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Fire and Fantasy: a Limited Edition Collection of Epic and Urban Fantasy

Page 4

by CK Dawn


  All that was left to do was change the frequency in the electricity. Lourdie giggled. Abbey was going to be so surprised when they got back from Porthleven. The kid’s very own stun baton complete with pink lightning.

  “Lourdie, we’re supposed to be a couple on an evening walk in Central Park. So get over here and give your lean mean Hawaiian machine some lovin’,” Ryan Kapoi teased, thickening his Polynesian accent.

  “Yeah, yeah. Keep your Spam in the can.” Lourdie was still reeling from Marcus’s decision to send her away. She worried her emotions were all over the place. “I thought I saw something,” Lourdie said still looking out in the distance.

  Kapoi’s levity abandoned, the ex-marine stiffened at Lourdie’s side. “What is it?” he asked, gripping the black object in his hand and methodically taking in their environment. To a layman, Kapoi was simply holding a flashlight when in reality, his stun gun was one fingerprint scan away from being activated.

  “You’re not going to believe me, but I thought I saw a darter,” Lourdie whispered.

  Kapoi relaxed, “You’re right, I don’t believe you. A darter, here? No way. What did it look like?”

  “Tinker Bell!” She slugged him in the arm. “What do you think it looked like?” she said in her snarkiest tone. “It looked just like our banishing orbs only the size of a nickel. And it was moving fast. Really fast.”

  “Your eyes must be playing tricks on you. The Vaelosh a’Rue don’t just appear on earth for no reason. There won’t even be any fractures in the Chiarshadrin tonight,” Kapoi said pointing at the waxing crescent moon rising in the sky. “So, no netherwalkers for them to even worry about. Besides, seeing a darter is pretty rare. They just don’t leave the flux. Right?”

  “You’re right,” she rubbed her eyes. “My eyes must have been playing tricks on me.” She lied. This hadn’t been her first sighting. Her darter sightings started about a year ago, shortly after she began mentoring Abbey. There has to be a meaning behind it, she thought to herself. At first it seemed random, only occurring occasionally during a full moon. Now, no matter what phase the moon was in, she was able to see a darter darting across the sky from time to time. She wondered if the elders of the Vaelosh a‘Rue would appear and warn the courts of heightened netherwalker activity. The last uprising hadn’t been since King Arthur’s battle against the Nevra-Hsi Mordred. If a krim, a Nevra-Hsi’s pet, can be described as letting a tiger out of its cage, then a Nevra-Hsi on earth would be the equivalent of unleashing the Black Death that devastated Europe in The Dark Ages. A single Hsi on earth would be bad, very bad. King Arthur was able to destroy Mordred and his army of netherwalkers, but was mortally wounded himself. The once and future King was laid to rest by the darter elder, Vivien, the Lady of the Lake. The netherwalker uprising and the death of the earth’s protector caused the formation of the King’s Court, under the advisement of the Vaelosh a’Rue. For over a thousand years the King’s Court had protected the earth from netherwalkers and kept the secret of the link between worlds.

  Lourdie thought back to the fantastic stories her parents had told her at bedtime about King Arthur and his Knights. Their stories of the infamous darter elder Merlin and his antics had been her favorites though. What a magical time that would have been to live in. “Do you ever wonder why darters don’t take a more active role in helping us guard earth from netherwalkers?” Lourdie whispered taking Kapoi’s arm and resuming their walk.

  “Did you sleep through your history classes?” Kapoi laughed. “They monitor netherworld fracture activity from the flux. They stay neutral unless the balance is threatened. So, unless an extreme amount of shadowskins billow through or somehow a Hsi finds a way to start a massive kill party and won’t leave, I doubt they will ever get involved. Besides, the flux is their realm, the earth is ours to protect. They did give us some killer gear though, right Tita?” he said using his favorite Hawaiian term of endearment and playing with the metal dog tag relics around his neck.

  Besides her darter sighting, their eight hour night patrol had been completely uneventful. Lourdie and Kapoi hadn’t spotted a single netherwalker, which wasn’t surprising, considering the full moon was weeks away. That’s when the hunters would be out in full force waiting for fracture activity and the shadows that would try to sneak to earth.

  Still sporting his Marine Corps haircut, Kapoi put on a skull cap to keep warm. The nightly air was starting to chill more and more. Winter would be upon them soon.

  “Come on, Marine, it’s your turn to buy,” Lourdie shivered, nodding to the end of the street.

  The guardians ducked into their favorite place for a hearty breakfast before the sun came up. Phil’s Diner was their local hangout owned by a court sleeper and his family.

  Phil had gone through the gloaming bond in his forties, but had decided to remain in civilian life as a sleeper, as they were commonly referred, and live a relatively normal life. The bond allowed sleepers and King’s Court members to recognize each other as guardians. There were sleepers in all walks of normal life, from college professors to police officers, and strategic professions like doctors and politicians. Phil quietly opened his doors extra early in the mornings so his fellow hunters could wind down from the hunt and not be disturbed by the ears of the unknowing.

  The man was a six foot four skyscraper of muscle and tattoos who had never met anyone that could best him in a fight, until the night he met Kapoi tracking a netherwalker. Phil had been in the wrong place at the wrong time and was caught in the crossfire between the hunter and a krimvigo. The mottled scars from the krim’s spittle were permanently etched into the man’s neck and all the way down his elaborate arm tattoo. Three claw marks were also streaked across the ink on his forearm. He was lucky he hadn’t lost his arm, or his life.

  Phil’s bald head glistened under the fluorescent bulbs as he greeted the two early morning hunters. “Hey, Macchiato, I just got in some of your creamer. And, I’m thinking I’ll make you an egg white omelet with spinach, tomatoes, garlic, little bit of feta on top, and a big side of fresh strawberries and blueberries drizzled with a touch of honey.” Lourdie’s growling stomach was audible as he described her feast.

  “Thanks, Phil, you’re the best,” Lourdie said taking her usual seat.

  “Hey what about me, braddah?” Kapoi asked slipping into the booth.

  “You? You’ll eat anything. And you’ll eat anything I give you and like it!” Phil said hovering over Kapoi with a stoic sneer. “Just kidding, brother. I’ve got a dry-aged T-bone steak and eggs with your name written all over it.”

  “Aw, Phil.” Kapoi slapped his friend on the back.

  “I know, I know. I’m the best,” he walked away laughing in his big booming voice.

  What Phil didn’t tell most guardians about the night he met Kapoi was how he had punched the damn krimvigo square in the jaw after protecting his face from the creature’s claws. Which, in turn, was how he got all the scars from the netherwalker’s saliva in the first place. Kapoi’s weapon was still charging when Phil saw the chase go down and decided to intervene and help the poor fellow who was defending himself from what Phil thought was a crazed, stray zoo animal. After Kapoi finally banished the krim, the two men got to know each other as Phil recovered from the incredible sight of the netherwalker’s disappearance. The two had a huge laugh about how it took a super strength creature from another world to finally best Phil. He liked to joke about how he used to only be a biker, a bouncer, and a badass before that night. And now he was still all three of those things but with a dame, a daughter, and a diner in tow. He marked the night as one of the best in his life. After all, it was also the night he met a doctor from something called the King’s Court. She happened to be a sleeper and now she also happened to be his dame.

  “Seriously, you dared a rookie to go through a fracture, and they actually tried it?” Kapoi laughed so hard he began choking on his food.

  Lourdie giggled, “Yeah, can you believe it?” The dare had become
a rite of passage from mentor to apprentice, but no one expected an apprentice to actually try and enter a fracture. The prank was usually revealed at the last minute. Most Initiates knew what happened if they tried to enter a fracture, but a select few either forgot, faltered under peer pressure, or thought they were the exception to the rule. Lourdie knew her current apprentice was a cut above the rest the moment she had met the young girl. When push came to shove, Abbey punched back. A fracture was barely visible on their first patrol together and Lourdie dared the young apprentice to enter it. Abbey simply turned to her mentor and said, ‘After you, Sensei.’ And the two had been inseparable ever since.

  “What happened to him?” Phil asked, pouring Kapoi a glass of water.

  “He got knocked back about thirty feet as soon as he touched it.” Lourdie shrugged and gave her most innocent smile, “What? He was only unconscious for a couple of hours.”

  “Remind me to never get on your bad side. You could make boot camp look like daycare,” Kapoi said, still choking through laughter. “What did the guy do to piss you off so bad?”

  “He hit on me,” Lourdie stared Kapoi down over their empty plates.

  Kapoi gulped so loud it could be measured in decibels. The fifties style diner became eerily quiet as Phil punched in a new set of songs into the jukebox.

  “Just kidding. Relax,” Lourdie giggled. “I’d never hurt my lean mean Hawaiian machine.” It was true, Lourdie had found an immediate kinship with the marine when they met three years ago. They were both hunters through and through. Kapoi was as dedicated to the King’s Court as he was to the Corps. She would put up with a little harmless flirting from him any day, but she enjoyed keeping him on his toes. “Come on soldier, I wanna get in a work out before I hit the rack. I promised Abbey a shopping extravaganza before the European assignment and you know I can only hold her off for so long. I’m going to need all the strength I can get,” she laughed again.

  “Shopping?” Kapoi scoffed. “I’d rather have you throw me against a fracture.”

  Phil waved goodbye to his fellow guardians, “Speaking of Abbey, bring the munchkin with you next time would ya, Macchiato? She needs a little more meat on her bones before her last trial. Tell her I’ve got Belgian waffles with peanut butter and bananas waiting for her.”

  “Will do, Phil.” Lourdie gave him a warm smile as Kapoi and Phil nodded to each other in mutual adoration and respect.

  The hunters left the diner as the colors of the morning sun began to streak the sky.

  Two

  Guardian Molding

  “I can’t believe you volunteered for more hunter field training. Are you crazy?” Abbey scolded Malcolm as they walked down the street to school.

  “Dude! Better to volunteer and get Kapoi, then be voluntold I have Bane.”

  Malcolm had a point. There was something ominous and scary about the brooding Russian Bane. Abbey just didn’t want Malcolm getting hurt anymore. He was an archivist with brainpower, not a hunter with firepower.

  “And!” Malcolm said, knocking on his cast. “Kapoi’s going to teach me how to drive a stick when this thing comes off. My parents would just be too nervous and, well, it’s not cool to cruise around with your parents.”

  “Oh yeah, I keep forgetting you’ll be sixteen soon.” Omg! Am I ever going to grow up? I swear I’m frozen in time. It totally sucks watching everyone else grow up! Abbey looked up at her tall nerd and sighed. “Come here, let me fix you. I don’t want them calling you Disheveled Daniels anymore.”

  “It beats Malcolm in the Muddle. Dude! Sometimes I wish I were a transfer or a foreign exchange student. It’s so hard to live down the whole mud pie rap I got in first grade.”

  Abbey giggled and got on her tiptoes to tighten Malcolm’s blue and white plaid tie, then tucked his white shirt collar back under his way too large navy blazer. He had been borrowing his Dad’s old academy blazer ever since his training accident. It was about three sizes too big but allowed his cast to fit under the sleeve quite nicely. She brushed his cat’s orange fur off the jacket’s embroidered school crest and laughed. “Amelia really needs to find somewhere else to sleep.”

  Malcolm pushed his glasses back up his nose. “Earhart can land wherever she likes,” he said giving a little nervous laugh. “Well, how do I look?”

  His khaki pants were a bit wrinkled, but there was nothing she could do about them. “I swear a shadowskin could take one look at you and know you weren’t a hunter, you bookworm!” she got on her tiptoes once more and tousled his overgrown brown curly mop of hair, “There. My turn, how do I look?” She spun around once then cocked her head to the side.

  “Perfectly coiffed and ironed as usual, runt!” Malcolm was too slow in dodging her jab to his uninjured forearm. He grunted. “Uncle, uncle! Dude. Why am I picking a fight with a hunter? You’ve been trained to kill me with your bare hands,” he said, smacking himself in the forehead.

  Abbey’s uniform was an exact replica of all the boys’, except her house mom, Nola, had pin tucked the blazer to make it look more feminine and her look taller and curvier. Nola was always doing little things like that to boost her confidence. Abbey could have opted to wear a khaki skirt like most the girls, but it didn’t allow her thin Kevlar body armor to remain hidden. She nestled into the superhero feel the under armor gave her and giggled to herself. Mild mannered student by day, uber hunter by night. The pants also allowed her to wear the steampunk leather boots that hid her stun gun while off duty. Her house mom had even cut a slit in the seam, held together with Velcro, for easy access to her weapon. Abbey had told Nola about Lourdie’s silent stingers and her house mom had come up with the ingenious idea of hiding a few in her academy tie once they were ready. As tribute to her Victorian chic house mom, Abbey had been sporting steampunk fashions more and more over the past year, and even started to learn how to retrofit a lot of the gear and clothing herself. Abbey would describe herself as more of a modern day steampunk rather than the Victorian style one usually associated with the genre. Abbey couldn’t picture herself ever being able to don the leather corsets and lace and ruffle blouses that highlighted Nola’s fabulous wardrobe, but she had found that long sleeve Henleys or soft off the shoulder sweaters achieved a similar feel. Paired with her utility purse that draped across her hips like a belt, she enjoyed using the phrase ‘urban steam’ to describe her look. Abbey sighed as she thought about the beautiful corsets in Nola’s collection. Maybe someday, if my boobs ever show up! Abbey’s crowning achievement had been her knee high leather strap and buckle boots. She had altered them to house her weapon and even had hidden compartments in the two inch heels for survival items like a magnesium fire starter and water purification tablets. The boots fit her like a second skin, and they gave her an extra two inches in height, which she thoroughly enjoyed. She did, however, want to alter her style a bit before her trip to Great Britain. Steam Punk was fabulous, but she wanted a bit more typical teenage appearance. She would hit her mentor up for the shopping trip soon. There was no way Lourdie was going to get out of their planned excursion. Abbey had the perfect store in mind, it was like it was beckoning her.

  “Dude! I still can’t believe you get to go to the UK. I’m so jealous. You have to call me every day. And tell me all about the Bellows, and Castle Clogyn and their Sword of Twelve. And, oh my God, all those artifacts and books!” Malcolm oozed envy. He had been telling Abbey a new little known fact about Castle Clogyn’s history every day since Abbey had shared the news. The young hunter absentmindedly spun her Rhan’Delvin relics round and round on her thumbs as Malcolm shared today’s juicy morsels of trivia. Apparently the castle was completely self-sustaining, but Malcolm was quickly onto the next subject about where the phrase ‘once in a blue moon’ actually had come from.

  Abbey got excited the more she thought about the trip and spoke a little too loudly. “I know I know! And, OMG, I can’t wait ‘till my last hunter trial on the blue moon! That means that when I get back I’ll be a full-fled
ged hunter. Hmm, I wonder if I’ll get an apprentice.”

  “Dude!” Malcolm whispered. “Be wary. Dociles at one o’clock.” A little louder he said, “Dude! You totally have Nether-brain. I thought you were gonna cut down on the gaming?”

  Abbey looked up in horror not realizing she was rambling on so loudly about court secrets so close to their school, so close to normal humans. “Oh crap! Sorry.” She hung her head down in shame.

  “No worries. That’s why you’ve got me.” Malcolm nudged her then crouched down to her eye level, “Shorty. Hobbit. Rrrrunt.”

  Abbey halfheartedly hit his arm, ashamed at her loud outburst.

  Malcolm’s voice was kind and understanding. “It’s okay, squirt, no one heard you. Just be careful,” he smiled and nudged her again. “Nobody’s perfect, runt. Not even you.”

  Abbey slugged him a bit harder and gave him a crooked smile. Malcolm was cool, even for a nerd.

  “Okay, okay. I yield, I yield.”

  The two guardians both became more careful of what they said as they neared the rest of the students lingering outside the school.

  S.B. Devere was a private school that all New York King’s Court kids attended, but with a lot of dociles, also known as regular ol’ humans, sprinkled in. Even some of the faculty were dociles, teaching everything from math to history, well, standard history that is. Guardians and sleepers taught court history to pre-gloamers and apprentices that filled in the missing pages. Even the headmaster was a guardian.

  The French renaissance style building took up virtually the entire city block. S.B.’s Parisian facade of buttery cream stones was a warm and inviting contrast against the cool slate hues in its Gothic details. Weathered grey green copper downspouts looked like twisted rope columns snuggled into the building’s corners. Gothic influenced pointed stone arches adorned every window and door, in soft tones of grey and mist. Water and time had slowly created white weeping lines down their decorated facade of swirling leaves. Lifelike, bas-relief vines, grapes, and their leaves mingled harmoniously with the dragons, artistically chiseled into warm sandy stone that framed every arch beneath its Gothic hood. Above the entrance, the school’s crest was carved out of a massive stone, the building’s own badge of honor. The sculpture was a less elaborate version of the coat of arms from Marcus Vaughan’s bloodline and heraldic achievement. The shield was reminiscent of a blade’s tip. From behind, a dragon with its wings expanded, created the crest and side supporters, as a sword pierced the shield from above. A bare ancient yew decorated the shield front and a dancette line banner, representing water, anchored the coat of arms and held the school’s motto.

 

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