The Stars Never Rise (The Midnight Defenders Book 2)

by Joey Ruff

  He opened his eyes wearily and peered around. “I must have dozed,” he said. “Forgive me.” He stood and walked to the port side of the ship and stared off at the land. He watched the sheer cliff faces and exposed rock carefully. After a few minutes, he pointed to the shore, to a rather large spire of rock against the edge. “We will need to pull in there. Stay thirty feet from the shore to avoid the rocks. Tell your men to signal now.”

  Simeon rushed off to pass along the information and a moment later, a dark-skinned man stood on the bow of the ship with two white flags and began to wave them. Another man appeared from behind the spire and waved a white flag of his own in response.

  The man on shore set his flag down, shouted something, and disappeared behind the rocks. A moment later, he reappeared with three others. Between them, they sported a long, heavy bridge. They struggled against the weight and size, trying to maneuver it past the rocks, but with two of them on either side, they managed to get it to the cliff’s edge as the ship neared.

  The men slid the plank along the ground, and as they did, it inched out slowly over the water, into place over a set of wooden support beams I hadn’t noticed before, and was caught by men on our ship as we dropped anchor.

  As Petrovka neared the edge of the bridge, Simeon appeared once more. “Let us unload now,” the Russian said. Simeon nodded and disappeared towards the stern with a handful of other men.

  Petrovka moved to the bridge, and as he did, a sharply dressed man approached from the quarterdeck. “Mr. Petrovka,” he called.

  Petrovka stopped and turned to face the man with a smile. “Captain,” he said.

  The captain was a tall, thin man with a beak-shaped nose. He wore a powdered wig under his three-pointed, Continental hat and spoke in a strong, London accent. “I just wanted to extend my appreciation for chartering our ship for your voyage. I hope everything was quite pleasant?”

  “Da,” Petrovka said. “Very smooth sail.”

  “Good,” the captain said. “I believe the men are bringing your cargo now?”

  Petrovka nodded.

  “Should you need us in the future, please call on us.”

  Petrovka turned from the captain and began walking across the bridge to the shore. The plank shook a little as the wind blew, and the old Russian’s legs were not as strong as they once were. He wobbled slightly, but made it across.

  One of the four men came close and extended a hand as Petrovka neared the edge. He then escorted the man to the spire of rock where he leaned his wrinkled hand against it and told the worker, “Thank you. I forget my age sometimes. I lack the youth I once cherished so.”

  On the ship, there was a loud noise. Petrovka looked up to see four men walking onto the deck. Between them, they carried a crate maybe six-feet square. Faltering under the weight of it, the men moved frantically together, shifting side to side like a crab.

  They made it to the plank, and luckily, the bridge was wide enough for them to come across it together. Whatever was in the crate was heavy. The plank sagged and bounced under them as they moved. They got nearly to the edge of the cliff when one of the men lost his footing and stumbled backwards, falling from the bridge to the jagged rocks of the cliff below. He hit with a crunching sound and rebounded into the surf.

  It happened so suddenly, and for a moment, the three remaining crewmen held the crate perfectly still. Then a delayed reaction hit, and without thinking, one of the other men reached for their friend who had fallen. He just narrowly missed his hand and nearly stumbled over himself.

  The crate dropped from their hands, hit the rocks near the base of the plank, and cracked open.

  At first, what stood among the splintered remains looked like a camel that was only about three-feet tall.

  Petrovka stared at it.

  The animal yawned and stretched, as if waking from a sleep, and the hump in the middle of its back unraveled and stretched into two broad, feathered wings. It was then that I noticed the animal’s snout was actually a beak, and the matted, mottled hair on its face and down its neck were feathers. Its front feet were eagle’s talons. Which also meant that the rest of the body – the lean, taut musculature of its physique, its tail, its hind legs that ended in paws – didn’t belong to a camel either, but a lion. The Mohawk streak of dark brown hair that sprouted on the top of its head and trailed halfway down its neck was the beginnings of its mane.

  It was a gryphon.

  Adult gryphons grew to a height of nearly ten feet and had a wingspan larger than most small aircraft. By its small size, it was obvious what came out of the crate was young, but the doe-eyed yawn, coupled with the over-sized feet and clumsy, robotic motions, suggested it was a baby, practically newborn. No doubt it had been spirited away from its mother in the night. It would be the only way to capture one – gryphons were fierce and predatory. Due to the motion of the crate as it was unloaded and the scattering of shit pebbles around the broken remains, the crate had not been Gopher wood. Which made sense. Until a few years ago, the trees were believed extinct.

  The gryphon took a few clumsy steps while everyone watched with bated breath. Obviously, nobody had known what sort of cargo they’d borne.

  “What is it?” someone said.

  “It’s a demon,” another said.

  “It’s a gryphon,” Petrovka stated, but his words were so quiet, no one seemed to notice.

  “Make way,” came Simeon’s voice and the man approached from the ship with a length of rope.

  The men who had carried the crate still remained on the plank, and they moved to the rocks as Simeon came across. He fastened one end of the rope into a lasso, and as the gryphon stretched its wings and faced the sky, Simeon slipped the loop around its neck. It shrieked as he pulled the rope tight.

  Simeon came around in front of it and began to coax it forward, patting his knees and beckoning it with a waggling finger. Clumsily, it hobbled forward, turning its head sideways to watch the finger that squirmed in a back and forth motion. Its beak cracked open, and with a flutter of wings, it leapt at Simeon and snatched his finger with a clap.

  Simeon screamed and backed away. As he dropped the rope, Petrovka signaled to one of his men to pick it up. Reluctantly, one did, but he held it nervously and stood as far away from the creature as he could. The rope went taut and slid up the neck until it caught around the animal’s head and ruffled the feathers forward.

  Simeon stumbled over to Petrovka, clasping his hand over the place where his finger had been. Blood spurted in quick, sudden bursts. His face had gone ashen white, and the old Russian simply plucked a handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to the man. “Slow the bleeding,” he instructed. “We shall dress the wound once we tend to the beast.”

  “My finger!” Simeon shouted. “The beast took my finger! Do you not care?”

  Petrovka turned to Simeon and said, as deadpan as can be, “We have been at sea for months. We went to great lengths to steal this creature away from its mother while it was yet an egg. Would you have me just abandon it?”

  Simeon didn’t say anything at first. Blood had already soaked though the handkerchief and dripped onto his clothes. Then weakly, he said, “Are I not your friend? Should you not offer aid quickly?”

  “You are,” Petrovka said. “And without you, I would not have been able to accomplish this feat. But the mission remains the most important thing.”

  He turned away from Simeon, who leaned against the spire of rock and whimpered. The man who had taken the rope still held it firmly, and while the gryphon had gone a few paces, its forelegs had stiffened, its talons sunk into the rock. It flapped its wings backwards in a frenzy. Two other men had taken up places behind the gryphon, pushing their shoulders into its flanks and struggling to find a foothold.

  “Quickly,” Petrovka said. “We must get it into its chains.”

  Another of the men stood nearby and asked, “Will a chain hold it?”

  “The chain is silver,” Petrovka said. “It is the
metal of the Christ, of which this beast is also a symbol. It is the only thing that can hold it. The only thing that will keep the weapon safe.”

  “What use is a weapon if no one can summon it?” Simeon stammered. “If you place this beast in that cavern, the weapon will be sealed away until this beast dies.”

  “Perhaps even beyond,” Petrovka said with a knowing smile.

  “It is dangerous!” Simeon said.

  “It is necessary,” Petrovka answered. “Now, quickly, get it inside. I cannot rest until the weapon is secure.” The men struggled and pushed against the creature, and it fought against them, but in the end, they were successful.

  Petrovka walked around the spire where a wooden platform stood on wheels just behind a large horse. The workers managed to get the gryphon onto the platform and secured it with ropes.

  As the cart disappeared into the darkness of the tunnel, led along by two workers with torches and followed by four others, Petrovka stared after it. He turned to another man that stood nearby and motioned to Simeon. “Get my friend the best aid possible,” he said quietly.

  Then Petrovka turned back to the cave mouth. The horse or its cargo could no longer be seen and the torches the men carried were shrouded and dim like will-o-the-wisps.

  “It may not be in my lifetime, Veles,” Petrovka said. His voice was so quiet it was barely audible. “But I have secured your demise. And one will come along to unleash it against you.”

  31

  “Did you see anything?” Ape asked. “Did it work?”

  “Yeah, it worked. What are you talking about?”

  “Jono, you closed your eyes and then opened them again. If I blinked, I would’ve missed it.”

  “I don’t know what to tell you.”

  “Did it hurt?”

  “Not after a minute.” I looked down at my hand that still clutched the book.

  “So…what did you see?”

  “Well,” I said. “Petrovka hired a ship, a crew. He sailed over from God-knows-where with a gryphon.”

  “You got all of that in a second-long flash?”

  “It was longer for me, okay. It was actually very long.”

  Ape eyed me curiously, but said nothing. “He put the gryphon in chains?”

  “I didn’t see it, but yeah, that’s what he said. Silver chains were the only things that would hold it. He put it in place to guard the weapon.”

  “How did he get past it?”

  “I don’t know that he did,” I said. “He did mention that the gryphon might hang around even after it died. I don’t know that he knew it for certain, but…”

  “I just don’t get how you got all of that from the perspective of a book.”

  “It wasn’t…I didn’t get the book’s perspective. I got Petrovka’s.”

  “How is that possible?”

  “Not sure,” I said. “A person makes a connection of some sort when they’re in contact with certain objects. When I worked for the church, I learned a trick. I could cross over that connection to see beyond that one object into a person’s actual experiences. This was different – longer, stronger – but yeah. Something like that.”

  “Jono, that was twenty years ago. You were a lot younger and stronger then, and given what you’ve told me about your ability and all that, it makes sense that it would’ve been stronger when you worked for the church.”

  “I guess I got a recharge.”

  “From what?” he asked. “Harpy sex?”

  “Are we going to go visit Rino?”

  “You didn’t deny it.”

  “Where’s Nadia? Is she coming along?”

  “You did it, didn’t you? You actually went and slept with Kinnara.”

  “I’m not sure that’s really any of your business, mate.”

  He shook his head.

  “Where’s Nadia? Is she coming with us?” I asked again.

  “She’s out.”

  “Out where?”

  “I don’t know. Shopping or something. She’s almost nineteen. Let her have some fun.”

  “We’re in the middle of a case.”

  “It’s not her case, and she wanted to go see a movie. I didn’t see anything wrong with it.”

  “I thought you said she went shopping?”

  “She said she was going to the mall. She probably got a pretzel, too. What do you care?”

  “Alright,” I said. “Where’s DeNobb?”

  “I think he said he was going to the city. He had to pick up some things that got destroyed when his apartment went en flambé. We worked hard all morning. He deserved a break.”

  “You worked with him, huh?”

  “I did.”

  “And?”

  “He’s still having a little difficulty, but for the most part, he can summon one of his gremlins at will.”

  I nodded.

  “It only took him about four hours of steady concentration, but yeah, we did it. It’s extremely taxing on him. It might get better with experience, but he gets winded easily.”

  “Bloke like that works fucking hard, I can see why he’d need to step out with a pretty lady for a bit.”

  “They’ve been cooped up for a while. They deserved a break, and…dammit.”

  “You betrayed me, you fucking arse.”

  “It’s a date, Jono. Ease up.”

  “You let them go out together?”

  “They’re young. Things have been tense. They needed to blow off a little steam.”

  “That is the wrong fucking thing to tell a father,” I said, reaching for Grace.

  “What are you doing? You gonna shoot me? Seriously? Grow up.”

  I didn’t draw the gun.

  “Look,” he said. “I told you I’d get you back, and I did. We’re even now.”

  “How dare you?”

  “It’s a date. Dinner and a movie. You can’t get more innocent than that.”

  “We’re on the verge of a fucking war.”

  “They’ll be fine. Don’t overreact.”

  “You really don’t see anything wrong with this?”

  “No, I don’t.”

  “DeNobb was targeted by a gargoyle once already,” I said.

  “And you took care of it.”

  “That’s not the only one. Victor’s formed a militia. They’ve killed six more.”

  “Victor at the Song?” He fell silent a moment. “Fine. But it’s broad daylight right now. You know gargoyles are nocturnal.”

  “I’d feel better if they were here,” I said. “They could just rent a damn movie on cable or something.”

  “And have you hanging over their shoulder the entire time? That’s great for a budding romance.”

  “I don’t want anything to fucking bud.”

  I reached into my pocket and pulled out my cell phone.

  “What are you doing?”

  “What does it look like?”

  Ape leaped at me, grabbed the phone, and wrestled it from my hands. I fought him, but he was stronger than me.

  “They’re kids,” Ape said, sliding my phone into his pocket. “Let them be kids. This life is hard enough, I’m not letting you ruin a good moment for them.”

  “You do realize that frat boy’s probably a date rapist, right?”

  “That’s ridiculous. You’ve spent as much time with him as I have. You know that’s crap. Nadia’s growing up, Swyftt. You have to give her room to fly.” Then he added, “I think you can handle that. You seem to have a thing for girls with wings lately.”

  “Cheap shot.”

  “Take them when I can get them.” He walked to the door and took a fedora from the coat rack, placing it on his head. The charcoal grey pattern of the fabric matched his vest and slacks. He wore a pressed white shirt with grey stripes, open at the neck with the sleeves rolled. On his feet, he wore his toe shoes.

  “That’s how you’re going?” I asked.

  “What’s wrong with it?”

  I sighed. “Nothing, but at least grab your bloo
dy sword.”

  “You think we’ll need it?”

  “You do remember I have a sodding troll chasing me, right? Better to have and not need.”

  He nodded.

  “I’ve gotta grab something from my room,” I said.

  “What’s that?”

  “I’ll just meet you at the car.”

  “Alright.”

  I went down to the basement and moved to my chest of drawers. I opened the top one, shuffled the rolls of socks to the side, and pulled out a small ring box. I snapped it open and saw the small silver band that widened at the top into a circle. In the middle was an engraved six-pointed star: a triangle joined with an inverted triangle. I snapped the box shut, changed into some fresh clothes, and headed upstairs.

  Ape waited for me in the parking lot. He stood next to his new Renault convertible, and in his hand was an ebony walking stick engraved with white Japanese characters along its length. The head of the cane was an eagle’s talon that clutched a yin-yang symbol medallion.

  “Ready?” he asked.

  “Pop your trunk.”

  I moved to the El Camino and opened the tool box. I grabbed Glory and plenty of extra clips. I took a shoebox full of ammo for Grace, strapped my Glocks to my belt and grabbed the Mossberg. I also grabbed my Kevlar vest. Then I loaded it all into his trunk.

  “I wouldn’t bring all that shit to Rino’s,” he said. “He’ll think you’re trying to threaten him. His intentions may be pure, but he’s still Mafia trained. You don’t want to insult him.”

  “Yada, yada,” I said. “Would you relax? I’m throwing it in the trunk.” I set the Mossberg on top of Glory to keep her company, but I kept Grace and the twins. I shut the trunk and climbed in the passenger side. “One hunter to another, I think Rino can understand the need to pack heat.”

  He looked over at me and saw the ring box. “Are you kidding?”

  “What?”

  “You’ve kept it hidden for the last year. What are you doing with it?”

  “It might come in handy.”

  “Jono,” he said. “Nothing good can come from your using it.”

  “Look,” I said. “When we get a bead on the gargoyle hive, Crestmohr’s gonna drop off the bonnacon. I thought maybe I could use the damn ring to control it like Brom did with Elensal.”