Legacy First Trilogy Box Set: Books 1-3 of the Legacy Series
Page 38
The chiropteran released its hold on its perch and dropped down. Its wings spread and it glided right at me, talons bared. I placed my right hand on my chest and pulled at a knot, releasing Djinn. I grasped the hilt and swung at the talons raking toward me, releasing an arc of blue energy from the blade. The hit altered the angle of the attack, sending the beast sideways. It flapped its wings awkwardly to avoid slamming onto a wall.
“It seems to like you, Erik,” Tenzin said. The old man was weaving in and out of the large crates and containers piled on top of each other, moving like a breeze. The bat never noticed him.
“Shut up,” I said as I ran away from the flapping and screeching.
“Perhaps I should provide a distraction?” he suggested.
The chiropteran got wise to my act and avoided my second attack, swerving to one side like a race car driver as blue energy streaked by. One of its wings caught my side, sending me crashing against a crate. A claw raked across my chest, tearing open a gash. My powers healed me instantly but it still hurt like a bitch.
“You know,” I called out to Tenzin. “Maybe you could provide a distraction.”
I heard him chuckle.
Heat emanated from the other side of the warehouse. A single spot shone brightly, becoming increasingly intense by the heartbeat. The chiropteran twisted its head towards the light, its small, bulbous, blood-red eyes searching for its source.
Like a moth to a flame, I thought. The beast took flight lazily and circled over Tenzin, who stood still at the center of the light.
I searched the room for something to give me an advantage. The warehouse was a mess of crates piled on top of each other with scratch marks on nearly every wall and smashed wood littering the areas of the room where the bat had gone rabid. Small piles of bones were tucked in one corner, and I shuddered to think whose they were.
An idea formed in my head as I saw the beast float hypnotically towards Tenzin.
“Erik,” Tenzin yelled. “Please, do something before I run out of energy.”
“Got it.”
Tenzin released his power and the light disappeared. The bat shook its head violently and swooped towards him. It swooped again and again, raking with its talons, trying to catch the pesky little man. Tenzin had a different style of evasion than I did. He would twist and turn in tight circles, always narrowly avoiding a lethal blow.
I climbed on the first crate and leapt onto a higher one. My body remembered the mechanics of climbing from all those days of training in the forest. I ran towards a particularly high container, took two steps upwards and grasped the ledge. I pulled myself up and climbed a smaller container on top of that. Soon, I was only a few feet away from banging my head against the ceiling.
The chiropteran flapped below, its focus completely on Tenzin.
Here’s a little piece of knowledge about birds or anything that flies: their advantage was that they could swoop down from the shelter of the sky and surprise their victims. They didn’t have to worry about something sneaking up on them because where was it going to hide?
They also think they are the only ones with the aerial advantage and therefore have no protection against something that is above them.
I was above the chiropteran in plain sight, and yet it never noticed me—which was exactly what I was going for. I jumped down, with Djinn glowing an intense blue, my power ready to strike. I rocketed down towards the bat’s long, furry body and unleashed a crescent-shaped blast of azure energy. It caught the target perfectly, and no amount of shrieking and flapping could slow the bat as it slammed into the floor.
Now, here’s some information about our species: we can’t fly, but we think we can. I thought that I could either land on the bat as it fell down or that maybe the blowback from my energy would propel me towards a container where I could then perform some awesome ninja acrobatics, land safely, and amaze everyone.
I was wrong.
For one thing, I couldn’t aim that well—no land creature could. I veered off to one side as I swung my arm to blast the chiropteran with Djinn, throwing me off my trajectory and falling all the way down.
My back met a wooden crate at a million miles per hour and flattened it. I was pretty sure some of the cracking and snapping came from my spine. The impact made my eyes roll to the back of my head, and I felt as if every bone in my body had been broken. I couldn’t breathe and was hanging onto consciousness by a fine thread.
The chiropteran was luckier. The damage it took from my sword and the subsequent fall must have hurt it, but the damn thing was covered in fur. My hazy mind made a quick connection: fur equals less ouch, which means the damn thing could get up faster.
It stood awkwardly on all fours and loomed over me, before bringing its disturbing sucker-mouth close to my face, ready to shred me. I got Djinn in between us, aimed the tip at its neck, and closed my eyes in disgust. I channeled all my power through my sword and a beam of energy shot from the tip, carrying the bat upwards. It flapped its wings, trying to regain balance, but instead crashed against a wall.
A quick burst of light exploded from the walls as the smell of ozone and burnt plastic filled the air. The chiropteran spasmed, but remained glued to the walls. The shrieking made my ears ring, and after a few seconds the light was gone as every bulb in the warehouse burst in a shower of glass. The monster crashed onto a stack of crates, lying very still.
I stood and searched for Tenzin. With a light sound, the emergency lights on top of the door kicked in, and I saw him crouched slightly with his fingers hovering around an electrical outlet.
“Was that you?” I asked.
“Yes,” he replied as he rubbed his fingers together. The smallest of lightning bolts, tiny enough to crackle between his middle and index finger, snaked once around his hand before disappearing completely.
“Neat trick.”
“It’s all about subtlety, Erik.”
I rolled my eyes. “Whatever.” I pointed at the dead monster. “I wonder what made it nest in here.”
“There are two reasons creatures take shelter,” Tenzin said. “Fear or breeding.”
I looked at the chiropteran’s claws. The sensation of being raked by them was painfully fresh. “I don’t think anything could have scared that away.”
“Then perhaps, we can search for signs of breeding,” Tenzin suggested as he walked over to one corner. I followed his lead and headed over to another corner.
I found what I was looking for easily enough. It looked like any other bird’s nest, except it was the size of a small car. Inside were three eggs, ordinary as can be. Each looked about four times the size of a regular chicken’s egg.
“I think I found our happy family,” I called out. Beside the eggs sat a broken crate and a half-eaten ham. Guess that solved the mystery of what was in the crates, as well as the bones I had seen earlier.
Tenzin glanced over to the eggs and placed a palm on one of them. “These hatchlings are soon due to come out. A month, perhaps, at the latest.”
“You’re a bat whisperer now?”
“I have a way with animals,” he replied. Then, his expression darkened. “They will hatch and demand a fresh kill. Something with running blood. This preserved food will not be sufficient for them.”
“Meaning they’ll hunt people,” I said.
“Yes.”
Without warning, I tightened my grip on Djinn and channeled just enough power into it to coat the blade in azure flame and elongate it. I brought the weapon down on the eggs, destroying the hatchlings before they could hurt anyone. I hacked once, twice, and backed away as the goo spilled over. The carcasses of the baby monsters fell down on the nest, most of them in a bloody mess. I sent a wave of energy at them just to be sure.
Tenzin made a sound.
“What?” I said. “Was I supposed to let them live because every life deserves a chance or some other bullshit?”
“No,” he replied. “I was just wondering if the eggs were edible or not.”
“You got anything that makes water?” I asked.
Tenzin straightened up. “Like what?”
“I dunno. A magic water deva or something.”
Tenzin concentrated, and the Alsatian dog appeared with the usual light show. Tenzin petted the dog once and sent it away. The dog ran down the dimly lit street, its tongue lolling from its mouth.
“I’m just sayin’,” I continued. “You got a magic friendship dog. Why can’t you have something that makes water? Water is useful.”
“Why would I need God’s help getting something so easily procured? It’s called God’s favor, not a wish list.”
“Do you have any water then, since it’s so easily procured?”
“No, I do not have any water.”
“So, where am I supposed to get water?” I insisted. Tenzin pointed at the ocean. “Really? You expect me to wash in salt water?”
“People have been doing it for centuries,” Tenzin replied with a shrug.
“That’s fresh water. Like a river.”
Tenzin eyes opened wide in wanderlust. “Perhaps that is why my clothes need replacing so often.”
I rolled my eyes. “Maybe if you had a deva that sews clothes.”
“No such thing, my friend. Now, excuse me while I welcome our friend.” Tenzin turned to look at the direction the dog had run off to.
It returned, followed closely by the warehouse owner, who huffed out of breath.
“Your buddy here smelled me out,” he said between wheezes. “I was waitin’ to see you in action.”
“I’m afraid the job is done,” Tenzin replied. He placed one hand on the man’s shoulder. “Listen to me. It was a giant bat, perhaps six feet long.” The owner’s eyes widened. “It’s dead now, don’t worry. But you need to burn the body and bury what’s left. Do not take pictures of it. Do not share this information with the public.” The dog rubbed against the warehouse owner’s legs and he petted it unconsciously. “I am saying this for your safety. There are many who will harm you if you start a conspiracy. It’s better to go about your peaceful life, my friend.”
Tenzin’s tone was calming and hypnotic. The guy just threatened the owner, but not once did I feel hostility coming from him. Perhaps he was referring to the other whack-job wizards like my Dad, who wouldn’t think twice before killing someone.
The man nodded sharply. “I ain’t telling nobody. Who would believe me? I’d end up in a nut house.” Then, as an afterthought, he said, “You guys never told me how much.”
Tenzin smiled. “We never asked to be paid.”
“Then how about a crate? This is some premium ham, best of the best. I get it cheap from Canada,” he said proudly.
Tenzin was about to decline when he heard my stomach rumble. He gave me a look, which I returned by glowering at him. “Perhaps one for the road then.”
The man went inside to get our payment.
“I thought you ate a fruit that the rabbit deva touched,” Tenzin whispered.
“Yes, I did. But I think my magic must have nullified the spell,” I whispered back.
“Erik, you are one strange boy,” he replied with a sigh.
“You have no idea.”
Chapter 33
That night we slept back at the abandoned warehouse. Not the most comfortable place to get some shut-eye, but hey, I guess warehouse beats ditch, right?
Besides, it wasn’t so bad. Tenzin was snoring lightly a few feet away, curled up in a blanket he produced from his rucksack. It looked thick and warm. I had no such luxury. A tarpaulin was folded underneath me like an extremely hard and rough cushion. The blanket I used to wrap around Djinn came from my shoulder to my knees and did very little against the cold ocean breeze that snuck in from holes and cracks all over the walls.
Yet, despite all that, I felt more comfortable than I had in a long time. I lay on my back looking through a small window. I could hear the incoming waves gently brushing against the shore. The stars shone bright, though not quite as bright as they did over Trinity Forest. The best part was the moon, a silver crescent that bathed everything in faint light. This warehouse was peaceful.
It took a few days to adjust to my new lifestyle with Tenzin. It was an eye-opening experience, to say the least. Tenzin was nothing like any other person I had ever encountered. People have their own reasons for doing things—Tenzin seemed to exist solely to help others. He had completely risen above our societal needs. He lived by whatever life sent his way and made that work perfectly. We spent a month together, roaming the land from one town to another. We helped people, not for money or rewards, but merely for the sake of helping those in need.
And for a while, I felt truly at peace.
But it couldn’t last forever. In the furthest recesses of my mind, the image of Alastair Crowley remained firmly etched. I kept replaying the night I killed my father over and over again, wondering if I could have done something differently.
No, was the answer. I wouldn’t change anything. I would still kill him because he still wanted to kill Gil and me.
Gil’s horrified expression was something else I would never forget. I couldn’t even imagine what she was going through right now. Was she rebuilding the house? If it were up to me, I’d tear the place down and just move on. But Gil loved that place—for her, it had always been home.
I ran away and joined up with Tenzin in his nomadic mission from God or whatever, but I guess I mostly did it to outrun Crowley. I could feel him on the hunt—he was getting closer, I knew it. Tenzin would listen and nod every time I relayed my suspicions to him. He would assure me that I was safe and that he would protect me. I’d end up scoffing at him, pretending I didn’t need some old man’s protection and he would smile, knowing all along it was just an act. He would say to have faith, that God will protect us from Crowley and that God would never give us a challenge that we couldn’t face.
And for a while, God did protect us. But I guess he was on a budget, because one day Tenzin just up and decided to train me.
“I have been pondering this decision for a while now, my friend,” he said. “And I do believe that I can see your Achilles Heel.” He sat down cross-legged and motioned for me to do the same. “You have the skill to hunt beasts, but this Crowley is no beast. He has more than instinct—he has intellect. You must learn how to fight off smart predators, not simply hunt the prey. And most importantly, you will learn how to fight your biggest foe.”
“Crowley?” I suggested.
“No,” he replied, shaking his head. “You think it is, but it is not so. Your biggest foe is also your biggest ally, Erik. It is yourself.”
“How the hell can I fight myself and ally with myself at the same time?”
“That, my dear friend, you will discover on your own as you progress.” He stood up and placed his palms together, bowing slightly. “Will you allow me to teach you?”
I mirrored his behavior and bowed. “Yes, I would be honored.”
That was when we moved back to Eureka, back to our old abandoned warehouse. We were, perhaps, a few hours away by foot, and Tenzin spent the entire day just talking and talking, trying to explain philosophy to me. Honestly, I felt sorry for him. Trying to teach me anything by talking seemed to do as much good as putting swim fins on a cat and chucking it in the water. I think he finally got the message, because we spent the last hour in silence.
“So, this is where we’re gonna train?” I asked.
The warehouse was exactly as we had left it two weeks ago when we had to go on a case. It was damp, dark, and smelled like scallops. Also, there wasn’t a single patch of ground that didn’t have oil stains or cracks, or just some weird pus-like moss spawning from it. One side had workbenches and tools, although there was more rust than metal. With no light or power, we had to make-do with windows and sunlight.
“No,” Tenzin replied.
He went over to a wall, this one devoid of furniture and rusting metal, and pulled the tarpaulin covering a section of it. Moss and dust spread out like a cloud.
Over the wall was a spray-painted symbol: a circle within a circle, and runes etched in-between the two. In the middle of everything, I recognized one giant Chinese character that I remembered meant ‘gate’. The whole arrangement was twice the size of Tenzin, more than ten feet long and wide.
“Behind this gate is a pocket universe I created using the style of the Ryugyu Temple,” Tenzin explained as he placed a palm on the circle and channeled energy into it. The circles began rotating like gears, one spinning clockwise, the other counter-clockwise. The runes glowed and the ‘gate’ character dissolved into a mass of light that warped in on itself.
“This is my own personal paradise,” Tenzin continued, “and I do believe it is time I shared it with someone else.” He took my hand and together, we walked through the light.
Tenzin wasn’t kidding when he said it was a paradise.
Stepping into that pocket dimension was mind-boggling and elating at the same time. I was raised in a house full of Warlocks, so I had no problem accepting the fact that a completely different universe—even a small one like this—was hidden right under our noses. I wasn’t completely sure of how that worked, but I could look past it.
What really grasped my full attention was the scenery. We emerged on an open plain covered with grass, smooth and silky. In the distance was a small patch of trees, and a river which flowed until it reached a large pond. On the other side of the pond water flowed out again, a snake of clear liquid that disappeared in the horizon.
Tenzin cocked his head and began walking. I shook myself out of my daze and followed him. The air smelt of grass and budding flowers, like an eternal spring. The sun wasn’t too hot or bright, just perfect.