Loch, who had the gift of the Sight, watched Dräng’s blindingly fast progress through the earth until the little tomte disappeared under the horizon. For the first time in his life, Loch prayed a blessing over the life and safety of a monster.
He was still praying, long after he went to bed that night. He prayed for his team of Monster Hunters.
The next morning was a sad sight. Loch and the families of the Monster Hunters were gathered in the tiny hangar, dawn still a handful of hours away. The Monster Hunters were gathered groggily, with bedhead and many dark-circled eyes. Their parents fared no better, but each wanted to see their child off. There was a sense that no one, not even Loch, was going to actually let them get on the plane.
As for the plane itself, it was a ramshackle thing, and Chen and Priest examined it with more than a little confusion.
Although there were many of them, the Monster Hunters across the world did not make a dent in the world’s population, and although a few Monster Hunters were well off financially, money was a shared and often sought after commodity. In order to save money, wealthy Hunters had bought and placed private jets across the continents; just base model jets that got you from place to place, nothing too fancy.
There were private and hidden hangars at which they could land. This, of course, helped when you had crossbows, swords, and eccentric, salt-spewing guns in your carry-on luggage.
“I don’t understand,” Priest told Chen. “This is supposed to fly? How?”
Chen shook his head, just as befuddled. “The wings look too small. I don’t know if their flapping will keep this plane-bird thing up. Are you sure you should be doing that?”
Priest stopped banging on the side of the metal beast. “What? Listen. This tail is hollow.”
“The entire thing is hollow,” Derrick said, walking up from behind them. “And the wings don’t flap. I don’t know how I made it here without falling out of the sky.”
“The wings don’t flap?” asked Chen, scratching his chin. “What type of bird doesn’t flap its wings?”
Mrs. Sullivan looked between her son and the three men as they continued to bang and kick at the plane. “They’re supposed to be your chaperones?” she whispered.
Charlie began to explain, but just nodded his head and shrugged.
Chinook slapped Nash on the back. “You’re doing a great thing, son.”
Nina elbowed her husband in the ribs.
“What was that for?” asked Chinook.
“What your father is saying is that we’re proud of you,” she said.
Nash grinned at them both. “Thanks, guys.”
“I’ll be fine, mom!” said Darcy as her mother hugged her for the fortieth time.
Elizabeth blinked away a tear. “You better be!” She slid a scrap of notebook paper into her daughter’s jacket pocket and then held Darcy back by the shoulders, smiling.
Darcy smiled back, hiding her own tears, and then looked at her father. Mayor Witherington was a blubbering mess as he stumbled forward. “Keep yourself safe and clean, Darcy! Most of all safe!”
“I will, Daddy.”
A few feet away, Lisa opened her mouth, wishing she could tell her parents what she hoped to accomplish, but she couldn’t. Just in case she was wrong. Instead she held them both tightly and told them she loved them before disappearing into the plane.
Charlie, watching her, felt a hand ruffle his hair and turned back to his parents.
“She’s cute,” Mrs. Sullivan said with a wink.
“Mom. No.”
Mr. Sullivan laughed, although there was a hesitant sadness in it. “Go get the bad guys, kiddo. We’ll see you when you get back.”
Charlie nodded and smiled, trying to push the question out of his mind—the question that was on everybody’s mind: would they come back?
“Time to go,” Loch called at the foot of the plane’s steps. Charlie nodded and walked up, Loch following him to the door. Priest, Chen, and Derrick squeezed past them.
“I won’t be there to hold your hand,” Loch said, once inside the plane. “Remember what you’ve learned and listen—for goodness sake, try listening?—to Priest and Chen. And most importantly, come back here. If you ever have listened to anything I’ve said to you, listen to that one. Come back to Hunter’s Grove.”
He nodded, and they nodded back, somberly.
“Godspeed,” said Loch, closing the door.
“Back for more, eh?” said a man who had already been inside the plane, grinning at Derrick. It took the Hunters a second to realize he was their captain.
“I wish I didn’t have to,” said Derrick miserably. “Believe me. If men were meant to fly, God would have given—”
“Son, save it. If I had a nickel for every time I heard that phrase, I would be rich. And considering how many times I’ve heard it without a single crash in all my years, I think we’ll be alright.” He smiled reassuringly, but Derrick had already resigned himself to a seat, as the others were trying to find their own.
“Welcome aboard everyone. Thanks for choosing Monster Hunters Airlines as your transportation across the seas,” he announced facetiously. “Unfortunately, we don’t have movies or newfangled airplane TVs. We don’t have three course meals or soda pops, or even any peanuts. We do have seatbelts, or at least we did last time I checked, so feel free to make use of them and sit tight, unless you want to partake of our non-refundable skydiving lessons. Also, I hope you did your business earlier, because there is no bathroom on this bird either. Have a nice flight!” He smiled and disappeared into the cockpit, leaving his passengers in a world of concern. The jet took off, leaving the stomachs of first time fliers behind, and the Monster Hunters were on their way.
The flight wasn’t so bad. It was a smooth enough ride, if bland. The younger passengers spent much of their time looking out the window to the land stretched out like a map below, while the older passengers had their eyes glued to the ceiling as if in prayer. They stopped once in upstate New York to refuel, and then it was nothing but water below for hours. After some time, most of them fell asleep.
Only a few of them stayed awake, including Charlie. He stared at the clouds next to him dispassionately, wishing for a moment that he could be a bird. Then he wouldn’t have to worry about any of this. But deep down, even the thought was dissatisfying. Their path was not an easy one, but Charlie felt a sort of happiness—a completeness—with his friends.
Suddenly, a flash of black eyes glared at him from the window. They were accompanied by an ethereal face, smiling knowingly. The Sagemistress.
Charlie fell back into the seat next to him, but it was only a glimpse of a reflection on the glass. He looked next to him, but there was nothing inside the cabin, either. Was it a hallucination, or a warning?
And although it had looked like the Sagemistress, that didn’t seem right. The eyes were black, and there was a deeper evil in them. This was something else.
Across the aisle, Lisa was watching him. She had seen him jump, watched him search the jet’s cabin with his eyes full of fear. Lines of red slowly dispersed at the corners of those eyes, a sure sign of the Sight.
“What is it?” she asked, immediately drilling into him. “What did you see?”
“Nothing,” said Charlie, staring at the seat cushion in front of him. “I didn’t see anything. I just dozed off, I guess.”
She jabbed a finger at him. “Don’t give me that, Charlie Sullivan. I know when—”
The jet shook fiercely, and the lights sputtered until they went out.
“What’s happening?” yelled Priest from the front. Derrick was screaming a mix of English, Gaelic, and frightened jabberwock.
A voice came in over loud speakers, calm and reassuring. “Just a bit of turbulence. Please remain calm. This is normal.”
“This is not bloody normal!” Priest screamed at
the ceiling, but calmed down nonetheless.
The Monster Hunters and their companions all sat gripping the seats, waiting for the little jet to even back out. The lights sputtered back on and the cabin felt like it began to descend.
Lisa returned her attention to Charlie. “What did you see?”
“I told you it wasn’t anything.”
“The last time,” she hissed. “The last time you didn’t think it was anything…”
Lisa couldn’t finish the sentence, but she didn’t have to.
“It was nothing like that,” he said quietly, unable to meet her eyes. “I won’t make that mistake a second time.”
She stared at him until he could feel her glare on the side of his head, ignoring her own eyes burning. He didn’t look back.
The world grew dark outside; an entire day seemed to have gone by in eight hours. They could hardly see the land below when they finally arrived in the Old Country, landing with a brain jarring thud. At first, they all thought the plane had crashed. Then came the words, “And here we are in Ireland, the beautiful county of Clare! Thanks again for flying Monster Hunter Airlines.”
The air was damp, the early moon shining through the thin fog, reminding them all of why they were here. The pilot said his goodbyes with a tired smile.
“I don’t know what business you’ve got here, but I imagine it has to do with that witch town. May God have mercy on you. I hope you find whatever you’re after.” He paused somberly, then grinned. “Now, I’m off for some mash before my stomach starts chewing itself.”
Something jarred itself in Charlie’s mind, sending a pain through his right eye. For some reason, his eyes scrunched closed and he saw Dräng’s face. The little monster was mouthing something.
Finally, Charlie made out what Dräng was trying to say. Danger.
Charlie looked up and reached out his hand for the man who had flown them here, as he exited the hangar.
The pilot had barely walked out the door when they saw the flash of brown fur pass the door and Darcy yelped. They heard a bone-crunching thump as a body was tackled. Outside, the pilot screamed, but it was cut short by a sickening wet sound.
“Ohmigosh,” said Darcy.
“We have to help him,” cried Nash.
But then the wolf was at the door. It clawed at them, long fingers grasping the air just feet in front of them.
Suddenly they were all struggling with their bags, trying to find their weapons. The wolf squeezed its mass through the door frame, its long tongue dancing over its lips and teeth, still stained from the pilot. Barely through the doorframe, it lunged and the Hunters were not ready.
From behind the group, a battle cry was let loose and Priest charged, a large sword in hand. The beast avoided the first swing easily, and smacked Priest away with the back of its paw, sending him flying. Before the wolf could continue, though, a silver spike shot halfway into its chest. The back half of the weapon stuck out, and was attached to a rope which, the younger Hunters saw, was held by Chen.
The wolf howled, wheeling towards Chen and glaring at him with murder in its red eyes. The hesitation was just enough time for Priest to stand up where he was positioned, behind the wolf. He swung his sword and it landed solidly in the wolf’s neck, where it stuck. The beast twisted away, releasing a spray of black-red from its neck. It leapt forward, teeth bared, claws spread out to rake and tear. Priest swung again, meeting the wolf’s momentum, roughly decapitating it as the head and body flew past Priest harmlessly.
“You’ll have to forgive us,” said Priest as the head rolled off into the corner. “We’re a bit rusty.”
The younger Hunters gave a collective sigh.
“I think I can forgive that,” said Nash, impressed and trying to hide his earlier fear.
Lisa melted to the floor. She was surprised to have already seen a wolf, just minutes into Ireland.
A howl went up from outside. Remembering the pilot, the group of Monster Hunters ran out the door just in time to see a smaller wolf running away.
“A scout,” said Chen. “They will know we are coming.”
“No,” said Charlie, watching the wolf go with his blood red eyes. “They knew already. They’ve already started to hunt us.”
A large van drove up to the hangar, swerving towards the wolf, then away. It stopped abruptly, and a young girl with pale hair jumped from the driver’s seat and ran to them.
“Is he alive?” she asked, pointing to the downed pilot.
Darcy and Nash were already with him, trying to find a pulse. The man’s chest looked as though a bowling ball had been dropped on it. His face was smeared with blood from three ragged slashes on his cheek. A chunk of his left shoulder was missing completely.
“Just barely,” said Darcy. “I don’t think he’s going to make it.”
“He’ll make it!” said the new girl, her accent thickening with determination. “My house is not far from here. Someone help me get him into the van.”
“Lass,” Priest said, touching her shoulder, “you could do him more damage just by moving him.”
“Do you have a better idea? My grandmum can help him, but we have to act fast!”
Priest sighed. “Alright. Nash, Charlie, get his legs. Chen and I will support his torso. We need to keep him as level as possible. Don’t let his body shift any more than it needs to.”
The pale girl rushed to the van, opening the double back doors and lowering the rear seats. She laid out a sheet and took her jacket off to provide the dying pilot some sort of comfort.
“What did this to him?” she asked as they slid the pilot into the van. Priest, Chen, and Darcy tried to flatten him out and cushion him so the bumpy road would not shift him around too much.
“That did,” said Charlie when his hands were free, pointing to the hangar’s doorway, through which the headless body of the wolf could be seen. His eyes were just fading back to normal following the encounter with the wolf, and the girl gasped.
“Sorry,” he said, looking away “I know they freak people out.”
“No,” she said. “It’s just, not many people have the Sight. I’ve only known two people with that gift, and they’re both skilled Hunters.”
Charlie looked away, not comfortable with being compared to other Hunters probably much more powerful than him.
“Another wolf,” said the girl as she stared at the body.
“You see faoladh often?” asked Lisa, speaking up for the first time since they had left Hunter’s Grove.
“They aren’t faoladh! They’re just wolves that she created. True faoladh were guardians, protectors. Her wolves are cursed. A disgrace to this land.”
“Lass!” called Priest. “He is in. Let’s go.”
They were now thankful to have packed so light. The girl and the Hunters piled into the van unceremoniously, with Chen and Nash staying in the very back to stabilize the pilot. The man had woken up, and they were trying their best to keep him from slipping back into unconsciousness, where comfort and death awaited him.
The van took off into the fog. There was silence fueled by terror and motion sickness as the girl drove, speeding through the blinding mist and dodging the frequent trees.
“My name is Aisling,” said the girl. “My grandmum sent me to make sure you arrived safe. I only wish I had gotten there sooner. What are your names?”
With Chen and Nash focused on the man, and Charlie and Lisa both lost in their own worlds of thought, Darcy took lead.
“My name is Darcy Witherington. That’s Nash and Chen back there, this is Priest, this is Charlie, and this is Lisa.”
“And I’m Derrick,” said the messenger, sitting in the passenger seat, his hands clawing the seat with each swerve of the van.
Aisling nodded at each name, but never took her eyes off the road.
“You are the one who rod
e out from Drakauragh?” she asked Derrick.
“Yes.”
“I heard you barely made it through.”
“The wolves gave chase without stop. My horse died. It is a miracle I got to the hangar in one piece.”
“And they knew where to wait for your return.”
He lapsed into silence, looking ashamed.
Aisling looked over, realizing the man’s sense of guilt.
“It wasn’t your fault. The wolves are vicious hunters, and they plan ahead.”
“Have the wolves always been a problem?” asked Lisa from the back seat, a cloud over her brow.
Aisling replied slowly, as if deciding how she should say it. “Yes and no. There are stories of wolves that once protected us, but they turned long ago and became a blight on the land. Then they disappeared altogether.”
“And they returned? When?”
Aisling looked at Lisa in the mirror. “As I understand it, right after you conquered the Dark Prince.”
Lisa’s breath caught in her throat. She turned away, looking out the window into the nothingness of the fog.
“I know what you’re thinking,” whispered Charlie. “You can’t hope that he’s still alive.”
“That’s all I can do,” Lisa snapped under her breath. “Hope!”
“And if he is still alive then? What condition could he be in? Do you really want to know?”
Lisa gave him a look to sour milk and they both gave up on the conversation. In the mirror, Aisling cocked a perplexed eyebrow. When she looked back at the road, an ugly, mostly hairless thing with big ears and even bigger eyes stood in the road, its hands outstretched. She squealed, the van swerving dangerously.
“Wait,” Lisa called as Aisling started to speed away from the creature. “He’s one of ours.”
When Aisling gave her a look as if to say are you insane, Lisa shook her head. “Just stop the car, would you?”
Charlie Sullivan and the Monster Hunters: Witch Moon Page 4