Druid Master

by M. D. Massey

  Time to stealth-shift.

  As I quickly made the transition from fully human to human-looking with Fomorian bones and muscle underneath, I considered the situation I faced. The problem here was that I was about to enter a yōkai’s home uninvited. Yōkai were, more or less, Japanese fae, so it paid to have a healthy respect for their boundaries. Maeve’s house was a prime example; even without the thing being connected to a steady flow of Underhill’s magic, I’d hesitate to enter there without first being welcomed.

  Better play it safe and make myself known.

  I rapped on the door a few times, calling out to announce my presence. “Hello? Hideie, it’s Colin. You there?”

  Great. If someone’s lying in wait, I just tipped them off to my presence.

  I waited several seconds, but no one answered, and nothing stirred inside. Eventually curiosity won out over caution, and I stood off to the side as I pushed open the door, sword at the ready. No fireballs or other nasty spells came barreling out at me, so I took a peek within.

  Hmm… everything looks to be in order.

  Hideie’s place was an amalgam of Japanese and Western decor. His living room was a typical industrial-modern affair, with stained and scored concrete floors, a funky coffee table made from a converted drafting desk, a gray upholstered sectional, and some mid-century modern cantilevered armchairs. The area was lit by a chandelier fashioned from iron plumbing pipe, suitably patinaed and fitted with old-fashioned bulbs that let off a soft-orange steampunk glow.

  Beyond was the kitchen, open to the rest of the flat, with stainless-steel appliances and concrete counters. And off to the left behind sliding shoji doors sat his tearoom, complete with traditional tatami mats, a low serving table, and floor cushions. Finally, his sleeping area was situated above the kitchen, in an open loft bordered by railing made from thick iron plumbing pipe, again patinaed to match the chandelier.

  Modern art and ancient artifacts decorated the place in a spare, almost utilitarian style. A set of armor here, a Jackson Pollack there, a few katana and yari on the walls—it was what you might expect from a 3,000-ish-year-old tengu who lived with one taloned foot in the past, and another in the present. Since the place seemed to be in good repair, clean, lived in, and not tossed by unwanted visitors, I stepped across the threshold into the flat.

  Immediately, every spell I’d cast on myself was washed away by a magic disspellment field. Feeling very naked without any concealing magic on my person, I instinctually crouched in a ready stance, scanning the environment for threats. Then the door slammed shut behind me, and I felt the “whoomp” of containment wards slamming into place, sealing off the apartment from the outside world.

  Great.

  I felt a door to another place—a dimension, realm, etcetera—open behind me, just before I sensed an attack. I ducked and rolled, covering my eyes as I triggered one of my standard instacast spells, a flash-bang cantrip that was certain to blind whatever or whoever had attacked me.

  Rolling to my right again on instinct as I opened my eyes, I caught a blur of movement behind me that was more a distortion in the air than anything. Then, there was a flash of polished steel, so quick anyone with mundane senses would’ve missed it. Sparks flew from the floor precisely where I’d crouched a moment before, and small chips of concrete shot from the impact point in multiple directions.

  Obviously, I was being hunted by something that could conceal itself, which could be anything. I wasn’t about to wait until I puzzled out what it was before I dealt with it, but I also wanted to take caution to ensure I didn’t accidentally kill my swordmaster or one of his guests. It was his place, after all, and for all I knew it might be him attacking me as some sort of test for the old kōhai—namely, me.

  Better safe than sorry, I suppose.

  Rather than use one of my newly improved and highly dangerous killing spells, I instead hit the shimmering distortion with a blast of highly compressed air. Not Mogh’s Scythe, mind you—as I said, I wasn’t ready to kill just yet. This was simply a kinetic blast, kind of like punching someone with a giant fist. It worked, apparently, as I heard an “oomph” and someone or something hit the wall with a crunch.

  Not one to let up when I had the upper hand, I followed that up with a water spell that drew the moisture from the air and channeled it at a target. Normally, you used something like that to put out fires and whatnot, but I was hoping to use it to reveal my attacker’s outline more fully. I followed that by sucking the heat out of the surrounding air, instantly freezing the water they’d been drenched with a moment prior.

  Unfortunately, my opponent’s concealment magic must’ve included their clothing, because my druidic magic failed to make them any more visible than they had been before. However, apparently that didn’t extend to their sword, as I could now see the faint outline of a katana’s edge, covered in frost. It was slashing right at me.

  I could barely see the sword’s edge, as there was just enough frost along the blade to make it visible in the low, sodium-like light of Hideie’s apartment. But it was enough. As the blade flashed down diagonally, I stepped in with an overhead block that deflected the sword while bringing me inside to grappling range.

  Staying on the outside in a sword fight where you can barely see the opponent’s weapon was suicide, which was why I got close enough to grab whoever was attacking me. If I knew where the blade was, then I knew where the attacker’s hands were, which meant I could disarm them. As I stepped in I body-checked the attacker, noting that they were shorter and much slighter in build than me. This was definitely not Hideie.

  I let go of Dyrnwyn with my left hand, freeing it to wrap my arm around those of the assailant. At this range they couldn’t cut me, not unless I allowed them to step back, which was exactly what I didn’t plan to do. Once I had them locked into a clumsy but effective double armlock, I punched them in the face—or at least where I thought their face might be—three times, using Dyrnwyn’s hilt as a fist load.

  Punching someone with a longsword in your hand is a lot harder than it sounds, as the weight of the blade throws off your punch considerably. However, the weight also lends a lot of force to your strikes, so if you can manage it, the attack can be brutal. I was using my Fomorian strength to amplify the strikes, so it was no surprise when I felt the crunch of cartilage and the wet warmth of blood under my knuckles.

  My opponent cursed in Japanese, and in a voice I recognized—Mei’s voice. Mei was a jorōgumo, a deadly breed of yōkai who could shift forms from that of a beautiful young woman to a giant spider. Knowing who my attacker was afforded me the freedom to kill her, as Mei was a thoroughly evil being.

  I readied Mogh’s Scythe, fully intending to cut her in half at close range, but a thought niggled at the back of my mind that stayed my attack. Strangely, Dyrnwyn didn’t light up when we clashed blades. The sword was enchanted to burst into white-hot fire when in the presence of evil, yet it had no such reaction to Mei.

  My hesitation cost me precious milliseconds that I should not have spared. One moment I held on to a petite but invisible female, and the next I was being pinned to the floor by the forelegs of a spider that was the size of a Volkswagen Beetle. That giant spider had Mei’s face where its mouth would normally be, a feature so grotesque that it turned my stomach.

  The porcelain skin she possessed in her human form was now discolored into sick purplish and yellow hues and dotted with fine hair that matched that found on her body and legs. Her jaw was split to accommodate a set of large mandibles ending in black fangs that dripped venom. Finally, in addition to a pair of large, black orbs where her normal human eyes would be, she possessed several smaller versions that dotted her cheeks and forehead.

  Even worse, she stank of rot and death.

  I was strong in this form, but I’d been caught off guard and didn’t have leverage on my side. Plus, she held her body—or cephalothorax and abdomen, take your pick—too high to kick her off me. As I struggled, I noticed her tail end drop
just slightly, and a line of silk began to drift from her spinnerets.

  Aw, fuck.

  Thankfully, I still had that spell readied, and while she did have my arms pinned at the wrists, I could gesture enough to release it. Just as I was about to chop a couple of her legs off so I could escape, I heard Hideie’s voice coming from above.

  “Yame,” he said in Japanese. Stop.

  “Me, or her?” I asked.

  “Both, actually,” he replied as he descended the stairs from his loft with his hands behind his back.

  He was in his human form, else he might have flapped his wings and fluttered down. Then again, the air disturbance would likely blow that Pollack off the wall, which was probably why he chose to walk. Anyway, I preferred him this way. Hideie’s half-bird, half-human form was almost as disconcerting as Mei’s current state, especially the way his overly large raven’s eyes stared a hole right through you. In his human form, however, he looked like nothing more than a fit middle-aged Japanese businessman.

  Nope, definitely better in human form.

  Hideie flicked his hand, and Mei scuttled away, shifting into her human form. Of course, she was completely naked, and while her body possessed near-perfect proportions, it distracted me little, if at all. Knowing she could change into a hideous, human-faced spider the size of a small truck removed any and all sexual interest I might have felt for her current state otherwise. Just the thought of her shifting mid-coitus to envenomate some poor dude made me shiver internally.

  I watched her carefully as I sat up, taking some small satisfaction as she wiped blood from the corner of her mouth. “So, you mind telling me what this was all about?” I asked, addressing my sword master directly.

  “Training,” he said matter-of-factly, softening the “r” slightly in his Japanese accent. “Believe me when I say you will need it, Colin-san.”

  “Okay… I agree that I can always use more training. But why Mei?”

  Mei exhaled sharply in exasperation. “Obviously, he’s preparing you to fight—”

  Hideie raised a finger, and she stopped mid-sentence. It was the smallest gesture possible, yet he may as well have chided her like a child considering how she reacted. The were-spider hung her head in deference, her cheeks coloring slightly as her eyes burned with cold fire—at me, I might add.

  “Hey, don’t look at me like that,” I said as I picked myself up off the floor. “I’m the one with the beef, not you.”

  “That was a job, and nothing more,” she replied. “I personally hold no ill-will toward you.”

  “No, you’re just pissed that your superior embarrassed you in front of someone you hold in low regard. I don’t really get Japanese culture, but I can read a room.” I frowned at Hideie. “Can I assume we’re going to do this again? And that she’s going to take her frustrations out on me?”

  He gave an almost imperceptible nod. “If you have time to spar today, then yes.”

  “In fact, I could stand to vent some frustration myself,” I said as I leaned on Dyrnwyn’s pommel. “But if you don’t mind, can you make Mei glamour up some clothing or something?”

  Over the course of the next hour, Mei did indeed make it a point to take out her anger on me, making me pay for my smart mouth during our initial matches. And while I did manage to come out on top in our final rounds, I discovered that fighting a giant spider that possessed human intelligence was a lot harder than Samwise Gamgee made it look. And when she shifted into a form that was halfway between human and spider, I nearly lost my cookies.

  Ninety minutes later, Mei bowed to Hideie, following that with a curt nod in my direction.

  “Thank you for your assistance today, Mei,” my sensei said.

  “Dou itashimasite,” she said, bowing again.

  “Good match,” I added. “And let’s do it again, oh, say never.”

  “Never will be too soon, druid,” she replied coolly before exiting the apartment.

  Once the door had shut, Hideie ushered me toward his side room for tea, as his living room furniture had been trashed during our sparring session. He didn’t seem to care, and I was pretty certain he’d fix it with magic after I’d gone, but I still felt bad nonetheless. My tea ceremony etiquette was almost as bad as my Japanese, so I begged a reprieve on grounds that I didn’t want to offend my host.

  “You should learn chadō,” he said as we sipped tea Western-style at his breakfast counter. “I think you’d find the meditative aspects to be beneficial. You are too uptight, and you worry too much.”

  “Later, when I’m not being hunted by a couple of crazy Celtic goddesses,” I said. “So long as you don’t make me learn from Mei. I have a feeling she’d spike my tea with venom.”

  “That she might.” He chuckled, taking a sip of tea and setting his cup down with care on the counter. “You must understand, though, Mei isn’t a bad person. She merely is what she was made to be.”

  “A predator,” I observed. “One that preys on humans.”

  “True. But is the lion evil when it kills man, or simply acting the part it was given?”

  “Lions don’t possess faculties of higher reasoning,” I countered. “And we still put them down when they become man-killers.”

  “Hmm,” was his reply. “You will face a great battle soon.”

  I sipped my tea before answering, holding it in my hands after to enjoy the warmth. “Are you merely making an observation based on facts, or are you speaking as a quasi-god who possesses certain prophetic powers?”

  “Both, actually,” he replied with a curt, grim smile. “It has been some time since I had a student worth teaching. I would prefer it if that student stayed on this side of the Veil.”

  “Said student would definitely prefer to remain among the living. However, I can’t keep running from them. Right now, the only thing keeping Badb and Fuamnach at bay is that I’m either always on the move, or I’m hidden where they can’t find me.”

  “And what if you hid there until they lost interest?”

  “Fat chance of that, Sensei. Besides, by the time that happened, everyone and everything I love would be gone. What the goddesses didn’t destroy would be ravaged by time. Heck, I might return to a world I didn’t even recognize.”

  Hideie sipped his tea as he stared out the window. “I can only say that I understand from the perspective of guessing what it must be like to be mortal. But, for my part, I do sympathize with your need for resolution in this matter.”

  “They already came after my girlfriend, and Badb was directly responsible for Finn’s death. I can’t let it stand, Hideie-sama. And I’m not going to spend the rest of my life looking over my shoulder, either.”

  “A matter of honor, then. That, I understand.”

  “Thank you. For the record, any advice you might give me would be greatly appreciated.”

  The tengu sat very still for a long while before speaking, as was his habit. Finally, he sipped his tea and looked at me. “It would be wise to choose the place of battle, so you may have every advantage possible. Also choose your allies wisely, assigning them tasks that best utilize their strengths while avoiding exploitation of their weaknesses.”

  “I mostly just want to keep my friends away from the fight,” I admitted. “Losing another friend is something I don’t think I can take.”

  Hideie clucked his tongue at me. “Pfah. If you wish to achieve victory, you must discard such sentiments. Think like a general, Colin-san, moving your pieces on the goban to entrap your enemy while gaining the upper hand on the field of battle.”

  “I would’ve used a chess analogy, but I get your meaning.”

  “In chess, you lose too many pieces before deciding a victor.”

  “Huh. Never thought about it that way.”

  He sipped his tea, staring at me unblinkingly. “Then perhaps you should take up go as well as tea ceremony.”

  “I will, sensei. But first, I’ll have to master the art of staying alive.”

  13

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nbsp; After leaving Hideie’s, I returned to the Grove for a quick bath and change of clothes, then I pulled out the strange book Finnegas had left me. I ran my hands across the worn leather cover, tracing the embossed design—an oak drawn with lines woven together in the Celtic knotwork style. Whether it was a journal or grimoire, its contents were completely inaccessible to me, as the protective wards were way too complex for me to decipher.

  Why would you leave me a book I can’t even open, old man?

  Considering the oak tree on the cover, I’d thought that by bringing it here to the Grove, I might unlock the wards. Obviously, I’d been mistaken, and I was at a loss regarding how I might access whatever knowledge or information might be hidden within. Simple logic indicated that it was an insurance policy that Finnegas had set up in case of his untimely demise.

  More mystery surrounded the book than just the contents. For one, I found it interesting that he’d told Mom about it, and not Maureen. He had made it a point to tell me to go see my mother—in fact, it was the last thing he told me to do. Maybe Mom knew how to open it? If she did, she hadn’t mentioned it.

  Finnegas always had very good reasons for the things he did, and I had no doubt the solution to this enigma would be revealed in time. Thus far, the only person I hadn’t approached for answers was Maeve. Being who she was—the Celtic goddess Niamh—she was the most likely person to help me decode the wards.

  But could I really trust her? The bottom line was—well, I didn’t know the bottom line with Maeve. She’d always been a bit of an enigma herself, and hell if I knew whether she was fully on my side. Oscar seemed to think she was, and as I recall, he was a bit salty about it when he mentioned it.

  Time to put on my big boy undies and go see the queen.

  As was my habit lately, I kitted myself out for war, then I had the Oak drop me off inside Maeve’s garden. The condition of her house and grounds had always reflected her current level of magical power, and while the place looked better than it had on my last visit, it was still looking a bit timeworn. Since I’d blocked off the gateways to Underhill and essentially locked down the main source of her magic, things had not gone well for Maeve and her court.