A World Darkly (Wrath of the Old Gods Book 3)

by John Triptych

  Johnson sighed. He thought this whole thing was a wild goose chase. “As far as I know, the front lines against the Aztecs are nonexistent ever since they pushed into Dallas. We might even be behind enemy lines, nobody from the government has reported in this area.”

  Ethan continued to stare out into the distance. “I wouldn’t worry too much. Based on the last reports I got, I doubt we’ll be encountering any Aztec war parties.”

  “What makes you so sure?”

  Ethan rubbed the stubble on his chin. He needed a shave. “Just the way they operate. Every time they conquer something, they take a lot of prisoners and bring them back to their cities for feasting and sacrifices. The ancient Aztecs didn’t conquer and hold territory, they would have their neighbors swear fealty to them and exact tribute. The ones who resisted would have their people taken as war booty and sacrificed. I don’t think the Aztecs want to come to this part of country either.”

  “Why not? Why wouldn’t they annex this area? There’s hardly anybody here to stop them,” Johnson said.

  “You answered your own question,” Ethan said. “There’s nobody here for them to take captive. This place has their own guardians.”

  Johnson stared at him. “What do you mean by that?”

  “There was one report that stood out when I did research on this area,” Ethan said. “After the Glooming, there were rumors of skin walkers being encountered here, you know, the people who could change their shapes, as well as other strange phenomena. There were no reports of Aztec encounters at all, it was as if they were avoiding the whole state with the exception of the large population centers like Albuquerque. I used to be part of an archaeological dig near Santa Fe, and I heard about an old man who lives near here. Many of the locals believe he’s a sorcerer of some kind.”

  Johnson exhaled loudly. “Wait a minute, are you saying we went all the way here just to find some old Indian who you think is some sort of magic man?”

  Ethan nodded. “Yup, that’s exactly why we’re here.”

  Johnson looked away. “You’re as crazy as that Professor Dane was. I thought he was completely off his rocker, then I saw him bring in a demon that got the president back to us. In all my years in the bureau, I thought I had seen everything.”

  “I can sympathize with you. I saw the video too,” Ethan said. “After the secretary of defense personally recruited me into this task force, everything’s got a whole lot weirder. I studied under Dr. Dane and took many courses with him. I even served as his graduate assistant for a few months when I worked on my master’s thesis.”

  Johnson ran a gloved hand along his close-cropped, curly hair. “So what do you think this old Indian is gonna do for us? I’ve followed hundreds of leads in the past few months and we’re no closer to finding a cure for the president, nor do we have any idea as to what happened with the professor and Detective Mendoza.”

  “I know you think this is just another lead to follow up,” Ethan said. “I really think this old man can help us. We’ve gone through a lot of so-called people claiming that they’re wizards and all that and we pretty much concluded that they were fakes, but I think this guy is the real thing.”

  “What makes you so sure this guy isn’t a fake like the others we already interviewed?”

  Ethan smirked. “Just a hunch. That’s all I can say.”

  Johnson rolled his eyes. Nobody saw it since he was wearing sunglasses. “We’ll I hope we find him soon, I got another half dozen so-called magicians to follow up with when we get back east—”

  The female FBI agent pointed near the summit of the mountain. “Up there! I spotted someone.”

  Johnson pulled out a pair of binoculars from his khaki hunting vest and started to scan the mountain. “Yeah, I think there’s someone up there alright.”

  Ethan took out his backpack that had been sitting in the backseat of the SUV. “Yeah, he’s right were they said he would be. He must be meditating up on that mountain. I’m going up there to meet him, you guys stay here.”

  “Wait,” Johnson said. “You’re a highly valued asset on this task force, I can’t let you go up there without an armed escort.”

  Ethan started making his way up the base of the mountain. “As I recall, Secretary Arctor said I was in charge of this team, right? I’m ordering you all to stay here and do not attempt to shoot at him. I’m just going up there for a little chat.”

  Johnson muttered a cruse under his breath as he watched the younger man make his way up the dusty slope.

  It wasn’t a hard climb, but by the time Ethan had made it to where the old man was, night had already fallen. The old man was sitting cross-legged near the mouth of a small, shallow cave. He wore an old buttoned shirt and faded jeans. His long, silvery hair was tied back in a pony tail. Deep wrinkles crisscrossed his brown face. The old man seemed to be asleep as his eyes were closed. There was a small ring of stones a few feet in front of him.

  Ethan sat down opposite to him. He wasn’t quite sure if it was the right thing to do to call out the old man. Perhaps it was better to wait. Ethan had thought about loudly clearing his throat to make him notice, then decided not to because it might just piss the guy off.

  After what seemed to be a long time, the old man opened his eyes and stared at him. “Welcome, Ethan Quinn. You had come a long way just to find me. I am called El Brujo.”

  Ethan smiled slightly. Brujo was Spanish for shaman or sorcerer. The fact that the old man knew his name was a good sign. “El Brujo is it? I have come here on behalf of the government of the United States. We need your help.”

  El Brujo smiled. His yellow teeth had large gaps in between them. “At last, the leaders of our nation have begun to realize the danger we are all in. I have already instructed the Chosen One in the ways of knowledge and power. If there is one who can help, then it will be her.”

  Ethan’s eyes narrowed. “I’m sorry, the Chosen One? Who is this person?”

  “Some of you may still consider her as a child,” El Brujo said. “She was chosen by the trickster and she was able to thwart the rebirth of Okeus with the help of her friends, of course.”

  Ethan vaguely remembered the names on the transcript in which the demon Dantalion had described a young girl who had helped save Manhattan. He tried to remember the exact name. It was on the tip of his tongue. “Sarah? Or was it Lara?”

  El Brujo made a short laugh. “Her name is Tara.”

  Ethan nodded. Now he remembered. “Right, Tara Weiss. That was her name. Sorry about that. Where can I find her?”

  El Brujo didn’t answer. For a long while they just stared at each other in the twilit darkness. Then Ethan heard a flapping of wings and a raven landed on a small boulder nearby. The young archeologist wondered why a bird like that would suddenly just land right beside them, then he recalled what the old man had just said.

  Ethan turned and stared at the bird. “Are you Raven, the trickster god?”

  The little black bird shifted its head from side to side. “Oh, I like this guy, he catches on quick.”

  Ethan’s heart jumped but he was somehow able to keep his composure. “You are the trickster, aren’t you?”

  “More or less,” the raven said. “Now what do you want?”

  Ethan shifted his sitting position so he was able to look at both the bird and the old man without having to twist his torso. “I’ll get right to the point. El Brujo here told me to find Tara Weiss. She is the key to helping us out. So could you tell me where she’s at?”

  “She’s indisposed,” the raven said. “She has come to realize the fate of her brother and she is in mourning.”

  “Is there maybe a way I can talk to her?” Ethan said. “The country is in a really bad state right now and we desperately need her help.”

  “The bird just told you she’s depressed right now,” a low, guttural voice that came from the shallow cave said. “Can’t you take a hint?”

  Ethan squinted his eyes as he stared into the darkened cave. Somethi
ng man-like walked out and stood behind the old shaman. It was tall and lanky, with long sinewy arms that ended in razor sharp claws. Its skin was deathly white with rugged leathery ridges. A creature with glowing red eyes stared back at him. Ethan was able to control his fear as he continued to sit, but beads of sweat began to form on his forehead despite the cold night.

  Patrick Gyle stayed near the edge of the cave. He was fairly certain the armed men below couldn’t see him at this angle. “What government agency are you with?”

  Ethan’s mouth trembled for a bit before he was able to fully calm down. His response came a minute later. “Officially, we’re part of the Department of Defense. Our unofficial name is Task Force Omega. We’ve been tasked to find a way to deal with these pagan gods and demons that have now manifested themselves. I’m Ethan Quinn, by the way.”

  “El Brujo said your name already,” Gyle said. “Tara needs some time to grieve. She searched for her brother for a long time and it’s been only recently that she found out he was dead. I need some time to talk to her.”

  Ethan looked down on the sandy ground. “I’m sorry to hear that. I hope she feels better soon.”

  Gyle crouched down. “So what’s the sitrep?”

  Ethan sensed that this pale thing that was talking to him might be named in the transcript report as well, but because his mind was racing in every direction, he couldn’t come up with the exact information. Might as well answer its questions and maybe I can find out later who he is, he thought. “The Aztecs broke though our lines and US Army North has taken a lot of casualties. The enemy hasn’t exploited the situation because we believe they are still sacrificing those captives that they took, and so the front is quiet once more. If they come at us again then we have no defense. We tried to nuke them, but each and every delivery system has failed to detonate against them. It’s just a personal theory of mine, but I think the Aztec gods can somehow prevent nuclear chain reactions from happening.”

  Gyle nodded. “So we’re almost at the endgame then. If we don’t do something to stop them now, we’re done for.”

  Ethan nodded. “That’s about it.”

  “They must have a weakness,” Gyle mused. “There must be a way to bring the fight over to them, or at least, get them to the negotiating table and stop this war.”

  “There’s another problem,” Ethan said. “My former mentor, Dr. Paul Dane, was able to rescue the president from the Kansas separatists, but now the commander in chief has been possessed by some sort of malevolent spirit. Dr. Dane was able to conjure up a demon and this monster took him away. We don’t know if he’s alive or dead, and I think he’s the only one who can cure the president.”

  “I have heard whispers of Paul Dane amongst the spirits,” El Brujo said. “A good man, and one who has the knowledge on how to proceed.”

  Gyle turned and looked at the black bird sitting on a rock. “Do you know where this Dr. Dane is?”

  “Yeah,” the raven said. “He was exiled to the Planes of Punishment for awhile, but his girlfriend saved him. I think they are now traveling across the Styx to hook up with your old friend, Atrahasis.”

  Despite his fatigue, Ethan’s eyes were wide open. First he met a real life shaman, then a talking bird who could very well be a god, then some sort of demon-like creature came into the scene, and now they were talking about the man who had survived the great deluge and of other worlds. He felt like a kid in a candy store. He had so many questions, but he knew he had to stay focused with the task at hand. “So Dr. Dane is alive? That’s great news! Is there anything I or the government can do to help you guys?”

  Gyle turned and looked at Ethan. “Where is the president now?”

  “He’s being cared for at Camp David,” Ethan said.

  Gyle crossed his arms as he contemplated the next bit. “Okay, I’ll go get Tara and we’ll head over to Atrahasis. From there, we’ll get to Dr. Dane and his girlfriend and let them know about the president.”

  “I can set up a helicopter convoy if you’ll let me know where the meet up point is,” Ethan said.

  Gyle shook his head. “We don’t need that. Just get back to Camp David and let them know we’re coming. I don’t want to have to fight my way through all those surprised guards.”

  “Okay, you got it,” Ethan said to him before turning to face the raven. “If I could ask, why did you decide to help us?”

  The raven ran its beak along its feathered torso. “A number of reasons, I guess. One of them is that I don’t like all the gods bullying humanity like this. I prefer to join in with the underdogs because it’s more fun that way. I also like Tara. I think she’s charmingly naïve at times, but she’s also a very strong girl. The best reason of all is I’m just bored.”

  “Not all the other gods are against us,” El Brujo said. “The Great Spirit has made an alliance with Ahone and the Master of Breath. The three of them have vowed to resist the attempts by the Lords of the Night to venture any further into their sacred lands. The spirits have told me that another shaman is to be chosen, but he is in the flooded lands and has yet to find his spirit guide. It might be worthwhile to seek this man out, for the gods have told me he is the key in defeating the Aztec plans of conquest.”

  Gyle looked at the old shaman. “Does he have a name?”

  El Brujo looked out into the night. “The spirits haven’t told me his name. I suspect it is because he has not yet completed his first journey. The Master of Breath watches over him. The spirits say that he must be taken to the Hall of the Slain, where he is to meet a boy from across the seas. This boy has the missing piece that can bring about an enormous change against the Aztecs.”

  Gyle looked confused. “Hall of the Slain?”

  “That’s another word for Valhalla,” Ethan said. “This boy he must meet should be there if I heard this right.”

  “You are correct,” El Brujo said.

  Gyle looked at the bird again. “Valhalla? Isn’t that where we left Atrahasis the last time?”

  “No, Atrahasis is in Dilmun,” the raven said. “Valhalla is getting kinda crowded too. That young kid El Brujo was talking about brought a lot of people over there.”

  “Okay,” Gyle said. “So how do we get this other shaman into Valhalla then?”

  “You don’t,” El Brujo said. “We must not interfere with his journey. He must make the choice to accept his spirit guide and see through the mists of time. Only if he chooses his fate will he be able to journey into the Spirit World and into the halls of Valhalla.”

  “What if he chooses not to be a shaman?” Ethan asked.

  “Then things could get really complicated,” the raven said. “But I’ll see what I can do.”

  “So we have to depend on a guy who may or may not do the right thing, only he doesn’t know the stakes involved,” Gyle said. “And we can’t directly influence him. Why can’t things just be simple?”

  The raven looked up at him. “They can be, but where’s the fun in that?”

  Gyle snorted in disgust. “Somehow I can feel that this is all just fun and games to you, Trickster. I can see why Tara is pissed off at you.”

  The raven said nothing. The people at the base of the mountain began pointing their flashlights near where they were meeting. Ethan’s walkie-talkie started to squawk. The young archeologist realized he was supposed to check in with the ground team below every two hours, but the conversation they were having was so fascinating that he had forgotten about the time.

  Ethan slowly got up and stretched his legs. “Okay, I think I got the picture. I’ll get down this mountain before my FBI escort decides to make their way up here.” He looked at Gyle. “I forgot to ask your name.”

  Gyle kept near the mouth of the cave so the roving flashlights wouldn’t notice him. “It’s Patrick Gyle. I’m sure they have a file on me.”

  “Okay, got it. See you guys soon. Goodbye,” Ethan said as he turned around and started walking down the winding path. He had a feeling most of the people in the
task force wouldn’t believe what he had just heard, but he needed to do his best to convince them otherwise.

  The cold desert wind whipped through her hair as she stood near the dried riverbed. She had stopped crying hours ago. She looked up and saw the desert moon as it illuminated the night sky, and wondered if there was anything she could have done differently. Then she looked down at where the upturned van was. Over a year had passed and it was still there. It had been Larry’s van until it was taken by that renegade cop Josh. She had been a passenger and had traveled with them. She watched them both die. She wanted to return to this spot for a reason. This was where she finally made the conscious decision to try and save the country from the supernatural forces destroying it. The trickster had been her spirit guide ever since they met at that deserted strip mall back in Phoenix. She couldn’t help but relive the past choices she made, which ultimately led up to this.

  Tara Weiss let out a deep breath as she stared at the swaying grass. When she realized her little brother was dead, she couldn’t get over her grief. Timmy was the one person she cared about, and now he was gone. Not long after they left Kansas, she felt an inner rage growing inside of her. She wanted to lash out, use everything in her power to kill those responsible for Timmy’s death. She wanted to personally kill her dad and then use a rock to pound Charles Eason’s face in. Her feelings would shift from unbearable sadness to white hot anger in a matter of seconds. She demanded that the raven bring her back to Phoenix so she could kill her father, but then changed her mind a few seconds later. That was when she realized she needed to be alone, so she asked the trickster to transport her back to the grasslands, where the van was.

  Her stomach started to growl but Tara ignored it. Time flowed differently in the spirit lands and she never felt hungry or fatigued when she was over there. The moment she came back to the real world, she felt like she needed to sleep the whole day and her stomach was ravenous. A part of her figured it might be better off to just go back to the Otherworlds and stay there for good. Timmy was gone and she had no real reason for living on earth any longer.