Birthright - Book 2 of the Legacy Series (An Urban Fantasy Novel)

by Ryan Attard

21

  “Erik,” I heard Gil say. “Are you calm?”

  My blood was still boiling from Crowley’s comment. My jaw was clenched so tight I could feel my joints creaking. My arms ached, and I clenched the morning star so tightly my knuckles were white. I stared at the spot where I knew the… whatever we were supposed to fight, would appear.

  “Yeah,” I heard myself mutter.

  Behind me, Gil shifted, ready to start her usual spell-casting bombardment. “We need to avoid frontal confrontation with this monster. It’s a Baku, a dream eater. It induces dreams and hallucinations before mauling you and eating you alive. Avoid getting caught in the gas it emits from its mouth.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Erik?”

  “Yeah.”

  I heard her sigh. “What’s two plus two?”

  “Yeah.”

  More sighing. “Just don’t die, okay?”

  “Yeah.”

  The door expelled a plume of gas and a loud hiss, like a door in a cheap science fiction movie. The first thing I heard was a loud thump, then the click of nails on the steel floor. One thump after the other, shuddering the entire structure. I heard a loud exhalation of air, as if a low trumpet was blowing. A monstrous shadow covered the entire entrance.

  I distinctly heard flapping, like a flag in a weak wind. The smoke was soon blown away, and the Baku stood there in its full monstrous glory.

  The creature was as rare a find as one could hope for. It stood on all fours, nearly seven feet tall. This must have been a young one since it wasn’t uncommon for them to reach up to ten feet. It looked like a cheap attempt at a chimera – its thin legs were covered in striped fur like a tiger’s, ending with disproportionately wide paws. Black, curved claws extended from the paws, leaving thin scratch marks on the floor. Its body was barrel-shaped and long, with angular ribs jutting from beneath the skin, orange and tan fur covering it, giving the creature a hypnotic appearance. But the head was by far the scariest part. It was disproportionate to the rest of the body, almost as large as the torso of the creature. Small, elephantine ears were gently flapping at the side of its head. A large trunk snaked in front of its face. Two straight black tusks were parallel to the trunk, one on each side, positioned perfectly to skewer whatever the Baku caught in its grip. Its eyes were pools of black ink and located on the side of the head, like a bird or a fish.

  Whenever it moved, the stripes around its body messed with your eyes, making you lose focus. The ear flapping didn’t help either. It swayed from side to side, as if it were some kind of monstrous, hypnotic watch.

  “Erik, don’t look at it too much,” I heard Gil say. She had her head angled, keeping track of the monster from her peripheral vision. Her hand moved quickly, setting alight a small bundle of tweed. Good thinking. If this monster attacked with gas, why not see if it was flammable?

  “Yeah, I kind of figured that one out already,” I replied as I hoisted my mace and turned it to reflect the monster on the spherical, polished surface.

  “Good, now remember, don’t get caught in the gas. I need just a few minutes, so distract – Erik, wait!”

  I took off in a sprint toward the monster. Gil was correct in taking precautions, but there was one thing she could never understand. I was invincible. I mean, seriously, what would you call someone who, despite shooting, stabbing and ripping him apart, still doesn’t die? That was me. I survived every sadistic game Mephisto threw at me. What could this giant sausage-looking ball of fur do to me that Mephisto hadn’t? I was faster, stronger, and I could recover from anything. I had slain monsters that would drive any sane person to jump from the tallest building, and I had beaten them hands down. I had survived - I had won. And I would do the same over and over again.

  Until I got to Crowley. Until I could drive a knife between his ribs and force him to tell me what he knew about my mother. Because here’s the thing about powerful people — without a goal, they are simply powerful.

  But when driven by something, they become titans. I had to get the answers, but now I could see that Mephisto was right. I knew it from the moment I shook his hand; I was no match for Crowley. I needed power, and if killing this dopey-looking tapir was going to help me, then so be it.

  I ran toward it. The Baku reared its head up and swiped with one paw. It was faster than it looked. But not fast enough.

  I ducked beneath the oversized paw, letting the momentum of my run take me as I skidded on my knees under the creature and swung the morning star at its leg. Bone cracked and the Baku yelped. It hopped to the right and swiped its claws at me again. I dodged and spun, swinging my weapon around to catch another leg.

  But I had underestimated the Baku. There is a general rule of thumb when dealing with monsters – the smaller they are, the smarter they are.

  I noticed it too late: that glib intelligence in those wide, stupid eyes. I found nothing when I swung the heavy mace and the momentum carried me forwards. There was nothing I could do when the trunk wrapped around me and a large puff of gas shot straight into my face. There was no warning or feelings of grogginess. It was as if someone had flipped off the switch.

  I could regenerate from this, was my only thought, before I blacked out and proved that I wasn’t as invincible as I thought I was.

  ***

  At first, there was quiet.

  I stood in my father’s study, sitting on the exact same couch as I did five years ago when my world changed forever. The same fire roared beneath the mantelpiece and the same desk was cluttered with so many books. It was a librarian’s wet dream.

  I heard a voice whispering my name softly.

  “Erik.” I knew that voice. I dreamt it so many times in my life, I’d lost count.

  “Erik.” There it was again. The ethereal tone that made me linger an extra few minutes in bed just to hover subconsciously inside the remnants of a dream. A dream where she was alive and well, always smiling, always embracing, and always loving.

  “Erik.”

  Her form solidified and she stood in front of me. The room changed, and furniture disappeared until nothing but blackened stone remained. It was just myself and this beautiful creature. She wore her hair long with strands of light brown gently whipping her face. She had big, emerald-green eyes. Her features were perfect; even the most skilled photographer and Photoshop editor couldn’t create such immaculate perfection.

  Hugging her ethereal form was a white robe that hugged her frame and flapped gently in a breeze coming from nowhere.

  “Erik,” she said as her lips widened into a smile and her eyes glittered with the beginnings of a teardrop.

  I stared at her for what seemed like hours, too stunned to speak. She was here. I had only imagined her in my dreams, but she was never this real. She looked as if I could touch her, as if I could hug her. I wanted to feel the warmth coming from her as her gentle arms curled around me.

  “Mom.” My voice was broken and I could feel tears streaking down my cheek. With effort, I tore my eyes from her and looked at the distance between us. A few feet — just a few feet separating me from my mother. I took a step forward, then another, and then another. I kept my eyes fixed on my mother. I wanted to burn her image in my brain forever.

  I kept walking forward but she remained far from me. No matter the distance I crossed, I couldn’t reach her. I extended my hand, trying desperately to grab hold of her. Perhaps if she extended her own arm, she could pull me toward her.

  “Mom,” I cried as I reached towards her. She closed her eyes and her tears doubled.

  “Erik, my son. My firstborn. I love you so much. I wish I could have held you and your sister once before I left. I love you both so much, my sweet child.”

  “Mom?”

  What she said sounded a lot like a eulogy. Like she was about to leave again. I doubled my efforts, running like a madman.

  She couldn’t leave us — me — again. She just couldn’t. Her presence would have made everything better. If I could only see her at
the end of a horrible, nightmarish day, it would make everything a hundred times better. She was here now. Why would she leave?

  “I’m sorry, my son,” she said. Then she smiled, making her green eyes shine brilliantly against her tears. Or, perhaps, she was just that radiant.

  “We will meet again, Erik. And when you join me, I’ll make up for all the times I made you cry. I am so sorry. But I will always watch over you and Gil. Always.”

  Before I could utter a syllable, the room spiraled.

  I saw my mom enter a black, lacquered coffin and lie inside it. She lay too still to describe as peaceful. I don’t know why people describe dead people as peaceful. They are dead. There is no peace in death — there’s nothing in death. That’s why it’s called ‘death’. I watched my sister sleep in a cave once. Her figure was exactly like Mom’s, with only her white-blond hair hinting at the genes of our other ancestors. She slept as I kept watch for whatever was out to hunt us that day. The way she curled on the ground, how her chest heaved, and the way her face relaxed and displayed something other than concern and fear for the first time that day - that was peaceful.

  My mother was dead.

  I saw my father approach the coffin and mark the sides with sigils and signs. I saw Crowley emerge from the shadows and caress my dead mother’s face with one long finger.

  I screamed at them to back away from her. Dad ignored me completely, but Crowley looked up and smiled very deliberately.

  The room spun again, and I found myself suspended, my arms outstretched. A thick cord tied me to a length of wood and held me above the ground. Next to me, I saw a similar structure holding Gil in place. Her head hung downwards, and she looked like she was passed out.

  I screamed and yelled. I have no idea what I said or in what language. I just know that my throat burned every time I spoke. I saw my dad take out a large knife. It looked like a spearhead with a ring for a cross-guard and a leather-wrapped handle. There was nothing impressive about the knife, and yet, I could feel waves of oppressive power emanating from it.

  The symbols on my mother’s coffin glowed azure, and so did the blade. With a wicked smile, Dad flicked the blade once and plunged it straight into Gil.

  “NO!”

  I struggled violently, ignoring the cuts I gave myself against the rope and the joints I was popping.

  Dad extracted the blade and came in front of me. His eyes glinted with lust and desire. He placed the tip of the blade at the center of my chest and pushed. I tried crying out in pain, but it was like my body had been switched off. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move, and couldn’t scream. My father grabbed the hilt and pushed it even further in. Leaving the blade inside me, he simply let go and walked away.

  As I felt darkness take me, I forced one eye open. I saw the lights dimming on my mother’s coffin and Crowley still there. He beamed at me and reached inside the coffin. He grabbed my mother by the hair and hoisted her up. Removing his fedora and unbuttoning the first button on his shirt, his jaws snapped wide open, revealing a series of mismatched fangs. With a growl, he clamped his jaws against my mother’s neck, shoulder and chest, and savagely began tearing out chunks of flesh.

  I watched my mother being ripped apart by a monster as my father calmly walked away and became one with the faraway darkness before everything dissolved into an obsidian void.

  ***

  I floated in a sea of red sand. Above me, and all around me, mangrove roots spiraled into each other, creating an intricate network of flora.

  “Change it.” The voice seemed to boom from inside my head.

  “That is your future, Erik Ashendale. Do not let it be so.”

  All around me, the mangroves tightened, forming a cocoon around me.

  “Do not let it be so, my heir. Change it. Seize the power.” The mangrove cocoon tightened around me. I expected suffocation and constriction. Instead, I felt comfort and power.

  “Crowley,” I said. “Is it real? Is what I saw real?”

  “Every dream is a shard of reality,” boomed the voice.

  “Give me power,” I growled. “Give me more power. Give me the power to destroy him and anyone who hurts my sister and me. Give me the power to destroy everything.”

  “Yes.”

  ***

  The first thing I felt was heat. Instinctively, my body jerked in motion, and I found myself running toward a wall. My sister unleashed her power, and a large carpet of flame covered the entire floor. The Baku leapt and twisted in midair, its claws extended. I saw its trajectory clearly. It would land on Gil and skewer her like a kebab. She was too weak to dodge and the carpet-bombing left her with little space to move.

  I placed one foot on the wall, then another. The momentum carried me about six steps up the wall before I shot myself toward my sister. She had her arms covering her head, and I heard her shrill screams from far away. Still holding the mace, I landed in front of Gil, who was still crouched, and swung the morning star like a baseball bat. The spiked ball met the monster’s head and sent it flying across the room. Gil’s fire spell had extinguished by then. The Baku crashed into the opposite wall, leaving a sizable dent.

  I heard something clang against the steel ground and looked at my weapon. The morning star lay shattered into a million fragments. Dropping the useless handle, I ran toward the monster in a frenzy. I had no control over my actions. I just wanted to destroy that monster. I wanted my mother back. I wanted to protect Gil from harm.

  Those thoughts guided my actions.

  I saw the paw arcing toward my head and my arm rose to counter it. The monster howled as the paw snapped in two. I grabbed its underbelly.

  “Where’s my mother?” I screamed at it. The monster bellowed in agony and swiped its remaining paws at me. They struck me, but as soon as my flesh tore open, my magic healed it. I regenerated so fast that my brain didn’t even have the time to send pain signals throughout my body. The Baku was not as fortunate; its paws were broken and twisted beyond healing, as if I caused the monster damage just by touching it.

  “Where is she?” I screamed again, clawing at its stomach and ripping the flesh apart. With an almighty, feral roar, I tore the monster’s stomach open, sending bits of gore flying. I pulled flesh out, hoping to see something, anything, that might lead me back to my vision to correct it. I would kill Crowley and Dad. I would heal Gil and resurrect my mother. Then, we would live a happy goddamned life like we deserved.

  But the Baku had nothing. It lay motionless as I dissected it mercilessly.

  “WHERE IS SHE?”

  I abandoned the stomach and hopped on its head.

  “Give me my mother back,” I yelled as I began pounding it furiously. I have no idea how long I stayed there, punching and hitting the elephantine skull. I have no idea how long Gil screamed at me, or when the room descended back into the Zoo.

  I felt a sharp smack on the back of my head and turned to face my new enemy. I made feral sounds that no human should be able to make.

  Gil stood behind me, her eyes wide with fear. She held her hands in front of her, still in position after shooting out a wind spell.

  “Erik?” she managed to say.

  I stood up and suddenly my head cleared. I looked at the Baku carcass and nearly threw up. The monster was a raw mass of splintered bone and ravaged flesh. Its face was mush, the head nearly caved in. Its stomach lay inside out, with bits of intestine dangling from the gaping hole running along the length of its underbelly.

  I looked at my hands. Blood covered them all the way to the elbow. I saw bone on my hand and tried to flick it away with disgust, but it just wouldn’t leave. Only when I tried picking the bone with my fingers did I realize that it was actually my bone. My knuckles protruded from beneath the skin, hardening into smooth, white calluses.

  Black tendrils, like billows of gas, clung to my body.

  Slowly, as my head cleared, I saw the bone protrusions shrink back into my hand. Skin immediately covered the wounds and I felt only a sli
ght sting. The black tendrils surrounding me dissipated and all that remained was a dark outline, like a living shadow.

  I heard Mephisto approach from behind.

  “That was certainly an interesting display of pow–”

  I swung my fist into him in a hammer fist strike. The soft underside of my fist connected with him and sent him flying across the Zoo. The demon crashed into a table and broke several glass beakers, showering him with chemicals that sizzled and combusted.

  Gil gasped. No one had ever landed a hit on Mephisto. We grew up thinking he was invincible, a monster beyond our grasp. And yet, without thinking and without planning, I managed to send him flying with one blow.

  Mephisto stood up, clutching his arm. He must have blocked at the last moment to prevent serious damage. His arm was bent in three different angles. He got to his feet and stared at me for a full minute.

  “How about now?” I asked him. We both knew what I was talking about.

  Crowley. He had to be destroyed. I had no proof against him, save for a vision and some chills down my spine, but I knew it, deep inside my heart — inside my very soul — that he was a monster that must be destroyed.

  Mephisto’s expression changed to a sadistic smile as he grabbed his arm and twisted it back in place. It hung uselessly by his side.

  “Yes,” was all he said.

  And it was all I needed.

  22

  Mephisto escorted us to our bedrooms in complete silence and left us there. He hadn’t said a single word after the incident at the Zoo; it was business as usual as far as he was concerned. Gil kept asking me what was wrong. My expression must have been a dead giveaway to someone who knew me as well as she did.

  I told her nothing.

  What could I tell her, really? How would I even phrase it?

  “Hey, sis. Remember our dad and the creepy guy with him? Yeah, I just had a vision and saw them mutilating our dead mother and killing us. So, right about now, I’m thinking of killing them before they kill us. I have no proof, by the way, but after hugging some imaginary tree roots, I seem to have awakened powers that not even our millennia-old demonic teacher can begin to understand. So, I’m gonna listen to them, because good old-fashioned logic stopped working about five years ago.”