“Well, is everyone all right?” Dimitri asked as his gaze scanned the area. Kendra did her best to look stalwart but was also seemingly affected by the travel. Her hand glowed with shimmering gold light where it rested on her chest. Faro downed a large bottle of teal liquid, shoved it into his knapsack, and retrieved a flask from his coat and took a sip from it. “Is that something to take the edge off?”
“Gin, to get the taste out of my mouth,” he responded and took another quick sip. “I’m not much of a drinker but it does the quickest job. I have yet to find a way to make my potions have a pleasant taste.”
“And you use alcohol for taste?” Nemo asked.
He nodded and put the flask away. “It is surprisingly more effective than soda or juice.”
“Thank God it didn’t get to the point of you using acetone.” The necromancer chuckled, stretched his massive arms, and looked around. “Right, then. Shall we get started?”
Rika, finally past her initial nausea, had to commend Chatan on his work. When she studied the area, it appeared they stood on a road or large dirt path. Behind them, a field of grass shifted gently as the night air passed through. Directly ahead were dense woods with large trees, many dead but some still holding on although not in good shape.
Chatan placed his hands against one of them. “This whole area is choked by something quite foul.”
Dimitri and Kendra joined him and the cleric frowned. “This location feels more ill than some demonic nests I’ve destroyed. Has the Govan Forest always been like this?”
“It is considered a Zemi by some cults and organizations,” Dimitri responded and squinted at a rune etched into the side of one of the trees. “A place where many mages and mystics find their powers are renewed or strengthened, although it’s one of the weaker ones I’ve come across. It has always had a rather foreboding presence but nothing like this.”
“I can’t say it feels all that abnormal to me,” Nemo commented, folded his arms, and peered into the forest.
“I would assume not, necromancer,” Kendra muttered to him.
He frowned and threw his arms up. “Seriously? Don’t tell me we’re going to do that.”
“What?” she asked.
He took a few steps closer to her. “The whole ‘holy knight mistrusts the dark arts guy’ thing. I was sick of it before I reached my teens.”
“I had no intention of that. You are here to hunt and that is all,” she responded and placed a hand casually on the hilt of her blade. “I merely inferred that a place of haunted magic such as this wouldn’t be all that uncommon for you.”
“Maybe not, but he’s a dark arts guy too,” the necromancer said and pointed at Dimitri. “And even he said this place feels off. I didn’t hear you mention that.”
“Well, true,” she admitted and focused on the older gentleman. “But that had more to do with, well…I’m not sure what a shadowcrafter is.”
Rika joined the others who checked the trees for more runes or spells. She was kind of relieved she wasn’t the only one.
Dimitri offered a laugh and rested his hands on his cane. “It was a rather antiqued skillset even when I began learning it, so it does not surprise me. I run into the question quite often.”
“I guess now is as good a time as any,” Nemo mused and looked at the other members of the group. “We know names and all that, but what exactly can all of you do? If things go tits-up, I need to know who not to get in front of in case I get caught in their blast.”
“That is certainly true.” The older man smoothed the hairs around his salt and pepper goatee. “You won’t have to worry about that from me. My magic allows me to create constructs of beings I have absorbed the essences of—essentially creating familiars in layman’s terms.” He felt in his pocket and withdrew several jagged pieces of metal. “I can also briefly recreate objects assuming I have a focal point from the original item.” Rika saw black mist sprout from the metal and took the shape of throwing knives. “Nothing too fancy. Don’t expect my services to help recreate any legendary weapon you might have your eye on.”
“I was getting my hopes up for a moment.” Faro grinned and tapped his satchel. “Well, I am an alchemist. I prefer to use my art for practical application but I was trained for combat and hunts as well. I suppose if you fear ‘getting caught in a blast,’ I would be the one to worry about.” He removed a jar from his bag, and Rika’s eyes widened when a string of light sparked and darted about within. “I am not that much good at traditional spellcraft, but I have been able to use my talents to mix potions and recreate spells that I contain in these vessels. You shouldn’t have to worry too much. Their radius isn’t that big.”
“What the hell is this thing?” Nemo asked and stooped to study it. He backed away when the light surged toward him but was stopped by the jar.
“Well, lightning in a bottle of course,” the man said and beamed as he put it in the satchel.
“Dork” sprang to Rika’s mind and her eyebrow raised as a blade slid from under the leather wrap around his wrist. “I have a couple of traditional weapons I can coat with certain tonics and oils for specific purposes, but melee fighting is not a strong suit.”
“I can handle that,” Kendra interjected. “I am trained in many weapons and prefer the sword. I was an acolyte in the apostle order.”
“Really now? I suppose that makes you the most official among us,” Dimitri mused.
“Hardly. I am a hunter, not a templar now,” she pointed out. “I can use holy magic for healing to a minor degree. I am trained for combat, however, and most of my powers are focused on that.”
“It probably makes you the most useful given the situation,” Faro pointed out.
“I hope to be but considering how twisted this place seems to be… Most holy knights or mages won’t admit this, but darkness can snuff out the light.”
“I can see why you didn’t make it to templar,” Nemo joked and earned a glare from the cleric although she didn’t reply.
She turned to Chatan instead. “I believe that our shaman friend will be the most useful one here, assuming I understand the nature of your kind.”
He moved away from the tree, his eyes closed in thought. “As a shaman, I am attuned to nature, even in a place like this. I would say that I can act as a guide for us until we find the ritual site.”
“So your power is navigation?” Faro asked
The shaman opened one eye and looked at the alchemist. “I have the ability to commune with the elements and bend and shape them to my needs. But I am not an elementalist who is able to conjure their elements. I can only work with what is around me.”
“Oh, I see. Of course. No offense meant,” Faro responded and backed away.
“I guess I’m up,” Rika stated, opened her hand, and let fire pool around it. “Fire magic is my specialty. I have a few more general tricks—small illusions, levitation, things like that.”
“I thought I heard you say you were a cabalist?” Kendra questioned.
Rika peeked at Chatan. “That was…spur of the moment, really. I also have disenchantment magic. It lets me break through illusions and shut down certain schools of magic. Most people find that more interesting than fireballs.”
“Well, it is rather intriguing, you must admit,” Dimitri pointed out. “I have met many pyromancers and elementalists in my time, but disenchantment magic is a much more difficult and rare discipline.”
She snuffed her flame. “Yay for being special then.” She folded her arms and looked at Nemo. “What about you, then? From what you were telling me, you are a necromancer but aren’t at the same time?”
“Yeah, I guess that could use some explaining,” he admitted and drew his shotgun, a solid weapon with black barrels and an ashen-gray stock. Rika noticed a silver emblem of a skull with a fractured head on the butt of the gun. “I guess it is easiest to say I am more like a necro-smith, I guess? I don’t raise the dead, but I do make guns. Knives and swords sometimes too. More importantly,
I make the ammo.” He fiddled in a box attached to his belt and removed a bullet. Faro and Dimitri stared with curiosity while Kendra and Rika startled in confusion. The body of it was transparent with some kind of dark liquid inside. When he shook it, odd slivers floated around inside it. “Bullets do different things. Some turn to fire while others make a fog. My normal bullets are made of bone.”
“What? Why?” Kendra asked.
“It’s easier to put etchings on them,” he explained and replaced the ammunition carefully. “That’s where the necromancy comes in. I was taught what different parts help to make certain spells work and how to apply what I learned to skeletons and all that. I simply did my own thing with the knowledge.”
“It sounds rather like alchemy,” Faro observed.
“There’s some overlap. Many disciplines have that, but it’s a pain in the ass if you don’t know what you’re doing,” he warned, flipped his weapon, and aimed it in the air. “Like I said, I make my guns myself. The only thing better than making the kill is doing it with something you made, and to top that, using the parts of what you killed to make it.”
“Do you think you have anything in your arsenal that will help here?” Rika asked. “I guess you focus on specters and beasts like I do, but my fire burns a hell of a lot more than only that.”
“And a bullet is a bullet.” Nemo chuckled and returned his shotgun to the holster on his back. “It will still make a hole even if we’re fighting demons, cultists, chupacabras, whatever.”
“I think a chupacabra would be classified as a beast,” Faro interjected and received sullen stares from Nemo and Rika.
“Yeah, spit-balling, dude.”
Behind them, a loud blast of wind ripped leaves from the line of trees and a chill went through the group. A low moan issued from inside, followed by a rapid screech that sounded almost like a laugh.
“Well then, I suppose we are all caught up.” Dimitri spun toward the forest and adjusted his hat that had been blown to one side. “Shall we begin now?”
“I’ll lead,” Chatan offered, his eyes closed once more. “It is very faint but I do sense something that differs from the darkness that is consuming this forest. I would imagine that is where our target lies, but I cannot be sure until we get closer.”
“Then let’s move,” Kendra stated and drew a silver blade with a white handle wrapped in a red cloth. “I would suggest we be on our guard.”
“Agreed.” Nemo drew a pistol from inside his jacket. “Let’s agree that when shit goes down, we get out of each other’s way, yeah?”
Rika produced a small amount of flame to give them light and a hint. “That’s probably for the best.”
Chapter Eight
The team of hunters made their way through the forest. Rika burned a few of the runes along the way. Faro poured some kind of clear liquid onto others that not only cleared the etchings but seemed to pry off some of the wood along with them.
“It’s really damn quiet,” Nemo muttered. Rika had to agree. They had been walking through the forest for about ten minutes now. Besides the noises they had heard before walking in, the only sounds now were the foliage beneath them and the wind occasionally picking up.
“Didn’t the woman say there are illusions in here?” Kendra asked, a small amount of light coming off her blade. “Could we have already been trapped?”
“Nah. Chatan doesn’t fall for things like that,” Nemo promised, although his voice faltered when the shaman didn’t respond. “You do have this, right, Chatan?”
“I’m fine, thank you, Nemo,” he replied, his steps slowing. “I do feel the other force. Deeper in, it strengthens, but I’m beginning to believe that may as well be it actually gaining further power as much as us getting closer.”
“You wouldn’t happen to be feeling anything that could be coming to eat us would you?” Rika asked, looking around at the seemingly never-ending darkness surrounding them.
“I have not felt any other presence besides… Wait.” The shaman stopped, letting both arms fall to his sides. He looked down and scanned the forest floor.
“What is it?” Faro asked, checking the ground himself. “Feel something?”
“No, but as I’m sure all of you can agree, that is the problem.” He held a hand up. The wind kicked up once more and flowed in his direction. He waved his hand and the wind swept along the ground, knocked away all the foliage, and revealed several large holes.
“Whoa, we’re lucky to have not fallen into any of them,” Faro noted.
“I made sure to lead us through a path where we wouldn’t but I’m beginning to think what if the runes along the trees are not the only ones to worry about?” Chatan questioned.
“You think there are some underground?” Rika asked. “I mean, they wouldn’t be very effective. Most runes need anchors or ley lines to function without someone maintaining it.”
“Perhaps, but as the shadowcrafter said, this forest is a zemi—a place of focused magic. Even the ground could be steeped in it, and it wouldn’t take much to apply simple runes—ones to silence and ones to hide.”
“Not to mention the guy who took over the Deja was a warlock, right?” Nemo pointed out. “Blood magic is kind of their thing. Blood has got a lot of power, take it from me.”
“Indeed.” Chatan scanned the trees. “Rika, may I borrow some of your flame? I cannot control fire as deftly as you probably can.”
She nodded and expanded the size of the fiery orb she carried. “Sure, what do you need?”
He pointed to the top of the trees. “Send a little light there. Be careful not to burn the leaves.”
The warning was easy enough to accomplish as there weren’t too many to burn up top, and she let the orb fly to one of the branches. She felt uneasy when she saw a rune of a spiral-like figure within two inverted triangular shapes etched into the bark of the tree and caked with blood. She recognized it—a dampening rune meant to obscure oneself, a favorite among rogues and thieves.
“Aw, hell, could they have been here all along?” Nemo muttered and looked around, his pistol at the ready.
Dimitri began to speak but stopped and focused on a tree behind Rika and Chatan. He retrieved several pieces of metal and threw them up. They formed into shadowy knives and disappeared into the dark and a few seconds later, a small red body collapsed behind Rika.
She jumped back and gaped at the small, thin red corpse with three taloned fingers on each hand and tiny curved legs that ended with three clawed toes. Its head was gaunt and small nubs dotted the top. One of its eyes was partially closed and the eyes showed as a faded yellow. “It’s a feral imp,” she said as the daggers that had pierced it dissipated and the shards used to make them turned to rust and broke apart.
“Imps stay together in packs,” Kendra noted, planted her sword in the ground, and knelt beside her. She ran a hand over the corpse and noted deep gashes in the creature. “This one was wounded even before Dimitri struck. It was running from something.”
Faro joined them to examine the wounds. “These cuts aren’t like any beast I am aware of in the area. Not to mention it wasn’t meant to be fatal.”
“Something was playing with it?” Rika asked.
“It seems to be, or simply wasn’t afraid of a prolonged fight. Anyone and anything knows that a single imp can be trouble on its own, but it is always near a pack. You should take it out in one strike or retreat.” He slid the blade from his leather strap and peeled the wound back. “It’s jagged, and there are flecks of something in there.”
“Of what?” Kendra asked as he withdrew his blade and took something off the tip.
He studied it and Rika lowered the orb of flame for him to examine it more clearly. “It appears to be…bone?”
“Bone? From its ribs?” she asked.
“No, the wound wasn’t deep enough to shave or break the ribs. It came from the attacker, which would indicate…” His words faltered and his eyes widened as he dropped the speck of bone. “Oh, dear.�
�
“Agh!” The group looked away from the corpse to where Dimitri and Nemo struggled with something that seemed to remain at ground level. Clawed hands grasped their ankles and yanked them toward the forest floor.
The necromancer began to fire his pistol directly down. One of the arms released and he forced himself back as a loud crack followed. He had regained much of his freedom, but the hand still held tightly to his ankle.
“Evony!” Dimitri shouted and drove his cane into the soil. A swirl of purple and black light coursed down it and into the forest floor. As it struck, the earth ripped apart and a giant panther-like creature burst out with the chest of something clenched in its mouth.
The victim looked like a person dressed in dark robes and pants and Rika identified the Deja cult symbol on the back of the garment. Its arms were skeletal and curved at the fingers like talons. The animal was forced to let it go when the being slashed into its face. The cult member fell and rolled but made no effort to fight the motion before it finally stopped, facing up. It raised both hands, curved them at a frightening angle, and bent them back to place them on the ground and push itself up.
It hobbled forward, its head obscured by the hood of the robe. Slowly, it lifted its head to look at the group from a skeletal face. The entire appearance of it was odd like the flesh was still there but folded in and tuned to bone. It had etchings along its brow and its teeth had been sharpened.
“A ghoul,” Faro said, his voice almost a whisper as he slid his hand into his satchel.
From above, two more dropped without warning. The soil rumbled beneath Rika and she shoved Kendra and Faro out of the way as more hands emerged to snatch them. When they missed, the owners of the arms forced themselves from the dirt and glared balefully at the hunters.
“Not only a ghoul,” she muttered and let the flames course over her body as Faro gathered himself. Kendra surged light along her blade, and Chatan began to warp the wood of the trees around him. “Many, many ghouls.”
Chapter Nine
Magic Hunters: The Operatives Page 4