Charlie Sullivan and the Monster Hunters: Witch Moon

by D. C. McGannon

  A giant golem stood before them, twenty feet tall and made out of things already long dead and never allowed to pass on. A Construct that was more potent and grotesque than other Constructs even Priest or Maurie had witnessed before. It was angry, sad, and confused, and as far as the Hunters knew, couldn’t be rightly killed.

  Nash looked at Darcy. “Now what?”

  “Are you sure it’s this way?” asked Aisling.

  Lisa rolled her eyes. “Yes. This is west, exactly. It would be nice if we had Dräng here. He could run ahead.”

  Charlie thought about telling her that he had sent Dräng back to Hunter’s Grove, but decided against it. She didn’t need anything else to worry about…

  “Where is Dräng, anyway? Did he stay with the others?”

  …or not.

  Charlie could see Aisling glance at him from his peripheral.

  “No,” he said. “He came with us. I sent him to check on Loch.”

  Lisa frowned, not understanding. “You sent Dräng to the other side of the world just to check in?”

  “There was a witch,” Aisling said, trying to help Charlie.

  Lisa gave her a cold look, but Aisling didn’t pay it any mind.

  “She threatened your home.”

  Lisa looked from Aisling to Charlie, who nodded.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked.

  “We have enough to deal with here. Let Dräng and Loch take care of things back home.”

  As Lisa opened her mouth to respond, Aisling’s arm shot out, pointing to something in front of them.

  “Is that it?” she asked.

  The three of them rushed forward, finally at the end of the forest. They peeked through brush and thicket at a large hill made of stone, a gaping hole there at its front. It was a cave. At its mouth, a lone wolf paced back and forth, its coat a dusty brown in the rising daylight. Between the forest and the cave, there was quite a distance, and no cover.

  “That’s it,” said Lisa, breathless. “The wolves’ den. Liev is inside that rock.”

  “But how do we get inside?” asked Aisling. “If that wolf spots us, it will call the rest of the pack out. There would be no way for us to get through all of them.”

  “That’s what you think,” said Lisa. Twisting down both arms, black tendrils of energy began to writhe and squirm, bunching up and quivering around Lisa’s clenched fists. “I won’t be stopped.”

  Charlie put a hand on her shoulder. “Hang on, Lisa. Let’s think this through.” His withdrew his hand when a thin black tendril wrapped around it, burning the skin.

  “The boy’s right,” said someone, causing them all to jump. “These wolves are smart. You can’t just run at them with a grudge.”

  They turned around to find the young woman who had promised them help earlier…or at least, they thought it was at first. Although dressed in the same midnight cloak and red scarf, this woman was old enough to be the mother of any of the three young Hunters.

  “Who are you, and what do you want?” demanded Charlie.

  “Never mind that,” said the woman. “I told you I’d lend a helping hand, and it looks like you could use one now.”

  “What’s in it for you to help us?” asked Lisa.

  The woman raised her chin in thought. “Let us just say that I will not allow the Sagemistress to harm Drakauragh. And as you are already riding out to meet her, I consider you allies.”

  She leaned in close to Lisa.

  “I know what that cave holds for you, dearest. Someone close to you. I want to help you. And with time, beast, and magic set against you, you need some help.”

  Charlie shook his head, but Lisa ignored him.

  “Alright,” she said. “How do you plan to help us?”

  Charlie and Aisling shared a worried glance. Nothing good could come of asking a witch’s help, could it?

  The woman smiled, turning back to the cave. “Watch a bit longer. To the east of here, your friends battle one of the Sagemistress’ underlings, Carman. The wolves have already made plans in case Carman fails to kill them.”

  “That horrid witch?” Aisling exclaimed. She thought of her grandmother. “The same one that visited us? Can they beat her?”

  “Time will tell, dear one. When we are through here, you three can make haste northeast to find your friends, whatever state they may be in.”

  As she spoke, a chorus of howls and yips came from within the cave. The Hunters and the witch watched as what looked like the entire pack came rushing from the cave mouth. The three teens shivered at the size and ferocious speed of the wolves as they ran east in a flurry of russet, brown, and grey. As they watched, the wolves disappeared into tall grasses, trees or hills, stalking through the countryside more like ghosts than mere animals. In a matter of minutes, they vanished from sight.

  “That should make things easier,” said Lisa.

  The witch smiled. “Indeed. As will this,” she said, taking off her red scarf. “Wait for the sentry wolf to fall, then run to their lair. Be as quick as you can, you don’t want to get stuck inside for long.”

  As she spoke, she stroked the scarf as one would pet a cat. It wriggled in her hand, curling around her arm and hissing. The Hunters watched as the scarlet snake that was a scarf fell into the grass, noting its sharp, triangular head and yellow eyes. Their eyes caught it once or twice as it slithered off towards the cave, but it disappeared in the field’s tall grasses before long.

  They waited for several minutes. Then, without warning, the wolf jumped into the air as if frightened. It swiped and snapped at the ground, but it was too late. The wolf limped away, its body convulsing, head shaking wildly back and forth. In a matter of seconds it was dead.

  “Now, children,” said the witch, who was no longer in sight. “Run along. Be fast!”

  Aisling shivered as Charlie and Lisa took off. Breaking rules, working with witches—this was not what she had imagined for a Hunter’s life. She sprinted behind them, trying to keep up, always a few feet behind.

  They were silent as they neared the cave, the only sound the crunching of cold grass under their feet. They stopped to glance at the dead wolf, whose body lay withering away, two ruby marks prominent on its neck.

  A snake hissed at them, and they recoiled, only to realize it was sitting in the cave mouth, watching them. For a moment, they wondered if it would attack, but it only turned lazily and slithered farther into the cave.

  When it turned its head back to look at them, Charlie said, “I think it wants us to follow.”

  “Blondie,” Lisa said, looking at Aisling. She held her crossbow out to the Irish girl. “Can you use one of these?”

  Aisling held back a frown. “I never miss my shot.”

  “Good. Here.” Lisa tossed the crossbow and its quiver at Aisling, who caught it and expertly loaded an arrow.

  Lisa drew her dagger and let her arm be consumed in black. She looked at Charlie, who had his spear in hand, and nodded. His eyes glazed over red, and the trio entered the cave.

  The Alpha’s ears twitched on top of his head. In the darkness, his hackles rose and his growl caused the other wolves to whimper.

  Someone was trespassing over his territory.

  Darcy coughed as she ran. The necrogolem swept its hand downward and, although it phased right through her, Darcy could feel the friction as she passed through its fist. She coughed again, wondering if being sick interfered with her gift.

  A bolt of electricity zoomed next to her head, striking the golem’s fist. The corpse-made Construct raised the limb to its hollow eyes as bodies fell apart from each other. It placed the destroyed limb on the ground, as more bodies crawled over one another to form a new hand, this one even more disfigured than the last.

  Darcy ignored the urge to vomit. This was helped, perhaps, by the fact that she hadn’t eaten si
nce this morning.

  Instead, she raced and stumbled her way to the necrogolem’s right leg. She reached for two sticks of dynamite in her vest, and stopped to light them both as the golem swatted at her again. This time Darcy cried out as she phased through its hand. A human-sized arm shot out from one of its fingers and grabbed her wrist. It stayed there for a moment, and it would’ve pulled Darcy high off the ground, possibly to the golem’s mouth. It was only by sheer focus and will that she forced her arm to become intangible again, then the corpse’s hand let go and lifted into the air.

  Her gift was backfiring.

  Darcy ran the last several feet to the golem’s leg, the dynamite sticks burning down. She thrust them both into the leg made of dead bodies, and they grabbed at her, pulling her in. Darcy screamed as they held her there.

  She couldn’t slip out.

  Her heart pounded its way past her lungs as she was drawn further and further into the necrogolem’s leg. It began to take a step, and Darcy’s feet left the ground.

  Behind her, Darcy heard Nash yelling at her.

  “Get out of there! What are you waiting for? Phase out already, you idiot!”

  Another bolt of lightning struck the golem’s foot. Darcy flinched as she felt remnants of the electricity run into her arms from the corpses around her.

  “Nash, you dolt!” she whispered harshly. Then, louder, “Are you trying to fry me, too, now?”

  But it was just what she needed. Whether it was the shock of the electricity or the anger, Darcy was able to become intangible just long enough to fall out of the necrogolem’s leg. Other bodies fell alongside her, knocked loose by Nash’s stormstep, and the ones on the ground softened her fall in a most uncomforting way.

  Not a second later, the dynamite exploded, high in the air. Darcy rolled and clawed herself into a standing position just quick enough to jump away from the heat and flying bodies that pelted the ground. She half-crawled, half-ran away from the necrogolem as, with its leg gone, it lost balance and crashed stump first into the ground.

  Whatever magic had created the monstrosity couldn’t keep it together as its body collided with the ground, and continued to crumble. What was left of its leg fell apart and gave way to what could be considered hips, which gave way in turn to its torso. Its other leg was lying some several dozen feet behind it as the necrogolem continued to crash and fall apart with a continual shaking of the earth, scattering burial mounds and even breaking down some of the few pieces of the castle ruins that had been standing.

  The Monster Hunters, of course, had all been forced to move away, horses neighing with panic as corpses were flung at them and the ground uprooted beneath them. Nash was thrown off the back of his own mount as it stood upright and ran away.

  When the necrogolem had completely collapsed, and the sound of shaking earth had quieted, dust and the smell of rot had filled the air.

  Priest rode over to where Nash was, and leaned down in his saddle to help the boy up.

  “Are you alright lad?”

  Nash shook his head. “No,” he said, coughing up dust and spitting blood out from a busted lip. “Not really. But I’m alive. Is everyone else okay?”

  The old man nodded, catching Maurie as she almost fell off his horse. “We’re all fine. But I don’t see Darcy.”

  “What?” Nash asked. He turned, and began to call out for her, but found himself out of breath. After inhaling and exhaling a few times, he cupped his hands around his mouth, calling out as loudly as he could manage, “Darcy! Where are you?”

  A somewhat distant cry came back, “I’m fine! Be right there!”

  She emerged from the dust, disheveled and covered in dirt stains. Nash walked over to help her as she limped back toward the group.

  “You dummy,” she said, coughing. “I was having trouble using my gift. You would’ve killed me if your lightning bolt had hit any higher.”

  Nash frowned. “Your gift wasn’t working? How’s that?”

  “I think it’s because I’m still feeling sick.”

  “Well then,” he said, grinning. “If anything, it looks like my stormstepping helped you. So maybe you should call me something other than dummy.”

  “You’re right, Nash. How does doofus sound?”

  “Behind you!” cried Priest. Nash and Darcy moved aside just as a large cleaver flew through the air where they had just been standing. The other Monster Hunters rode to meet and protect them against three silhouettes standing in the wreckage of the necrogolem.

  “That was a very good try,” said Carman as she drew closer, her blood red lips slicing a smile into her cheeks. “But it’s a lost cause.”

  The two forms beside her became clear as well, two young men that looked to be in their twenties. One, his red hair a messy mop, flipped a butcher’s knife over and over again through the air, catching it on the tip of the blade. His simple clothes were covered in dark stains that left little to question. The other, who looked younger, had most of his face covered by the shadow of his hat. He carried no weapon, but looked the more menacing of the two.

  “These are my sons, Dian,” Carman said, pointing to the one with the butcher’s knife, “and Dother. My youngest son, Dub, is unfortunately not here to meet you. He’s on his way to Hunter’s Key, to deal with your mentors there.”

  Without building up the momentum, Chen threw his rope dart at Carman. The spike almost touched her forehead when she reached up to grab it out of the air. The rope—spike and ball as well—became a long snake, and Chen had to act quickly before getting bitten by his own weapon.

  “We gave you a chance,” Carman said. “You should have taken it. Now, your journey ends here.”

  She raised her arms, and all around her the bodies of the dead began to crawl or stand and walk towards each other, becoming once more that ghastly horror. The Monster Hunters watched in despair as the necrogolem slowly reformed.

  “Now,” said Carman, “should we try that again?”

  Priest nudged Nash with his foot. “Take her,” he said, rolling Maurie over into Nash’s arms, who tried to set her down as gently as possible.

  Priest drew his sword and, looking for all the world like a warrior priest from two hundred years ago, charged the witch and her sons. Chen and Derrick rode behind him, barely armed but ready to fight to the death.

  “Stay with her?” Nash asked Darcy, gesturing to Maurie.

  “She’ll be fine over here,” Darcy objected. “I can help.”

  “You can help here. If your gift isn’t working, there’s no guarantee you won’t get hurt.”

  “That’s never stopped the rest of you!”

  “Just, stay! It’ll all be over soon.”

  Before she could argue further, Nash rushed off, checking to make sure R.I.G.G. and his hunting rifle were loaded.

  Ahead of them, Priest had reached Carman. He saw Dother and Dian move in front of her but didn’t care. He would die here, but he would do so killing this witch and making a way for the other Hunters to get to Drakauragh. And he was okay with this.

  “Be gone with ye, vile woman!”

  Carman only laughed as a torso and head of a necrogolem rose behind her. It flung an arm forward in an arc over the head of its master, and its unformed hand bashed Priest aside. He felt his cracked rib shift as he and his horse were thrown into the air. He lost his grip on his sword and momentarily feared he would land on it and die. He landed with a hard crunch in something that used to be a burial mound.

  Chen and Derrick pulled back as the golem’s arms swept the earth in front of them. Derrick, who still had Nash’s R.I.G.G., prepared to fire as soon as the golem’s fist was out of the way.

  However, when the necrogolem’s fist had finished its oversized swing, Derrick never got his chance to fire. Dother, the man whose hat had been covering his face, was flying through the air toward him, a mouth ful
l of filed teeth open far too wide for a human, aiming for Derrick’s face. Both of the men fell off the horse, which spooked and charged at Carman. She batted it aside with a gesture of her hand. It landed several feet away, unmoving.

  At the same time, Chen found himself on the defense as the other brother, Dian, closed the distance between them. Chen felt his forearm rip open under a butcher’s knife that was very chipped and rusted. He blocked the witch spawn’s second strike—a cleaver arcing over head—with his forearm. Chen grimaced at the jolt of pain that came from the block. For a warrior like Chen, pain was routine, but Dian’s inhuman strength was overpowering even to him. He grabbed the wild redhead’s wrist and pulled it downward while kicking upward and felt a grim satisfaction as his foot cracked against Dian’s skull, but Dian only smiled.

  As Chen struggled to avoid the ferocity of Dian’s blows, Derrick tried to wrestle himself out from under Dother as the vicious witch’s child snapped and clawed and hissed at the young messenger. In between the skirmishes of her two sons, Carman strode toward Nash lazily.

  “I must admit I have enjoyed this,” she said, pulling a red bone dagger from her hip. “It wouldn’t have been very fun without someone trying to stop us. Someone to destroy.”

  “That’s all you want, isn’t it?” Nash said trying to find time, and a weakness. “Destruction.”

  Carman smiled widely. “Yes. Yes it is.”

  “At least the Sagemistress seemed to have a sense of meaning when I met her.”

  “It is a fault of hers, isn’t it?” she said, her lip twitching.

  “Not really,” Nash said, knowing he’d hit a sore spot. “Makes her a more worthy opponent, in my book.”

  Carman snarled and leapt at him, slashing the air with her bone dagger. In that moment, Nash saw her features become like that of a bloody skull, hugely fanged and filled with death. He saw the burning of villages in her depthless eyes, the murder of thousands.