clubbed. Who else is roaming through these passages besides the Fomorians?”

  I’d asked this question once already, but yet again, I didn’t get the answer I wanted, mainly because I didn’t get any answer at all. The group was completely silent, and I looked up in irritation.

  “Look, you can tell me now or you can tell me later, but either way, I’m going to find out. There’s no use having a secret from me, because it’s not going to last.” I stopped short of saying, “we have ways of making you talk,” for which I believed I deserved a medal.

  “There have been rumors,” my druid guide said at length, “of others taking the byways before the recent arrival of the Fomorians. Some of the demon horde, for example, and even darker creatures, lurking in the gloom. It takes someone with the ancient knowledge to open the passages and close them again without any of us catching on. But every now and again, you’ll find a door to one of the tomb passages left ajar, followed by the story of a spelunker gone missing and reemerging hundreds of miles away. It happens so infrequently that we can always shrug them off, and of course there’s long been the popular bias toward suppressing stories of this nature to aid us in that effort. Though that too is changing, as so much is in the world.”

  I settled back on my heels, looking up from Simon and William. “What do you mean?”

  “We live in a world of transparency, of winnowing everything down to its core. It’s not the kind of world that does well with magic, for all that the New Agers profess to want to embrace it. Everything needs an explanation now, everything must have a purpose and a place. Everything must be recorded to be believed.”

  “Do you yell at kids for playing on your lawn as well?”

  “It’s easy to be smug, but you’re running up against it as well, Justice Wilde. Far more so. The rule of Justice is not merely to protect the Connected from themselves, it’s to protect the Connected from themselves.”

  “You do realize you just repeated yourself.”

  “Not at all. You’ve seen it yourself in a small way. In the altercations you’ve experienced this very week in your own city.”

  “The Neo-Celts squaring off against these spectral opposition warriors or whatever they’re calling themselves? That sort of thing is bound to happen.”

  “Beyond that,” he said, shaking his head. “You watched users of magic unafraid to use their abilities in public where anyone could see, in a world where everything is captured on cell phones and transmitted all over the world. There are no secrets in a world such as this, not that can last very long. You don’t think the fight at the festival grounds wasn’t noticed?”

  I narrowed my eyes. Though the psychic festival fight had been hella concerning, it also hadn’t technically happened. Armaeus had rolled back time specifically to keep it from happening. “How do you know about that?”

  “Time p
asses differently in the In Between. And there are many doors that need not be opened fully to serve their purpose.”

  “Needlessly vague, but okay.” I shrugged. “But there has always been magic to be had for those who were willing to look. The black market of the Connected community has thrived as long as the Connected community has existed. The knowledge isn’t new.”

  “Granted, but now there is magic being shown to those who had no intention of looking, who don’t even know how to fully process what they’ve seen. In the span of a few short months, you’ve experienced significant weather disturbances in your efforts to keep the gods from piercing the veil, an influx of demons that, like it or not, is bubbling up into the mainstream of society, and now you have wielders of illusion and fire who are bold enough to use their abilities in public without concern for collateral damage. Even in a country as lax as the United States is when it comes to gun laws, everyone will rally around the idea of not being attacked by a magic ball of fire.”

  “That’s probably true,” I allowed. I thought of the spectral opposition warriors. I really needed to do something about them before they got out of hand.

  “It is also the real reason why we wanted to meet with you today, why we entered the shadows of the In Between to pull you gently toward us. Though we didn’t know you’d face such trials.”

  I tried to not think about the monkey trolls. “What, you guys don’t hang out down here on the regular?”

  “No.” Though my question was flippant, his answer wasn’t. “The In Between is meant as a passage, not a dwelling place. You stay within its confines too long at your own peril.”

  I blew out a long breath, hoping he was right about Conal not being a past Temperance. It sounded like anyone staycationing in the In Between wouldn’t end up in great shape.

  The druid’s gentle voice continued. “You must understand the importance of this altercation you’re about to have with Conal McCarthy, Justice Wilde. The Neo-Celts and their leader believe they are pure of heart. They have the fire of zealotry to guide them and real magic to prove that what they believe is the truth. They will not back down simply because you tell them to. Civility has fallen away in every corner of our world, and the idea of following the guidance of others simply because it is for the good of the whole no longer holds sway among these people. They will act because they can act, and perhaps in part because they’ve never had the strength to act before.”