Naming Day (Jake Underwood Book 1)

by Michael Ruger

  “Yeah, there are a few. First, I’m a sneaky bastard and so are you. We’re going to be underestimated by most of the Fey we meet and dismissed as less of a threat. Plus, I don’t think anybody will be expecting us to show up at all, despite this Naming Day thing. Only an idiot would stick his head in a noose.” I smiled.

  “That’s true. I’m doing it and I can’t believe it myself.” He smiled.

  “We also have another advantage. Nobody knows about you. You are my ace in the hole.” Marty nodded and I continued. “Look, if I didn’t think there was fair to equal chance that we could succeed, I would just take us to ground. But with a little highhanded behavior and some luck I think I can get us out of it and more important dump some of this crap on the parties who earned it.”

  “Do you think that you will be able to restore my position at the court of Twilight or in my father’s good graces?” Dalia asked, doubt and need filling her voice. “I don’t think that will be as easy as getting you and Marty free. Despite everything, I broke my parole. There is no disguising it or excusing it. Even if I did it for the noblest reasons, it is still a stain on my personal honor.”

  “I don’t know Dalia. A lot will depend on how much of what is going is general knowledge. But I’ll tell you this; whatever is going on is pointlessly complicated.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It’s too fancy and too tricky. There are too many things that can go wrong. Whoever is behind this is a little too clever for their own good and that gives us an opportunity to turn the tables.” I finished on what I thought was a hopeful note. Apparently, I succeeded.

  “I hope you are correct.” She smiled. “I would redeem myself and the only way that can done is by vindication.”

  I had nothing to counter that statement with so I lapsed into silence. It wasn’t too long before the turnoff to the site appeared and I turned the Crown Vic down the dirt road that led to the mound. About a mile in, the was a chain stretched across the road adorned with a sign warning that this is a historical site protected under national and state law forbidding trespassing. It was scratched and rusted in several places and looked exactly as it had the last time I had been through here. I tried not to think about how awful that trip had been and drew strength from the knowledge that despite the trial it had been, I had survived it. I stopped the car, got out and walked to the chain. It was padlocked with what appeared to be a fairly heavy lock. Most padlocks can be busted pretty easily, but this was case hardened steel and it would take a beating before it gave. I pulled my lockpick set out and went to work on it. Padlocks are actually easier than door locks so it only took a minute or so to rake the tumblers into place and turn the lock. I was rewarded a click and the sight of the shackle popping free. Marty had slid across the seat to the drivers spot and I moved so he could drive the car past the chain which I secured by restoring the lock, another advantage in not beating it to bits. I got back in the car and motioned for Marty to continue up the road.

  About two miles from the Farm to market road that we had left and into a lightly wooded area stood the remains of the Nasoni village. I had Marty throw the Crown Vic into park and I opened the door and let the scent of the place fill my nostrils.

  ‘Stood’ may be too powerful a word. There really wasn’t anything standing but the temple mound itself, at least not to mortal eyes. In the periphery of my vision I could see huts and spectral inhabitants moving about. The unburied bodies of the plague dead were scattered among the ghostly structures and a faint miasma of putrefaction swirled about the dead village. There was something else there as well. The taint of the Adversary was strong. It was nearly dusk and I wished that I could have made better time in getting here. The place was a horror show during the day, but it was worse at night. Still, we had about a half hour of light left.

  I unfocused my vision and allowed the images to fill me eyes. Overlaid on top of the suffering of the Caddo Indians who had lived and died here centuries ago was a mighty battle between the forces of the Bright Kingdom and the Adversary. The blackened armor of the vanguard was spattered with the gore of the unfathomable creatures that the Adversary had set loose. Abominations that owed as much to centipedes as they did apes, grappled in terrible conflict with the nobles of the court. It hadn’t gotten any better since the last time I was here.

  I shook my head to clear my vision and the sparsely wooded field returned there was a clear line were a healthy pine forest ended and the village proper started. Past this point, even the trees that grew were subtly twisted and unhealthy looking. Bark had sloughed from the trees and the trunks seemed alive with insects that I couldn’t identify without getting a lot closer than I wanted to. The mound was about three hundred yards away, as inviting as an opened grave.

  I motioned for Marty and Dalia to get out of the car. It was clear that they were affected by this place. Marty seemed uneasy, but Dalia was clearly the more sensitive of the two to this place. Marty just shivered a little, as if the air had grown chilled. I actually heard a whimper form Dalia. Being mortal does have advantages and this was one of them. All Marty knew was that he was uncomfortable; Dalia was dealing with the full physic backlash. She was seeing what I had seen, but probably more solid than I had.

  There was a palpable sense of ‘wrongness’ about the place was already strong and it would grow much stronger. The air seemed to hang about, cloying and choking as we started through the scrub towards the mound. Thorny brambles caught at our feet and tore our clothes as we worked our way through the ancient dying ground and battlefield. It was then that the voices started.

  At first it was like a low murmur. The kind of sound that you hear in a packed theater after everyone has settled in for the movie, but before they start showing the trailers. It started getting louder and we could hear the individual cries of the dying as they clawed and tore at our ears. It whipsawed back and forth around us, like a raging beast, growing louder. I don’t know what the others heard but I heard Kevin asking why I killed him and the stern voice of my grandfather asking how I could turn to my Fey blood after all he had done to protect me from it. I could hear Allison’s burbling moan of terror and pain as she died in my arms, her life’s blood spilling from her wounds and soaking my clothes. All those I had failed called to me to save them, knowing that I had already failed them.

  It was worse than the last time I came here. The assaulting voices of horror and recrimination beat on us like waves and while we stumbled, we continued on toward the mound and the tunnel that would lead to Veil. By the time we broke through to the clearing at the bottom of the mound we were drenched in sweat and exhausted. Dalia had tears streaming down her cheeks and thin trickles of blood flowed from her hands where her nails had dug furrows into her palms. Marty was grim and his face paler as we stumbled into an oasis of silence that gather at the base of the temple mound.

  “They killed him.” That was all she said for a moment, then a sob that sounded like animal’s moan filled the air. “They killed him.” She kept repeating over and over as she collapsed to the ground. Marty and I both hurried to her side.

  “Who? Who’s killed who? What-” Our voices over lapping each other and our questions confusing the issue. Dalia looked up, her face racked with pain and eyes glazed with tears.

  “My Father! He is dead, they killed him because I ran…in my place…It is my fault. He called to me, asked my why? Why had I betrayed him. He is dead.” She buried her face in hands and I caught her up in a hug and held her tight to me.

  “Listen to me Dalia, it isn’t real. Nothing you heard out there is real. It’s all distorted memories or our fears thrown back at us. It hasn’t happened and it won’t. Your father might be in trouble, but he’s not been executed, not for this anyway. He’s too powerful a noble for that. Even if he was charged, there is no way that a trial could have been held and sentenced carried out. Think! It can take months for the Court to move against a noble of his rank.”

  “Maybe it wasn’t the C
ourt. Maybe it was someone else, like Count Trellsor!” She wanted to believe me but she couldn’t.

  “Your father is a noble of the fourth circle. That makes him a pretty important individual. It would take a powerful force to get through his personal security and his magical defenses. He’s not dead.”

  I would like to think that if I hadn’t been occupied with Dalia, I would have heard them sneaking up but the truth is that they caught me flatfooted and wiped from our crossing of the area around the temple mound. They were waiting for us and we walked right where we they wanted us.

  “Yes. Listen to Mr. Underwood, my dear Dalia. Your father is very much alive and well at the court. Of course, you have broken his heart with your faithlessness, but what can you expect of someone conceived of a bitch whelp from the Court of Dawn.” Jeryn Callisandra stood there, flashing his overly toothy smile. Around him stood an array of black leather clad figures, bristling with weapons and attitude. The Black Watch had caught up with us at last.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  “Yes, do listen to Mr Underwood.” I can’t think of single time that I saw a more self satisfied, smug look on anyone’s face. He was positively beaming and while that was disturbing in itself, the fact that behind him stood the team that had attacked the house was downright terrifying. “I think that it might be a good idea for everyone to drop whatever weapons they might be carrying. Oh yes, I do. Some of my companions are quite upset with you and would like nothing better than an excuse to search you, rather forcefully I imagine.” The Ogre grunted and I noticed that he was still wearing the armor I had shot up less than 24 hours ago. Damn, those bastards are tough.

  “Do what he says Marty.” Marty nodded and dropped the Uzi he was carrying and reached inside his coat and pulled out his 9mm by the hilt and gingerly placed it on the ground. I followed suit and dropped the three guns I had been carrying on the ground, but I kept the knife that was strapped to my wrist.

  “Now Dalia, my dear, I want you to very carefully pick up all those nasty weapons and bring them to me.” Dalia’s eyes were wide as she gingerly picked up the guns and brought them to the smirking Callisandra. She cowered before him and quickly retreated. “That’s very good my little dupe. Run back to your friends.” Dalia moved back over to Marty and me and stood between us.

  I looked at the three figures standing with Callisandra and I knew that our straits were dire indeed. The ogre I had put nine slugs into was standing as tall as ever, slightly smiling. I could still see the tears in the hardned leather vest that he wore. Ogres were tough bastards, no doubt about it. The only way to put one down was to enough damage to tear him limb from limb. An uzi might do it, if you unloaded 2 or 3 clips into it. A nine would never do it.

  The elf I burned removed his helmet and I could easily see the damage I had done. The side of his face was sunken in and twisted into a mass of scar tissue. One of his eyes was fused closed with melted and red suffused flesh. Part of the skin on his cheek was burned away and you could see what was left of his lower jaw showing through the tear in his cheek. I think that the most disturbing aspect was the contrast between the unscarred side of his face and the ruin that my iron cross had caused. The elf stepped forward, and raised a wicked looking blade and moved towards us. He’s gaze was fixed and the menace was palpable as he raised the blade.

  “Now that will be quite enough, Serlish. I know Mr. Underwood has done you a disservice, but there will be no killing, at least not for now.” The elf, Serlish I figured, mumbled something, probably a threat but it was hard to understand what he said. Still, I got the message clear enough. He stepped back, but never quite lowered the blade.

  “How’d you find us anyway?” I was genuinely curious. I wouldn’t have thought that this place was common knowledge so I was interested in how he had tracked us.

  “Dalia of course. She told us exactly how to find you.” He smiled.

  “Lies! I have not spoken with him since I fled the court! Do not believe him, Jake Underwood, I would not betray you!” she looked at me with pleading eyes and it made my heart break. She was so innocent in many ways.

  “Don’t worry about it Dalia. He’s just yanking your chain. I know you didn’t tell him anything.” I sized up the smiling Callisandra. “Some kind of tracking spell, maybe something based on blood perhaps?”

  His smile increased and he bowed. “Very good Mr. Underwood. Very good indeed. A pity you didn’t think of it sooner. You could have had it removed. That would have made all this much more difficult.” I cursed myself. I should have considered the option. I could have at least given her the once over to make sure she wasn’t tagged. One of the problems with Magic is that there are so many ways for it to be used that it isn’t always easy to tell exactly what’s being done.

  “I’m glad that I could be of service.” I considered our options and they weren’t good. Maybe if I could get him to chatting I could think of something that I or Marty could do to get us out “What the hell is all this about anyway? If you wanted Dalia dead you must have had many opportunities to do so over the years, why all the complications?”

  “To be honest, despite her annoying presence through the years, she posed no real threat to me or Lord Klaris. She was only a distraction for Lord Klaris. I did not give her much thought until her star began rising at the Court of Twilight.” His face clouded as he discussed Dalia. He really did hate her.

  “Ah. You were afraid that her usefulness would eclipse yours?” I mused.

  “Exactly. I have served him loyally for years and he just can’t see how damaging she could be to his image and his power. Worse, he wouldn’t care! He would throw it all away for a slip of girl from the Court of Dawn! His liaison with her mother was bad enough, stupid bitch that she was, but his indulgence of his daughter was just too much. He would deny her nothing! Nothing!” He was almost frothing at the mouth and I realized that he wanted to tell someone, to rant about how unfair it all was. I was just the lucky audience. Joy.

  Beside me Dalia was stunned by what he said. I think that she knew intellectually that he hated her, but to hear it spoken so plainly and with such vehemence took her by surprise.

  “I could see her worming her way into his confidence, representing him at various ceremonies and rituals. Nothing big you understand, but each time a little of my utility was being sold away to his whore’s daughter!” Dalia tensed, as if to spring at him, but I held her back. Jeryn might be lost in his hate but the strike team with him wasn’t and Serlish was just waiting for a chance to kill someone, Me first, but Dalia shortly thereafter.

  “Okay. I can see why you might hate her. But why bring me into it? It just seems like a needless flourish and risky besides.”

  “Obviously it wasn’t too risky, because here we both stand, with all my goals in sight.” I acknowledged the touche and he went on. “I knew of her family at the Court of Dawn, including her uncles’ dalliance with a mortal, in other words you. I also knew of the disputes that you have had with the court over the years and the delicious irony of having a member of her own family rape and kill her would punish them quite nicely. Lord Klaris is already unhappy with her treatment by your family and this could easily lead to a blood feud. There will be plenty of opportunity for a competent man to move up at court.”

  “So this was all a plot to rid yourself of a unwanted rival and blame it on her mother’s family, my family?” I was a little confused but not that surprised. Like many of the things that the Fey did it was hopelessly intricate and filled with garnishes that added nothing but trouble to the execution of the plot.

  “The plan was simple. I, the devoted servant, would discover everything, too late to stop the tragic event, but in time to punish the guilty. Quite neat, isn’t it?”

  “Not really. If all you wanted was to involve me with Dalia to provide a suitable victim for Dalia’s father to blame, why did you involve Count Trellisor and why did you have Kevin killed?”

  For the first time, I saw Jeryn Callisandr
a looked confused. He looked at his hit squad and then back at me. “Who’s Kevin?”

  “Kevin Unglunblasch, the goblin bartender at the Silver Tree. I saw members of the Black Watch, an elf, Ogre, dwarf and one other take his head. Sound Familiar? That almost describes your buddies perfectly with you filling in as the unknown fourth.”

  Something was wrong. Jeryn was looking at his hit squad and they were looking back at him. I suppose it’s possible that he could be a better actor than I gave him credit for, but I would swear that he was as dumbfounded as I was to see him guarding the Nasoni Temple mound.

  “You don’t know what I’m talking about do you? Now that is interesting, isn’t it? There are players you don’t know about, aren’t there?” I was smiling. Confusion to my enemies!

  “Be quiet, you annoying man!” Callisandra called over the dwarf and they walked away from where we were standing. I strained to hear what they were talking about but I couldn’t catch much. The dwarf and Callisandra were conversing in low tones occasionally punctuated by gestures that indicated that there was more going on than I was hearing.

  As much as I would like to have taken advantage of this confusion, the Ogre was watching us carefully and Serlish was practically begging for an excuse to pay attention to us and me in particular. I declined to be entertained by him. The ogre walked over to me and poked me in the chest with a finger the size of a baby’s arm.

  “You shouldn’t have shot me. I hate getting shot. It’s very annoying and it can take days to work the slugs out, you bastard.” The ogre was calm as he made his point using his arm to hit the same points on my chest that my nine millimeter had on him. He smiled a huge smile punctuated by his tasks and stepped back. I was hoping that he was done, but he had more to say.

  “I was hoping that I would get you, but Serlisch has a better claim than me. I get the other mortal, though. He looks like he could be tasty. At least he will be once I get through tenderizing him. Humans can be a little tough. “ He smiled again, showing that there were no hard feelings and laid his hand on a knife that looked like it might have served as a short sword for a just about anyone else.