War Hammer: A Nate Temple Supernatural Thriller Book 8 (The Temple Chronicles)

by Shayne Silvers

  But now, we were reunited. And decisions needed to be made. Namely, I needed to get Wylde’s take on Mallory.

  The other half of my soul reached out, and tentatively embraced him.

  And memories rolled over me.

  Chapter 39

  Sitting on Pan’s lap, listening to him tell me stories about Manlings, and how they weren’t as terrifying as Talon had made them sound. Talon sat beside us, amazed at this knowledge.

  Pan showing us how to hunt, and how to beat the most dangerous of foes in combat.

  Pan helping my mother clean up after dinner.

  Pan talking my father down after an argument with my mother, while Talon and I leaned against the door, listening, spying.

  And hundreds of other moments – shards of a life long forgotten.

  Pan was… like a grandfather to me. An example of manhood when my stubbornness prevented me from seeing the same in my father – like all children did at one point or another – only realizing too late that what fathers preached oftentimes made perfect sense later in life, even though it had only made us angry at our first hearing of it.

  And through him, I felt things I had never seen as Wylde.

  The utter torment as Pan watched Talon and I sparring with sticks in the field before the cave, crying softly as he watched me, shaking his head defiantly as he muttered to himself, I can’t do it, I can’t do it, I could never kill this special, beautiful boy… over and over again like a mantra.

  Pan’s epic argument with my parents, where they had made him promise to kill me if I turned bad. He had understood their position, but he kept staring down at his hands, where I had painted a crude feather on the back of his wrist, telling him he was the best old man I had ever met.

  My parents were openly sobbing as well, telling Pan that they couldn’t be trusted to do it. Their love would prevent it, and they would try to stop Pan, but that he must do it anyway.

  I snapped out of my focus when I heard low, rough sobs from Mallory in the present, hand visibly shaking as he stared down at his feet. He was thumbing the back of his hand, not even aware of the motion. I placed my hand over it, halting his motion, and he flinched. Then he slowly lifted red-rimmed eyes, and his other fingertips glowed with golden light as he smudged the back of his hand, revealing…

  A duplicate of the feather I had drawn so long ago.

  I met his eyes, my heart breaking.

  He nodded, smiling in embarrassment. “I had it permanently tattooed there, later. As a reminder… Of both the good and the bad,” he added the last in an anguished whisper.

  I let out a breath, and leaned back on my hands, trying to stop my arms from shaking.

  I stared down at the rock, frowning.

  “A rock,” I finally said, breaking the silence.

  He grunted. “Apparently, but I’m sure it’s something more. They said only you could see it, and this in itself was a test…” he answered, frowning down at it.

  I pondered that, not even angry that – of course – my parents had another test for me. Even from beyond the grave they continued to test me. Not only had I been forced to prove to Mallory that I wasn’t a sociopath, but my reward for that was that I was given another test.

  So, how would this pertain only to me? Surely, anyone could strike it and break it open to discover its secret.

  “It’s impervious to harm. I tested the corner of it,” Mallory admitted, reading my thoughts. I arched a brow at him, and he shrugged guiltily. “You can’t ask someone to hold something for twenty years and not grow curious…”

  I grunted, completely understanding that. I would have lasted a day or so before attempting to crack it. Well, maybe longer. But probably not.

  Which pretty much left me with the obvious answer. If Mallory had tried breaking it open – unsuccessfully – then the only thing setting me apart from any other badass was my Fae juice.

  Any ideas, Wylde?

  He was staring at the stone through my eyes, feeling very uneasy.

  Then I felt my hand slowly reaching towards it, guided by Wylde. I let him, not knowing what to do myself. Plus, Wylde was myself. I wasn’t about to start having trust issues with my own inner psyche. That would mean that Mallory had made the wrong decision, and that would be the end of my story.

  My fingers hesitated before the stone, as if asking permission. I grunted agreement.

  Then my fingertip gently touched the stone, and it… rippled.

  With an earth-shattering crack, the grass all around us flattened in an instant, and Mallory grunted as he fell onto his back.

  I remained motionless, unaffected by the sudden force all around me, and I stared in wonder at the stone cube, suddenly reminded of the items in the Mausoleum – how they had been encased in stone, camouflaged from view.

  But this didn’t turn into a smaller, prettier cube.

  The rock simply washed away like wet mud, to reveal a raw, stone encased hammer.

  And when I say hammer, I mean a one-handed, godly son of a bitch. Power vibrated from it, pulsing into me, and I saw that Mallory was visibly holding himself, as if in pain at the proximity of such raw power.

  The handle was about as long as my forearm, and wrapped in aged, braided leather, with gold and silver wire interweaving between the strips. The haft ended at a large, stone block, that seemed to pulse with golden light from deep within. The stone of the hammer was rough, not smooth – as if the discarded dream of a someday great weapon. As if the weapon-smith hadn’t yet decided on the final look, and had left the stone raw instead. But that golden light shone from within, looking like faint, obstructed runes, and I felt a very small shiver as I noticed a single word carved into the stone by a crude hand.

  Birthright.

  I slowly turned to Mallory, my eyes wide. “That’s not…” I whispered faintly, unable to say it out loud.

  His eyes darted from me to the hammer, face contorted in confusion, as if having never met me before. “That… can’t be possible…” he rasped, studying me and then the hammer again.

  “You haven’t lied to me about anything, right? About my mom maybe hooking up with the milkman, or… a guy selling thunderbolts cave-to-cave, right?”

  Mallory shook his head violently. “No,” he stammered. “I swear it—”

  I heard grass rustling behind us, and instantly grasped the hammer, shoving it behind me as I spun on the ground. Alucard rounded the hill, eyes latching onto us. He looked relieved to have found us. “You guys okay? Something exploded nearby. And something else blew up in the ocean not long before that…” he eyed Mallory, and then shot him a guilty grin. “To be honest, I kind of hoped not to see you here. That maybe Nate had given you a gentle shove.”

  Mallory stammered in confusion. “What?” His eyes were wild, as if struggling to wrap his head around what he had just seen – as well as Alucard’s words.

  “I bet Yahn that Nate had thrown you into the ocean.” He shrugged, feigning disappointment.

  “We’re fine, Alucard. We’re not finished speaking, though. Thanks for checking up on us.”

  He watched us for a few moments, face blank, and then he nodded, turning away.

  We remained frozen for a good five minutes, shooting silent looks at each other.

  Then I spun back to the hammer, and hefted in in my hands. My palm thrummed with immeasurable power from the hilt, even though the weapon wasn’t fully uncovered – still encased in stone.

  “I think you should hide that motherfucker in your satchel for later,” Mallory breathed.

  I arched a brow at his choice of words, especially considering my last question to him, about Odin getting jiggy with my mom at some point. Too soon.

  He flushed, realizing from my smile that he had said something inappropriate. “Not what I meant,” he breathed, shaking his head. “But my advice still stands. Perhaps uncovering it sent off another alarm. We need to get out of here. Back to safety. We needed to anyway – what with Oberon’s warnings, but…”
his eyes locked on to the hammer again. “Especially now.”

  I nodded, and shoved the hammer inside my satchel.

  What the fuck kind of crazy, acid fairy trip had my hippie parents been on when they decided to come here, and where the hell had they gotten the idea?

  Mallory had mentioned texts from England. Where I had just sent Baba and Van…

  I climbed to my feet. “Let’s round up the gang. I’m suddenly opposed to sticking around here any longer. Even though I have a million questions…” Mallory agreed, and we made our way back in relative silence. I did say one last thing. “Did I tell you that I spoke to Odin yesterday? He told me to keep valuable things locked up at home…” Mallory actually fell over, but I didn’t slow down to help him, simply continued on, shaking my head. What had he meant?

  Someone was going to pay for this shit. Seriously pay.

  Chapter 40

  Alucard snarled, his fangs catching the orange light from the lava rock. “Let them come,” he snarled hungrily, eyes pulsing faintly with the same glow as his fangs.

  Yahn yawned, entirely unconcerned. “When will we return, exactly? A minute after we left? Or…” he trailed off, tapping his lips with a finger, glass on glass. Ting, ting, ting.

  Wulfra spoke up. “We do not know how far we can trust Oberon. Remember what happened last time…” she growled, meeting my eyes briefly.

  I nodded, sighing as I combed my fingers through my hair. “She has a point,” I admitted.

  Mallory sighed. “I don’t know how he could wiggle around his oath, and judging from our shared… consciousness, I don’t believe he wants to risk the backlash of what may happen if he reneges on his commitment, even though the consequences if caught will be severe. The Queens will be none too pleased.” He glanced at me pointedly. “With either of you.”

  Wulfric stepped forward, glancing down at my satchel. “I don’t think keeping the hourglass here is a good idea. We don’t know how long the wards will stay up, or if they are entirely up right now. Oberon said they were weak. And carrying that around is like tossing a steak on our backs. Even though Oberon said he wouldn’t snitch on us, there are many factions in Fae, and I could imagine they would be more than happy to catch you and prove Oberon a liar with one act. Possibly gaining the Queens’ favor…”

  I muttered angrily under my breath. We had come here, saved Ashley, and found everything in the best possible light. The things we had come here for, anyway. But we hadn’t anticipated the extra drama, namely, the history lesson.

  But did it really change anything? Was I blowing things out of proportion? Not that it wasn’t vitally important information, but was it time sensitive? After all, if Matthias and Castor took me out, would any of it really matter? Wylde murmured his agreement, although his heart didn’t sound in it. Tactically, it made sense, but he was deeply troubled about the news that he was a broken off part of me, and not his own person.

  “Makers first. We’ll figure this Fairy crap out later,” I finally said. “Be ready to leave in ten.”

  Everyone departed except Talon and Mallory, who didn’t have anything to pack. Mallory had relied on the things he found here to nurse Ashley back to health. Talon had his spear, and his old friend, Wylde. That was all he needed.

  I approached them, speaking softly. “How do we get out of here? I could probably wing it, but I don’t want to accidentally leave anyone behind. Did my parents have a convenient backdoor in this cave? How did we leave the first time? I doubt we traveled across the Land of the Fae if we were trying to avoid attention.”

  “They had love. It let them leave.”

  He discreetly jerked his thumb at Wulfric and Wulfra – Gunnar and Ashley. “They’re taken care of in that regard.” He studied the rest of my friends, who were scrambling about, hiding evidence that anyone had been here.

  “The horses can come and go as they please, and you two should be able to do the same.”

  I studied the last two people. “Which leaves Yahn and Alucard…” Mallory nodded.

  “I can take care of them if you are unsuccessful.” I opened my mouth to tell him that he should just take care of it himself, then, rather than me risking failure. He shook his head, reading my thoughts. “You should try. Get used to this ability of yours. I have a feeling it will be important later, if you really are what your parents thought you were. The Catalyst. A Manling born in Fae. There has to be a reason for that…”

  I sighed, seeing the truth in it. “So be it,” I muttered.

  In short order, everyone was ready. I stepped out of the cave, eyes focused inwards, not acknowledging the gestures I received from my friends. They didn’t shoot me friendly looks, but respectful nods. They weren’t privy to everything that had gone on recently, but had heard enough to have questions. Knowing that pushing me too far here was a bad idea, they let it go. But I knew their questions would drown me once the dust settled.

  If we didn’t scare the hell out of everyone when we returned to Chateau Falco so quickly.

  I stood entirely still, staring out at the night, and took a deep breath, beginning to reach out to Wylde for assistance. He responded tentatively, not wanting to give up his place at home. I realized something for the first time. I wasn’t temporarily taking him back, away from his home. I had literally returned to Fae, told him he had been missing from my soul for decades, and then basically commanded him to come back home to a strange new world.

  Like inviting Tarzan to live in the city, where people like him were supposed to live. Except… I needed his help to accomplish it.

  “We aren’t finished, here…” I said out loud. The others shared looks, not speaking, but wondering if I was addressing anyone in particular. “But it’s time to—”

  Grimm slammed into the earth beside me, wobbling on his hooves and bleeding from several arrows embedded in his side. “Enemies approach,” he wheezed, growling in both pain and anger. He wasn’t down for the count, but he was injured.

  My friends fanned out on instinct, not even waiting for my command, and I heard Pegasus screaming in the distant skies. We stared, and I pulled deep through Wylde, only to realize I was chuckling darkly under my breath. I wasn’t sure if that was me or Wylde.

  Or both.

  “Help me, Wylde. We are the same,” I murmured, closing my eyes. My mind was silent for a time, and then I heard a very deep, dark chuckle slowly building up from deep within. And power washed over me, filling me to the brim, the land speaking to me, begging to be used. I opened my eyes just as a line of monsters stepped into view about a hundred yards away. I spotted several flyers circling above fighting Pegasus, archers filling the air with bone arrows.

  The creatures before us were a mix of every sort imaginable. But one thing set me to grinding my teeth. Every single one of them that leaned more towards human wore armor made of bark, vines, and foliage.

  Hatchetmen – who worked directly for the Queens.

  I shot a cold look at Mallory.

  He returned the glare, shaking his head. “Oberon wouldn’t betray us. Especially not so soon. And we had the horses scouting the skies. They would have seen something.”

  Grimm growled, obviously in pain, but stubbornly ignoring it. “Not Oberon…”

  I continued staring at Mallory for a long moment. “Heal Grimm,” I finally said. He nodded, and set to work immediately. I wasn’t angry with Mallory, but I was considering consequences for my next decision. The Queens had arrived, and looked to have brought enough warriors to do the trick, unlike the last couple times when they had underestimated me.

  I cleared my throat, catching everyone’s attention as the army began to advance with bellows of outrage, hunger, and fury. Horns filled the air, but I shouted over them, somehow still sounding like a dark whisper. “I think it’s time they met some St. Louis monsters. Agreed?”

  Wulfra and Wulfric howled, a truly bloodcurdling sound, but I don’t know how I heard it over my laughter. Wulfra tugged her Nemean Lion Cloak on, set
ting the hood over her head so that it looked like she was erupting out of the lion’s open mouth.

  I glanced at Mallory, arching a brow. He was finished, and Grimm looked right as rain. “You allowed to play? Because I intend to make this night memorable…”

  In response, Mallory suddenly exploded into his ten-foot-tall form – a goat-legged man-creature with spiraling horns on either side of his head. Pan, the Wild God. “For this, I’ll make an exception,” he growled. “Consequences be damned.” Then he lifted a set of pipes to his lips, and began to toot that motherfucker.

  With an explosion of glass, Yahn abruptly shifted into his dragon form, and launched up into the sky with a shriek that faintly sounded like toe-tah-leeee! Yahn reached his peak, directly between the army and the moon, and sudden spears of white fire hissed into the front lines like lasers, ripping dozens in half.

  I blinked, realizing that Yahn hadn’t actively done anything. The spears had been formed from the moonlight shining through his body, but instead of rainbows, they created laser arrows of murder.

  Toe-tah-lee cool, I thought to myself.

  I shot a look at Grimm and Talon, reminding them of their earlier interest in catching those tiny rainbows. They looked suddenly apprehensive, lips tight. I grinned, and then turned back to the army, waiting.

  “Disco Ball of death!” Yahn roared, and then hurtled himself towards the enemy flyers pestering Pegasus.

  I turned to Alucard, grinning expectantly. He met my eyes for a few seconds, and I remembered our conversation on the roof. That single look let me know he was ready to cut loose. Sure, he had accepted his beast, but until this moment, he hadn’t fully given in, fearing what it would make him. I smiled encouragingly, murmuring a single word with only my lips.

  Reds…

  His eyes flashed, throbbing with golden light, and wings exploded from out of his tattered robes, slicing through the purple grass around him, where it burned to ashes in an instant, leaving him in a smoldering crater, the smoke rising up to meet him. Then he smiled, and his fangs dripped molten gold, hissing and smoking where it struck the ground at his feet. Then he turned to the oncoming horde, flexing his fingers, which suddenly erupted into inches-long golden claws. Streamers of smoke drifted from their tips, literally hot enough to melt the freaking air.