White Mountain Rising (Veil Knights Book 7)

by Rowan Casey

  White Mountain Rising

  Rowan Casey

  Contents

  Series Summary

  Veil Knights Newsletter

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Veil Knights Newsletter

  The Veil Knights Series

  About the Author

  Copyright Information

  In book one of the Veil Knights series, THE CIRCLE GATHERS, stage magician and sorcerer extraordinaire Dante Grimm brings ten strangers together, informing them that they are the living avatars of the original Veil Knights, brave men and women reincarnated many times through the millennia, most recently as the Knights of the Round Table, who pledged their lives to protect mankind from supernatural threats and enemies.

  In the distant past, the Veil Knights had combined the power of several arcane talismans into the Caeg Dimmre, the Key of Wickedness, which was used to construct a mystical barrier between our world and the Demimonde, preventing the supernatural races that inhabited the realms on the other side from continuing to ravage our humanity. The talismans were then split apart and hidden away in the far corners of the earth, there to remain until the time should come when they might be needed once more.

  That time is now.

  The Veil is falling, weakened by age and the machinations of those on the other side. Grimm knows that unless the pieces of the Caeg Dimmre are brought together again, the Veil will fail entirely, releasing the darkness that it has kept locked away for so long.

  In desperation, Grimm convinces the knights to assume their mantles once more, to undertake the quests necessary to bring the pieces of the Key back together so that they can be used to strengthen and reinforce the Veil.

  These are their stories.

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  1

  Hannah

  She tasted gravel and blood.

  The teenaged black girl was sprawled on the driveway beside her home; a group home where she and her tormentors were kept in the dim hope of redemption. Hannah had several thoughts about the possibility of the others surviving this encounter to be reunited with their families. Pictures flooded her mind, shoving aside the bright bursts of colorful pain, then she imagined the three girls in handcuffs, or better yet, gunned down in a drive-by that would never be solved. It made her smile to imagine the trio lying in untidy heaps, their pain worse than her own, and their prospects cut down.

  Originally, she walked out of their home in order to get some snacks, but they followed her out and surrounded her just beyond the home’s property line, their guardians technically no longer able to interfere with their business. There were three of them: a heavyweight; a large, acne-scared girl with long, stringy hair; and one with a long, jagged scar on her right cheek. Hannah tried to avoid them whenever possible. Today that wasn’t going to happen.

  “We’re going to the 7-11 and grab some things,” the heavyweight said. She was Charlene, the latest arrival on the girls’ wing, and already climbing to the top of the social order. Hannah just wanted to be left alone but Charlene had it in her head that the girls had to band together and carry out her commands. Through cajoling, false offers of friendships, and sheer intimidation, most of the others acquiesced. They showed their solidarity with the bully by doing her bidding, which usually involved some act of shoplifting or giving the bulk of their allowance to her. To date, Hannah resisted signing on but knew enough not to rat Charlene out to the people running the home. In their eyes, Charlene was loud and obnoxious but followed the schedule, did her chores, and was almost a model resident.

  With increasing frequency, though, Charlene was making it clear that Hannah had to submit to her authority. This invitation to the convenience store was clearly her latest initiation offer, a chance to steal a few packages of Ho Hos or whatever, and show her loyalty. Charlene was a force of nature, a year or so younger than Hannah, and she made her presence known from the day she arrived. Scuttlebutt on the floor was that Charlene punched out her teacher or principal and tried to take out two police officers when they arrived to break things up. Further, she was said to be undefeated one-on-one.

  Of course, that didn’t explain why she needed Precious, she of the stingy-hair, and Yaamini, the pretty one, as her backup.

  “No thanks,” Hannah said and tried to keep walking in the opposite direction. That’s when she felt the hands shove her from behind and send her tumbling to the sidewalk.

  Now, she was rising on one knee and figuring out what her options were. Her mind whirled and clicked and suddenly she burst forward, fingers spread and curled, her finely sharpened fingernails ready to tear flesh. Instead, Charlene grabbed Hannah’s left hand and yanked her off-balance.

  With an audible snarl of rage, Hannah threw herself at the bigger girl once more, hoping momentum would give her an advantage. It might have helped, but she was thrown off course by a sharp elbow in the ribs courtesy of Precious, followed by a harsh kick from Yaamini.

  These three had taken her on just days earlier and that time one of the boys, she couldn’t remember his name through the red haze of hatred, came to her rescue. Now, it was a street brawl, exacerbated by the hot, humid weather.

  Hannah scrambled up the three brick steps to the stoop of the house adjacent to their home, climbed up to the iron fence and threw herself at the girls, determined to take them down and use their bodies for cushioning. It was impulsive, reckless, and dangerous, the very words she had heard time and again through the years. Those words sealed her fate and consigned her to the home, where she had resided the last few years. Those tendencies didn’t vanish while living there, but were smothered under rules and regulations, never treated.

  Her small, compact form sailed through the air and only nailed one of the girls, Precious. They tumbled to the sidewalk and rolled, arms and legs twisting around one another. Hannah ached from the awkward landing and rolling about but at least the other two were not interfering. Hannah landed two quick punches to Precious’ temple, stunning her enough to allow her to untangle herself and regain her footing.

  Charlene and Yaamini both looked at her with utter contempt and not a trace of fear. This fight would end with someone in the hospital or jail or both.

  Before the beating could commence, a large, imposing figure loomed over them from out of nowhere. He scanned the four figures until his eyes locked on Hannah, whose mind was now filled with countless questions and a desperate wish that he wasn’t a police detective.

  “Hannah Price?”

  His voice was cultured, smooth, and deep, with a tone that meant he was not to be messed with.

  She merely nodded while the others edged away, seeking a chance to bolt.

  “Excellent. Join me inside, please. We have some business to conduct.”

  2

  Daniel

  For the last week, Daniel’s eyes burned. And the things he was seeing were making him question his sanity.

  Ever since he was a child, he was seeing things no one else could perceive. Sometimes it was just a hazy color silhouette around a person or the occasional object. Through the years, he was also occasionally able to figure out a pattern to the color, matching things like a green aura to envy or a yellow stripe down the back to fear or cowardice. These conclusion
s, he once thought, would allow him to safely navigate among his peers or adults. His odd ability seemed better with adults, maybe because they were fully formed. But when he was certain they were lying to him, without the aura to confirm it, he was proven wrong often enough that he had come to doubt himself.

  Other times, he pictured living things but didn't recognize any of them. When he described them to his parents, they told his then eight-year-old self that he was growing too old for imaginary “friends.” When he drew them in art class, his teachers admired his creativity but then reported their concerns to his parents about the gruesome creatures he was drawing, likening them to the works of Hieronymus Bosch.

  As he grew older he was seeing more colors and images and thought he was going crazy. He was taken for battery after battery of tests and no doctor, neurologist, or psychologist could come up with any explanation for why he was seeing things, what they meant, and how to help him.

  Inwardly, he chuckled that they knew nothing and would be beside themselves if they knew what he had been seeing. Everywhere he went - inside the group home, at the arcade or movie theater or just on the street - he saw cute fuzzy things that could audition for roles on the Care Bears cartoon or creatures that could earn Academy Awards for special effects. Many wandered freely, others were clinging to people walking past him who were oblivious to the presence of these things.

  The increasing clarity and frequency of the sightings was deeply troubling to the teen. He was beginning to doubt his sanity or long-term prospects of something resembling a normal life.

  A day before, for example, he spotted a short, squat, hairy thing walking between two buildings, hugging the shadows. It wore only a loincloth and seemed to be looking for something without being seen. As Daniel studied the creature, the likes of which he had never seen before, it looked up and then at him. The creatures before this moment never acknowledged him or were even aware of his presence. This one, though, looked at him and gave him a respectful tilt of the head, a welcoming gesture. He shuddered, blinked, and the thing was gone.

  Shaking his head, Daniel decided he was definitely slipping towards the precipice of madness and was scared. He decided to retreat to the confines of his room where he knew what he would find; wanting comfort from the familiar. He entered the group home and was surprised to see a large man talking to the attendant on duty, handing over some papers. Beside him, looking smaller than ever and uncertain was Hannah, the girl he had saved from a beating just a few days earlier. Was she in trouble?

  The man noticed Daniel’s arrival, nodded in his direction in a direct imitation of the thing he had seen, and said, “You must be Daniel. Good, I can explain things to you both just once.”

  Daniel shot Hannah a questioning glance and got a shrug from her. His instincts said it had something do with the fight. Looking at the man, he saw a soft white glow about him - something reassuring and pure with no hint of deceit. That surprised him.

  What he heard next was completely beyond his imagination.

  3

  Hannah

  It felt like a waking dream.

  She’d never flown on an airplane before, but now she was onboard a gleaming 767 for her second trip in as many days. The mysterious stranger who interrupted her beating was a man named Hautdesert. He arrived at her group home on East 51st a day before and somehow arranged for her and another resident, a boy she barely knew, Daniel Montgomery, to be allowed out for an overnight visit. Getting away from the home, away from its oppressive rules and the mean girls had enough of an appeal that she bit her tongue and saved her questions until the three were heading down the block toward a waiting taxi. Hautdesert gave them ten minutes to pack their belongings for the overnight visit. What the man never told the administrators was that the mini-break involved being flown clear across the country for a secret meeting. The two teenagers asked variations on the same set of questions since getting into the cab and heading for JFK Airport. He seemed unflappable, merely telling them that it wasn’t his place and all would be explained at the meeting. Clearly, he wasn’t going to spill anything nor was he the guy in charge. That made Hannah curious and just a touch nervous.

  Hannah had to admit the jet’s seating was tight; but for her tiny frame, it was fine. Hautdesert, with his heavy build, and Daniel, far taller than she was, seemed to have more trouble getting comfortable. Her companions let her have the window seat and she spent most of the flight gazing out the window, seeing clouds up close and personal and studying the flat farmland of varying shades of brown and green arranged like a game board, snow-capped mountains, and even the Great Lakes. Despite seeing these in movies and on television and learning some geography in school, it was another thing entirely to witness them for herself. America the Beautiful, indeed.

  Daniel leaned close to her shoulder throughout the trip, also observing the countryside, keeping his thoughts to himself. Hautdesert slept. The airplane snacks were mediocre but food was fuel to her right then, keeping her awake as the sun stayed in the sky despite her internal clock saying it was getting late.

  The trio was met outside the terminal by a stretch limousine and within it sat Dante Grimm, an illusionist she had never heard of. Daniel recognized him, having watched an HBO special about him some time back. Hannah was totally unaware of his minor celebrity and was therefore less impressed. Still, she’d never ridden in a limo so that were two firsts for the day. She sat, her back opposite the driver, and happily accepted the bottle of water and even grabbed some nuts from a crystal dish. Grimm greeted them warmly and, once settled in the car, began the most astounding tale she had ever heard in her life.

  Then they had arrived at his club, Avalon, and met the others. And the creature that attacked them.

  Had she really wielded a sword?

  Somehow, it was the arrival of the Horned Demon – a minor demon as Grimm called it – that convinced her that he was not bullshitting any of them. There was no way he could conjure up an illusion that smelled so foul. They were – somehow – reincarnations of the legendary Knights of the Round Table. Everything he told them in the limo now rang as true within her chest, sending her mind spinning. He called it activating them, she called it weird. A wave of warmth radiated from her heart down each limb, and her stomach did a little flip. She was no taller or smarter than she was before, but deep within, she felt a sense of purpose that wasn’t there before. A sense of belonging that she had been craving her entire life finally felt sated. She stole a glance at Daniel, who was looking down at his open hands and seemed to be feeling something as well.

  Grimm, and the gorgeous woman he introduced as Marilyn LeVay, needed their help in keeping this thing, this Veil, from cracking apart and bringing Hell to Earth. If the Horned Demon was a taste of things to come, she was determined to do her part and protect others from this evil. Each had been assigned a task and being the youngest two, she and Daniel were partnered. That brought her only a tiny measure of comfort because everything else sounded insane.

  “And if we don’t agree?” he asked Grimm.

  Grimm shrugged.

  “If you don’t agree, and the Veil falls, life on Earth will resemble one of those post-apocalyptic movies that are so popular right now, except a thousand times worse. Is that really what you want to leave as your legacy?”

  She had never thought about leaving anything behind let alone a legacy. She had high school graduation and hopefully college as her only real goals. A legacy sounded substantial, like stepping on the moon or discovering penicillin. Saving the world certainly sounded like a far better legacy than failing to do her part.

  “Fuck it, I’m in,” said Jessie, the wicked fast fighter. Hannah thought that she spoke for her, if not for all of them.

  There was the initiation ceremony, which felt weird and smelled weirder, and suddenly she couldn’t keep her eyes open anymore. When she awoke, Hautdesert, whose heavy jaw stubbornly retained its stubble, handed her some fresh clothes – where they came from was neve
r stated – and fed a rich, tasty breakfast.

  And just like that, they were whisked back to the airport and the big man accompanied them once more to Brooklyn.

  The teens were quiet on the return trip and less than forty-eight hours after Hautdesert collected them, the teens were back at the home. Once more in familiar, worn surroundings, it all felt like a very odd, possibly drug-induced dream. And yet, Hannah felt different. She was looking at the world with new eyes, a feeling of urgency swelling within. There was a quest, an honest to god quest, and if Grimm was right, the fate of the world depended on them.

  Why me? was a question that continued to run around again and again in her mind as it had since Grimm first spoke in the limo. Which side of her family did the knighthood descend? Her absentee father or drugged-out mother? She giggled at the notion of her mother and Uncle Tyshaun being of royal descent, however many times removed from an actual knighthood. And if the knights were English, who knocked up a black woman to pass it along? This train of thought was replaced by Why Daniel and me?” Who is he to me now? Partner? Intended lover? Comrade-in-arms? The questions raced around her mind, keeping her from speaking often, and even then only in brief snatches. If they were to be successful, she needed to get her shit together and focus.

  She stood before the entrance to the home on East 51st Street, the sun dipping behind the brownstones, the air cooling. Beside her, towering over her, was Daniel, a boy she barely knew before her just-ended outing with “Uncle” Hautdesert. They shuffled their feet awkwardly, neither one speaking, both watching the broadly built figure disappear around the corner onto Church Street.