by J L Terra
“Harold, it’s good to see you.” The words came out choked, given he was squeezing her ribs tight enough she could hardly get a breath.
He set her down.
“I’m looking for Erik. Is he around?”
Harold sucked in a breath through his teeth. “He’s about to start raiding.”
“Can’t you just radio him, tell him I’m here?”
“No can do. He insists nothing ruin the experience,” Harold said. “No radios. No cell phones. No watches. Not even a Fitbit on somebody’s ankle, underneath their pants. Those are the rules.”
“Just tell me where he is and I’ll find him.”
He shot her a look that encompassed Ben, Amelia, and Malachi. “You want in, you have to pay like everyone else. And get dressed up.”
“This is important.”
“I see that in your eyes, but—”
“Someone dangerous could be on their way here right now, looking for Erik.”
“Well then it’s a good thing that boy can take care of himself.”
That boy was a thirty-eight-year-old man who probably wouldn’t take kindly to being referred to in such a way.
Bryn blew out a breath and wandered to the corner of the room where a rack of postcards stood. An old battered sideboard sat under the window, a coffee pot on top. She was tempted to pour herself a cup just to give herself a minute.
Harold’s footsteps approached her back. She spun around, not wanting to be that vulnerable to anyone—not even someone she knew as well as him. His eyebrows lifted, but she ignored it. He said, “This about a case, some bad guy you’re chasing decide to target your brother?”
Amelia strode over and stood shoulder to shoulder with Bryn. “She hasn’t been an FBI agent in months. Her brother didn’t tell you?”
Harold said, “No, her brother didn’t tell me. Because he doesn’t know.” He turned to her then. “You’re not fed anymore?”
“It’s complicated.” He didn’t look disappointed, just confused. She said, “But it does have to do with the reason I’m here. We need to warn Erik that he could be in danger. Surely you have some kind of security mechanism in place to—”
A woman’s scream sounded outside. Ben was first out the door, the rest of them right behind him. A man yelled, followed by another female’s shrill cry.
Behind her, Harold yelled instructions to security. She needed to find a way to warn Erik. If her brother had the information, and if the Druid was already here, it would only be a matter of time before her brother was in grave danger.
Her body shivered, an involuntary move she struggled to contain.
She turned back. “Amelia, you stay here.”
“But I—”
Ben turned back to her as well, his eyes narrowed. “Stay here. Call for emergency services and keep yourself somewhere safe.”
The last thing she saw before she ran was Amelia’s pout.
Visitors spilled out of the hall at the far end of the street, along with staff and security. Bryn raced over, fighting to go upstream against the flow of people all scrambling to get away from what was happening inside. She drew her gun, a Glock Ben had given her, and noticed the reaction in people around her. Now they were screaming and running away from her. But it gave her the space she needed to get inside.
The glow of fireplaces on the left and right sides of the room lit the hall with the flickers of flames. Smoke had blackened the beams in the roof and laced the air with a tang. At the far end of the hall was a wide platform and a tall-backed chair. The wooden throne of a man who commanded all who entered this domain.
Right now it was empty, save for a splash of red blood on the back of the chair. Dead men lay on the floor around it. Guns and swords discarded, wounds on their torsos and faces. She looked away from the wide scratches and searched for her brother’s face among the dead. But he wasn’t here.
Ben came in the door behind her. He said nothing, just stood sentry, guarding her. For her sake, or Daire’s? He said, “We need to get out of here.”
Flames snaked out from the fire, like lava flowing from an eruption. Slowly they crept toward the center of the room while the wood floor underneath it crackled and smoked.
Bryn took a step back. “Good plan.” She looked at the fire on the other side of the room and saw it was doing the same.
Curtains had been drawn, covering the doorway between the hall and the kitchen on either side of the platform. But one had been disturbed. She pulled it back and saw more carnage in the kitchen.
Ben followed her through and they emerged out the back door to where the lake stretched out before them. A ship that had likely been moored at the dock only minutes ago was now overturned on its side. The hull was cracked, and the sails tangled with debris in the water.
More bodies.
Another ship had set sail onto the lake—or had been making its way over from the opposite bank. Mist hung in the air around the vessel, but she could make out the sail and hull. The Viking lines of the stern were lit by moonlight and the light that bled out of the hall behind her.
Two figures stood on the deck. The taller man was her brother. The other man was slightly shorter than him. The shorter man waved his arms and her brother’s shoulders bowed back. Erik lifted his face to the sky and cried out in a way she’d never heard before.
“Erik!” She dropped the gun that wouldn’t help her against the Druid and ran down the dock. Bryn dived into the water and quickly got tangled in the floating material of the rain jacket Amelia had loaned her. She pulled it off and then kicked her shoes aside for good measure.
She swam toward the ship, keeping her attention on what was happening as best she could. Erik’s cries echoed across the lake between them.
Bryn swam harder, despite the fact her fatigued body resisted the exertion. When her fingers touched the hull, she grasped the wood edge and pulled herself up amid the mist that now hung thick in the air.
Through the cloud, she made out another person climbing over the other side of the ship. Relief flooded through her that Ben was still with her. She didn’t have to face the Druid alone. They were two against one, three if Erik could help.
She fought her way toward Erik and the Druid, not thinking about what she would do when she reached them. She couldn’t, or the fear would stall her.
The mist began to swirl around her. But it wasn’t simply water droplets in the air. Fingers glanced across her skin, and then sharp claws sliced at her. The echo of laughter she heard was a grating sound full of the horrors of blood and death.
The cries rang in her mind. It was as though the sound swallowed her whole. Bryn sank to her knees and covered her ears with her palms. The laughter echoed still. And those claws. The T-shirt she’d worn under the jacket was now shredded. She cried out as hot blood seeped from her skin.
Behind it all, the sound of her brother’s keening cry echoed through the night.
He was dying.
Bryn planted a foot and pushed up. She managed to stand, still hunched over at the waist. She straightened and opened her eyes. The mist swirled around her, tighter and tighter.
She squared her shoulders. You aren’t real.
The cackling laughter echoed. She couldn’t let the fear swallow her whole. Not like last time. She’d come too far and faced too much to let this bring her down.
To let the darkness win.
She fought the press of the mist and strode forward. To where the Druid raised his arms. He traced patterns in the air, as though invoking a deep magic known only to him. Her brother’s body hung suspended now. Shoulders bent backward, his head turned to the sky. He spoke in the old tongue they’d learned from their grandfather. A language handed down through generations. Bryn had forgotten most of it.
The words emerged from his mouth despite the fact his teeth were clenched hard together and his lips didn’t move. An old tune about the “All Tree” somehow pulled from the heart of her brother. Words that had been written in his DNA. Bry
n only knew some of the phrases, but he was essentially telling the Druid what he wanted to know.
How to journey to the place where the tree stood between the worlds.
Bryn pushed through the mist and ran toward the Druid. She slammed into him and knocked him from his stance. Her brother fell to the ground, the spell’s hold on him broken. Past the initial surprise, she wasn’t sure what she was going to do to the Druid. Instinct kicked in. She balled her fist and planted it in his face until she felt the snap of his nose.
Rage lit in his eyes. Flames flickered in those black orbs, and then she was flying through the air.
Her back hit the water and she splashed beneath the surface. Lake water licked at the cuts on her back, stinging her wounds. She fought to break free of it, churning her limbs in a frenzy as though the water itself were attacking her.
An arm snaked around her waist, and she was pulled to the surface. She turned to see who had hauled her out.
Behind Ben, the great hall her brother had built as the centerpiece of the whole place exploded in a fireball.
Their heads dipped beneath the water for a second. When she surfaced, Ben stared back down at her. He tread water and held her up, his face angry. “That was a dumb thing to do. What did it achieve except to distract him?”
“I got him to let go of my brother.” She kicked her legs to stay afloat and looked back at the ship. She’d done what she could. She had tried.
Ben started to tug her toward the shore. She fought his hold. “I have to go back there. I have to help Erik.”
Mist streamed over the side of the ship and headed right for them. That sound, the mocking laughter. She had to face it. To stand against the Druid even when she didn’t have the strength.
Beyond the mist, she could see a third figure on the deck. A tall man held a sword, his swing wide and fast enough it sliced into the Druid’s shoulder. The Druid waved his arm, but the man was ready with another swing.
“Daire.” She whispered his name into the night. A little magic of her own to combat the darkness. But it wasn’t enough. They had no powers, and no way to fight the Druid. Now that he was back in his body, who knew the extent of his powers? He and Daire might both be immortal but that only meant Daire had no way to kill the Druid for good this time. All they could do was seriously injure each other.
How on earth, or in the world beyond, were they going to contain the Druid before he destroyed them all?
Ben pulled her from the water onto the shore where she lay coughing and sucking in air. She looked over at him. “We have to help Erik and Daire.”
Ben shook his head, something she didn’t understand in his eyes. “Don’t make this harder than it already is, Bryn.”
“You’re just going to sit here?” She couldn’t believe he wouldn’t go over to the ship and help his friend. Weren’t they a team?
“This is something Daire has to do alone. And he knows that. I have no ability to heal myself anymore. What am I going to be, other than a distraction? I don’t want Daire to hesitate just to save my life. We have to let him do this on his own.”
Bryn watched the ship through the mist. She squinted to make out the battle going on. “I didn’t make Daire any such promise. That’s my brother, and I’m going to go help him.”
She strode down to the edge of the water. Before she could step in, Ben tugged on her hand. When she turned around, he reached up and grasped the back of her neck.
By the time she realized what he was doing, unconsciousness had already swallowed her up.
Chapter 27
Daire slashed his sword through the mist to hack at the disembodied voices. Laughter echoed in his ears, louder now that he was attempting to fight back. He’d seen Bryn go over the side of the boat. Flying through the air as though she’d been launched from the ship by some unseen cable. One that pulled her up into the air and sent her splashing into the water.
He moved to the Druid. Sweat dripped down his face as he swiped left to right, then right to left. All the while the Druid continued his chant, rhythmically moving his hands. As though tracing letters in the air. The mist closed in. That laughing sound grating against Daire’s ears.
Erik scrambled back.
The Druid stopped chanting but continued to move his arms. Around them, the mist swirled and spun. Tiny vortexes. Tornadoes that whipped the air. “You cannot stop me. Why would you try?”
He angled the sword toward the Druid’s torso and drew it across his stomach. The Druid bent double and grunted. “You’ve lived each of the years I have. You should want this as much as I do.”
The mist stilled.
“Death for us all, then.” The old man sneered.
“I’m not going to let you destroy the world,” Daire said. “Not if it destroys their lives as well. You don’t get to choose that.”
Bryn’s brother Erik clambered to his feet. At least, he tried to. Void of strength, he fell back to his knees. Daire wanted to do the same.
The Druid started to wave his hands again. “I have been reborn with the blood of Vikings. I am Odin, All-Father.”
Erik lifted his head, his eyes filled with awe.
“No, you’re not,” Daire yelled. “You stole Bryn’s blood. You’re nothing but a twisted abomination.”
Erik glanced between them, as though not sure who to believe. “Bryn?”
Daire didn’t have time to explain. He slashed down hard. The sword sliced through the Druid’s forearm, cutting it clean off. The limb fell to the deck of the ship and rolled toward Erik. Daire yelled, “Don’t let it touch you.”
Before he could swing again, the Druid lifted up. He rushed toward Daire in a blur of movement, his face twisted in rage. He came at Daire almost faster than his eyes could process what was happening.
At the last second, the Druid dematerialized into a rush of wind that whipped at Daire’s hair as it passed him. He even felt some of the wind move through his body.
He coughed out the sensation, trying to rid his body of whatever had entered him.
“Who the heck—”
Erik’s question was cut off. The mist around them shuddered for a second, then closed in. Shapes emerged from the cloud. Snarling mouths full of teeth. The laughing turned to malicious cries.
Daire put himself in front of Erik, but it encircled them. A hundred razor-sharp teeth undulated in. Daire took a step forward, his sword tip out in front.
“You’re going to fight them off with a sword?”
He didn’t turn to look at Erik. “I have a gun as well, but I don’t think that’s going to help.”
“What do we do?”
Daire held his free hand out and waved it through the mist. Razor-sharp talons sliced at his hand and the sleeve of his jacket. Evil had been summoned here by the Druid to occupy them while he made his escape. And to hurt them.
He called out in his mind, asking for help. Beseeching Providence to come to their aid and send help that would enable them to fight against this mist, an intangible foe. He couldn’t hurt it with his sword. And neither could they pass through the mist to get out of it. If it was only Daire, and not Erik also, he might have made a run for the side of the ship. He’d have jumped into the water, hoping that beneath the surface he would be able to escape. But he had Erik to think of also.
Once again he was protecting somebody under his charge. He’d done his best to leave Shadrach and Remy and the dog behind at the museum. As much as they’d argued, Daire had left them anyway.
Mist swirled toward him. The vortex of teeth and claws snapped at his face, undeterred by his sword. Erik cried out as they slashed at him also.
Daire had been determined to face the Druid alone. As was his right.
Why had Providence once again determined to place an innocent between Daire and the Druid?
“What are we going to do?”
Daire said, “We have to stand and face it.”
“It’s going to keep coming until we’re all sliced up. And then it
’s going to kill us.”
“Death is what it wants.” Daire could feel consciousness amid the mist. An ancient evil the Druid had summoned from the depths of the earth. “It isn’t about fighting. It’s about making a stand.”
“We need help, don’t we?”
“I am the help.” Determination swelled in him and he shut his eyes. Daire reached out with his senses to feel and see beyond the physical world. A plane of existence that had been locked in this downward spiral of entropy. Right now they were locked with the chaos. Trapped by the forces that ruled this world. Beyond that was the place it had been summoned from.
Daire knew he could not defeat the mist, because it was not his battle to fight. All he had to do was stand. He had no power to fight, and if he tried, then he would never win. His job was to be the balance for good against the Druid’s evil.
He opened his eyes. The mist recoiled slightly. He took a step forward.
Erik said, “What…”
Bryn’s brother might not understand, but he was right behind Daire as they moved toward the mast, where the wind had picked up. A clean, cool breeze whipped at the sails. Daire grabbed a tangle of rigging and pulled on it. He prayed they were headed toward the dock even as the ship moved through the mist.
Teeth and claws hacked at him, but he held on to that rope.
Erik cried out. He dropped to the deck and curled up in a ball, arms over his head. Mist swirled around him so thick he was obscured. Daire continued to steer the ship with the wind, unable to help Erik. Forced to listen to the keening cries and that cackling laughter as they moved through the cloud.
Finally, it broke.
Thank You.
The bottom of the ship bumped something. The side clanged against the dock, the noise like wood striking wood. Then the bottom of the ship bumped the sand again. The wind pushed it another few feet until it stopped and listed to the side. Daire dropped the rigging and found Erik in the same position on the deck. His eyes stared, unseeing, and his chest pulsed up and down with each short breath.
Daire hauled him onto his shoulder and climbed over the side. His boots splashed into the water and soaked his jeans up to the knee. He waded to the beach and laid Erik on the sand.