Naming Day (Jake Underwood Book 1)

by Michael Ruger

Dalia was here, her face streaked with grime and sweat, her hands pressed against the low green hill that was the exit on this side. She looked at me, surprised to see me. I suspect she thought Marty would be coming through first.

  “Shut It! Shut the damned gate down now! I knew that I was shouting, even though the words sounded like whispers to me. I could see Dalia’s lips moving and I could tell she was asking about Marty.

  “He didn’t make it. You’ve got to shut it now!” I screamed.

  She pulled her hands from the hillside and the portal began to collapse immediately. I realized that she had been keeping the gate open through sheer force of will since I had dropped the iron in the veil. No mean feat, considering that she was wounded and still didn’t have full use of her arm. Once she stopped forcing it to stay open, it snapped shut.

  As the gate closed, I could see a brilliant flash of light as the Veil buckled. Incredible energies must have been released because even with the gate shrinking to the size of tennis ball, there was an enormous gout of light and heat that shot forth into the Bright Kingdom. I was thrown from my feet and into the air. I could see the ground rushing to meet me and that was the last thing I remembered.

  Chapter Twenty Three

  How long I was unconscious I wasn’t sure. Dalia couldn’t tell me because when I came to she was passed out herself. In addition to the stress of the working and the fact that she had an injury that had nearly taken her shoulder off, and I was a little surprised that she had held out as long as she had. I guess that guy who said that the prospect of being hanged concentrated your thoughts nicely had it about right. I knew we never would have made an escape without her but I might have pushed her too hard

  I got to my knees and regretted it immediately. My head swam and my vision grayed out and I landed back on my ass, my hands flung out to steady myself. I could see that Dalia wasn’t the only one with injuries. The last few days had been rough on all of us. It occurred to me that perhaps I had added another concussion on top of the one that I had received the night before. As I moved, slowly, I discovered that each movement was a new expedition into a land of aching pain. I had scratches and tears aplenty but every bone seemed to be in the right place, but that didn’t make them hurt any less. In fact, I think maybe the only part of my body that didn’t hurt was my instep. But I wasn’t taking any bets on that.

  I finally made my way over to where Dalia lay and began to perform a cursory exam. I couldn’t see any new injuries other than a few new bruises. I checked the shoulder wound. Whoever the doc was who packed her shoulder had known his stuff for all that he was probably unlicensed. It was oozing a little but not too much. I felt her forehead and she wasn’t feverish. That was good. She was probably just exhausted.

  I shook my head and wished that I could let her sleep, but we were out in the open and it felt too exposed. I knew it was unlikely for somebody to wander by and wonder what we were doing way out here in the middle of nowhere, but it just didn’t feel safe.

  It was still day and that meant that I either had lost time or gained it. In general, these things never work out in my favor, but this time I thought that they had. In fact, I suspected that this was the same morning of the day that had just ended on the other side of the veil. Time flows funny in the Bright Kingdom. I was pretty sure that Cuthbert Brightwater had given me his time limit in Mortal time, because that was where we were when he delivered his message. Typically, time flows slower over here than it does in the world of man. At least I hoped so.

  As I looked around, I notice that the mound we had entered in Texas had its mirror on this side. The warm sunshine broke through the canopy above and dappled the ground below. The mound was thick with small trees and shrubbery; in fact the entire area was overgrown. That was good. It meant that this side of the mound wasn’t visited very much. It was quite likely that we would not be disturbed. So I sat there, in the warm morning sun and cradled Dalia’s head in my lap, trying to decide what to do next.

  I couldn’t have been sitting there for more than a few minutes when the sound that came burbling from the woods finally penetrated my daze and I realized that there was a brook or stream nearby. Good news. It meant that I would be able to clean the newest wounds that Dalia and I had acquired.

  This time when I got to my feet it took. I was able to keep my balance and get Dalia on hers. She was barely conscious and didn’t look too steady but we were able to walk, not confidently perhaps, but with purpose toward the woods where I had heard the water.

  Now, I just want to make one thing very clear. Faerie woods aren’t filled with cute nymphs and fauns like some Disney movie. In fact, they can be downright scary at the same time that they are beautiful. The other thing about them is that they are crawling with the fey. Most of these Fey are pretty harmless; little wood spirits really, that guard a tree or a stone or some such thing. If you are familiar with Shinto, you get the idea. Most of the spirits can’t communicate with anybody but each other and nobody really knows what they are saying. It doesn’t really matter, because unless you are dicking around with their stone or tree or pool or whatever the hell it is, they won’t mess with you. However, if you have an evil intent towards some sacred rock or such you will stay in the woods forever. It pays to tread lightly in the woods of the Fey.

  Don’t get me wrong, they are plenty of things in the woods that every Fey with a lick of sense would avoid as assiduously as possible. There just aren’t as many of them as there used to be. Since the Compact got signed most Fey Nobles don’t have any other Fey nobles to kill so they spend their idle time scheming at Court or hunting the Unclean or those creatures who refused to sign the Compact. I would have prayed not to meet any of them if I thought it would help.

  The stream was crystal clear and cool. I let my eyes unfocused and sure enough, there was a guardian spirit. It’s not like the guardian of the spring should have a problem with me, but it pays to be careful. Streams like this are meant to be drunken from and the spirit should know that. They usually only got upset if someone polluted the stream or tried to dam it up.

  It didn’t take much prompting for Dalia to relapse into unconsciousness so I let her slip to the ground and tried to remember what the proper protocol was for thanking the guardian spirit. I couldn’t remember, exactly, so I just winged it.

  “Thank you kind spirit for allowing me the use of your stream. The water looks cool, sweet and refreshing. Truly, you will have saved my life and the life of my lady and I will always remember this debt.” The Fey love speeches like that. I was pretty sure that the Guardian spirit of the stream was just as amenable to a flowery compliment as any high lord.

  I saw the spirit flit about and dance. I guess it was happy. Hard to tell. But it wasn’t trying to stop me so I cupped my hands in the cool, clear water and raised it to my lips. It was the most delicious drink I have ever had. I tore part of sleeve off and dipped in the spring and set about tending Dalia’s cuts and bruises. I knew that she would probably heal faster than I would by being in the Bright Kingdom. Technically, this was really the Court of Dawn, but this far out no one really cared about such fine points. We were far enough away from the hustle and bustle that this land was probably unclaimed by any noble. I just hoped that I could find some way to get to the court proper quickly enough. But that was a problem for later.

  Dalia began to stir. She had a little water from the stream and she was more alert. She looked at me with those searching eyes. I could tell what they were saying even if her lips had never spoke a word; “What happened to Marty?”

  I looked at her and tried to think of the best way to tell her. I mean, she had to know already, but speaking the words seemed to make it more real.

  “Marty didn’t make it. He…he took a slug to the back, just before he made it to the guns. I think it was from someone on top of the hill, but it could have been a stray shot from the woods. There’s no way to know. But I guess it doesn’t really matter anyway, the only thing that does is that he�
��s gone.” Tough guys don’t cry, at least not in the time I was raised in, but that doesn’t mean that they don’t want to. I had lost two good friends in less than a week and wasn’t just sad, I was pissed as hell. I added Marty’s name to the list of those needed to be paid for by someone.

  Dalia didn’t have my prohibition against tears and let her grief have free rein. I suspected that she cried not just for Marty but for all that she had lost I did my best to comfort her, but my own mourning was too close to the surface and I had to stay frosty if I was to get us someplace safe.

  We sat there for an hour, maybe a little more, Dalia and I talking about what to do next. I knew the general direction of the court and was trying to decide the best way to get there when I heard the soft pop of a twig breaking from the edge of the spring’s clearing. There was a Faerie standing there, dressed in well worn leather armor. His boots came up to his knees and for all the wear they exhibited, they were obviously well cared for. He had traditional weaponry for a Fey lord, sword and bow. The bow was slung, but this hand rested on the hilt of the sheathed blade. He stood easy in the wood and it seemed to me that he was part of it, that it flowed around him, yet contained him. I could tell that the snapping twig had merely been his way of announcing his presence to us. His long, gray hair was swept back and tied in woodsman fashion, a long braid, secured with leather ties. He was looking at us, trying to figure who or what we were and if we were a threat to him.

  “Well met, travelers.” His voice was a deep baritone and it sounded to me like he had a trace of a human accent. He stood waiting for the correct response. I tried to think of some clever story to tell him but I was just too tired and didn’t really care what he thought.

  “Well met, my lord.” I wasn’t actually sure what the proper form was. There wasn’t supposed to be anybody out here so I had no idea what he actually was. For all I knew he could be a shapeshifter. I let my gaze soften and could see that he was probably just another Fey, but there was so much magic here that it kinda blurs together. He laughed.

  “No sonny boy, not “My Lord”, not for a long time now. I am Jervlas Stormcrow Gate Warden of the Nassoni Temple Mound for his most majestic muckety-muck, Lord Belsoumnde, Lord of the Court of Dawn and chief dishwasher in these parts.” He said the words with a smile but his hands never strayed from the sword hilt and it seemed to me that even while he jibed at the Emperor of the Court of Dawn, his words were not really as mocking as they seemed.

  “Gate Warden? I thought that they dismissed all the wardens a few centuries ago?” I seemed to remember that while the Gate Wardens had been a high post of honor when travel between the mortal world and the Court had been more frequent, that had all changed with the signing of the Compact. Precious little came through and most of it used gates closer to the court. Of course, there were always rumors of smuggling but never through such ill-omened gates as this one. Only the desperate or idiotic would try to move goods through here.

  “No, they weren’t dissolved exactly. It was just that when they fell vacant his lordship let ’em sit vacant.” He paused for moment and took in Dalia and myself. I knew we looked bad. Torn clothing, scrapes, bandages and dried blood tend to give one a bad impression or at least a correct impression that I didn’t like people to have.

  “Well, you look pretty beat to hell. Why don’t we go back to my cabin and let’s see if we can’t do a little something to amend your fortunes. You can tell me something to put in my logbook that no one ever reads and we’ll see what’s what.” He turned to go and started back into the woods. His hand never left the hilt and I stared after him as he vanished into the thick, green copse. I looked at Dalia and she shrugged. I guess I agreed with her. We didn’t really have much to lose and I certainly wasn’t in any position to challenge him. Besides I suspected that he knew perfectly well how to use that big bow of his.

  He popped out of the woods with a quizzical expression on his face. “Well? Are you coming? I suppose we could talk here but I’m getting old and I need my afternoon tea. Besides, my chairs are a lot more comfortable than the ground.” I stood up, my legs decided that they were game for little walk and followed him into the woods.

  The trip through the woods was and remains to this day a blurry spot in my memory. I suspect that combination of fatigue, blood loss and grief made it so, but I wouldn’t have put it past Stormcrow to have used a clouding glamour on us. To this day, I don’t think I could find my way back to that little freehold far into the woods. Dalia was equally clueless as to how we ended up where we did, but that didn’t shock me too much because she actually passed out twice. Jervlas always seemed to be handy whenever she got too heavy for me or when I got to feeling lightheaded.

  I like the woods as much as the next guy, but I am city guy. I like my trees planted neatly and benignly. These old growth forests give me the creeps and this was no exception. I was sure that all kinds of nasty little things were lurking in and about these monsters and I was never more relieved to see a bright patch of sunlight ahead, breaking through the ancient canopy of wood and vine above us.

  In the sunlight was a small building, possibly a farm, but not dedicated to the cause of agriculture. There seemed to be a small vegetable garden and a smoke hut so I surmised, using my sleuthing skills, that farming was a bit of sideline rather than the main pursuit. Jervlas seemed to know his way around the place so I assumed, rightly as it turned out, that it was his.

  He motioned us into the main room of the small cabin and I saw that this was an old place. It was a combination of stone and wood that seemed to say that all these had been placed before the age of man. The dark, lanky elf guided us to a seat around a wooden table whose top displayed the wear of many years of use. He sat before us stoneware mugs which he begin to fill with some horrid combination of herbs that made me pine for Adriana’s coffee. He paused for a moment perhaps considering exactly what to put in there. He started to withdraw and cease with some brown, withered leaf, but though better of it and dropped it in. Pouring steaming water from a copper pot he made the mugs began to hiss and spit. A noxious cloud of steam filled the air with a less than healthy aroma. I almost expected skull and crossbones to form in the steam like in a Warner Brothers cartoon.

  “These are medicinal herbs. They taste like crap but they will restore your energy and get you on your feet. They ain’t a substitute for real rest and healing, but they’ll let you struggle through. ‘Course you’ll hit rock bottom in a few days and feel like pounded shit, but at least you’ll be able to tell me why you’re invading the Court of Dawn.”

  Me? I don’t mind but, Lord Belsoumnde might not like it. He’s a might particular about who comes in collapsing gateways and spewing eldritch light all about.”

  Chapter Twenty Four

  I didn’t know what to say to that, but I will tell you one thing, he was right about the hell’s brew he had in those mugs. One little sip of that stuff and I felt like I had, well, a bolt of lightning shot straight at my private parts. My vision cleared and became very sharp. My various aches receded and my head stopped throbbing. I felt great. I shook my head as if to clear it of the influence of the herbs. I started choking, as did Dalia.

  “You just drink that all down. The initial rush will pass and you’ll need the rest of it to keep you going. You two look pretty hard used.” He smiled a friendly enough smile, if I was to believe it, and finally took picked up his own mug and took a sip. I didn’t want to tell this guy anything and I was trying to think of a good tale to tale this guy when Dalia spoke up.

  “Forgive me my bad manners sir, but as you have observed this has not been the best of days for us and as much as I thank you for this restorative, I have to wonder what your interest in us is?” Her eyes were large above the mug as she stared at him.

  He smiled and held a shark like grin and then relented. “Fair enough. As I said, I am Jervalas Stormcrow, Gate warden of the Nassoni Temple mound, at your service. You can call me Jarvelas if you’ve a mind to.”
I got the impression of a bow even though he didn’t move an inch. “My interest is that I ‘m supposed to keep track of comin’s and goin’s from there to here and vice versa. While it’s not strictly illegal to use this gate it’s damned peculiar and… I ain’t such a fan of damned peculiar. It means trouble and that means paperwork and testimony among the bunch of idiots that make up the third and fourth circles of the Court. You ain’t goin’ to cause any trouble are ya?” He directed the question at me and I sighed.

  “Probably. Lately, I can’t seem to get away from it. I won’t intentionally make trouble but it seems to following on my heels pretty closely.”

  ‘I knew it the moment I saw that blast of light at the mound, I knew it. I said ‘Jervalas, that there is trouble, no mistaking it, trouble!’” His face got a gloomy cast over it as he considered all the trouble we were likely to cause and how many reports would have to be filed and officials of the court spoken to. He clearly wasn’t a happy fey.

  His unhappiness lingered in the air and Dalia stirred uneasily. “Forgive me Lord Stormcrow,” Dalia said, “But your manner of speech is most strange and seems ill met with your aspect as an official of the Bright Kingdom. I mean no disrespect but frankly, it seems very odd to my ears.”

  “Well, that don’t surprise me much.” He sighed, “I always did have a way of putting folk of quality’s nose out of joint.” Dalia started to protest, but he held his hand up to forestall her. “No, it’s all right. It’s true that my speech is a little odd, by court standards. Part of that comes from living in the boonies for so long, but most comes from spending too much time in the Mortal realm.”

  I was surprised and showed it. I guess I shouldn’t have been. It was clear from his speech that he had spent some time in the mortal world. Apparently, it had rubbed off.

  “Yes, It’s true. I spent many years there over the centuries. I grew to quite like the place, up until World War II. Then it got a little nasty.” He sipped at his mug. “I was part of the Mortal Initiative for a couple hundred years. Some of it was bound to rub off. “ He narrowed his eyes and looked hard at me.