Prophecy of Blood

by John R. Monteith

  “A little? I threw it perfectly straight.”

  “Um. Not really. At least it wasn’t abysmal.”

  “This isn’t fair. I need a target to aim for.”

  “That would do more harm than good.”

  “How?”

  His shoulders slumped in defeat. “I was going to say you’ll ruin your morale when you keep missing it, but I won’t win that argument, will I?”

  “No. I’d like a target please.”

  He bowed. “If the Lady of the Dagger desires a target, a target she shall have.”

  She wanted to chide him for his sarcasm, but she liked the title ‘Lady of the Dagger’ and hoped he’d use it again.

  He jogged to the shed and opened its unlocked door. Moments after disappearing into its darkness, he emerged hugging a three-colored circular target mounted to a tripod of thick wood. Lumbering into the field, he carried it ten paces from her and then plopped it onto the ground.

  “Isn’t that kind of close?”

  He stepped to her, ducked under the table, and appeared beside her. “I’ll move it back if necessary.”

  “Can I have a knife?”

  “Sure.” He reached into the bag and handed her the next dull blade, which had spots of rust.

  She cocked her arm and lobbed the projectile two meters over the target. “Woo-hoo! Did you see that?”

  “I’m not sure we’re watching the same spectacle.”

  “Didn’t you see how far it went?”

  “You do understand that the object is to embed the knife into the middle of the roundy thingy?”

  “Why don’t you show me how it’s done, smartass?”

  He nodded, pulled out a knife, and thought about his motions. With the memory of his aching arm seemingly on his mind, he raised the weapon to his ear and threw it into the edge of the bullseye. “Not bad for wearing a cast, if I don’t say so.”

  “Showoff. Give me another one.”

  He handed her a dull blade.

  The motion was becoming familiar, and she managed to bounce the knife off the target’s edge. “Sweet!”

  “Actually, that is showing some progress.”

  “Another!”

  “Here you go.”

  Her confidence building, she put power behind her throw, but the knife veered into the ground.

  “That’s a common mistake. When you try too hard, you end up throwing it downward. Try it again with less power.” He handed her another practice weapon.

  Her lobbed knife pierced the bottom of the target, rotated down, and then lost its battle with gravity. “That counts, right?”

  “You’re definitely getting better. That’s all the knives, though. Wait here while I round them up for another round.”

  “Let me try my dagger first.”

  “Maybe later. Let’s not interrupt our momentum. You’re making good progress.”

  With her enchanted knife hanging from the cloth belt against the side of her jeans that had escaped grass stains during her tumble, she questioned his assumption. “I don’t get it. What interruptions?”

  “I don’t want to make the trip back to house.”

  “What are you talking about? It’s right here.” She looked at her hip, but her dagger had transformed its bronze color into a transparent outline showing distorted blurs of brown dirt by her foot and hazy blue denim threads by her thigh.

  Crouching, he stared at her hip. “Fascinating. I see it, but barely, and only if I stare.”

  “It looks weird to me, too, like a big block of thick glass.”

  “I wonder if we’re seeing the same thing. It’s almost perfectly invisible to me, but not quite.”

  “Should I touch it?”

  “Yeah. Go ahead.”

  Tapping its handle, she felt its cool hard metal, which assumed an azure glow with her skin’s stimulus.

  “You see the light blue, right?”

  “Yeah.” She let go, and it became clear ice again.

  He stood. “Here endeth the lesson.”

  “Why? You said I was getting good.”

  “More like, here endeth the riddle. The combat usage your ghost was referring to was camouflage. Your throwing is awful, but you can somehow turn your dagger invisible. We need to figure out how you control it.” He ducked under the table and moved to the left to retrieve her first knife.

  Considering his assessment incomplete, she reached for her dagger, pulled it to her ear, and hurled it. It glowed azure while it flew and then assumed its natural bronze appearance upon stopping–dead center in the bullseye.

  Liam stared at the target, looked at Dianne with awe, and then marched to her dagger. He pulled it from the bullseye, turned to her, and threw the knife.

  Her brief fear of being stabbed vanished as she sensed her weapon’s obedience and extended her right hand. The dagger glowed azure, curved its flight trajectory, and then pressed its handle into her palm.

  He gazed upon her like a goddess and spoke with reverence. “Lady of the Dagger, indeed.”

  CHAPTER 11

  Liam reached the house and opened the exterior door.

  “Thanks.” Dianne slipped into the laundry room ahead of him.

  He closed the door and accepted the intertwining of their fates. The discoveries on the weapons range had proven she belonged with him and his father hunting the new wraith. But he knew convincing the elder hunter of their conjoined destinies presented a challenge.

  “Do you want help putting things away?”

  “I’ll manage, thanks. Why don’t you clean up and get ready for supper?”

  She stepped into the living room and out of sight.

  Free of her captivating awe, he exhaled a long sigh. Her powers extended beyond her awareness, and the risk of the unknown made him anxious. Seeking his father’s advice, he dropped the sack of knives and strode to the study.

  Seated behind his desk with a hardcover book in his hands, the elder hunter looked up. “How was her training?”

  “You wouldn’t believe the ending. You wouldn’t believe the beginning either.”

  “I’m all ears.”

  Liam explained her clumsiness, her slow learning, and her supernatural control of her dagger.

  “You didn’t throw it directly at her, did you?”

  “Of course not. It was well wide, but she caught it like a cricket ball. And I swear it swerved in mid-flight for her.”

  “Like the first time you threw it to her in Michigan.”

  “Exactly. There’s more to her power, her dagger’s power, or both, that we’re not seeing.”

  “You can’t expect it all to be predictable.”

  The comment seemed like an opening. “Life isn’t predictable. That may be a good reason to have an insurance policy like Dianne joining us on our mission.”

  His father swiveled in his chair and closed his book. “You know I have reservations about that.”

  “So do I. But she’s a strong woman, and I believe it’s her destiny to join us.”

  “I couldn’t live with myself if something were to happen to her.”

  “I’m pretty sure she intends to join us, and I don’t think you’ll be able to stop her.”

  His father frowned and grunted. “I don’t like it. What about her responsibilities to her family? I suspect that her grandmother can tend to her brother for only a limited time.”

  Liam had thought it through. Money and hospitality could solve everything. “We can fly Nana and Josh out here and let them stay with us.”

  “We’re not going to be here. We’ll be traveling, hunting after the new wraith.”

  “We could rent a large motorhome like last time.”

  “That was a stress they both endured thanks to their love for Dianne. I don’t see either of them enduring it for strangers.”

  “She’s an empath. She probably has divine powers of influence to make them join her, if she wants.”

  “If she’s that powerful, she could just as easily convince me w
ith her mental prowess and save you the trouble.”

  Liam considered asking her to oblige his father’s challenge, but it would be a last resort. “I don’t think any of us want to test our abilities against each other.”

  “Yet you threw a knife at her.”

  “Not at her. Near her.”

  “With your aim, that could just be semantics.” His father held a stern look for two seconds, but the smile won the battle and appeared on his face.

  “Not funny, Father. Okay, it’s a little bit funny. But it’s not true. I’ve been practicing.”

  “Oh, I don’t doubt it. You’ve got great skills, which is precisely why I think we should tackle this mission ourselves. It’s our heritage to hunt as a pair, succeeding by our own means as father and son.”

  A question crept into Liam’s mind. “Did the priest from the order give you a copy of the prophecy book from the hunters we’re replacing? Maybe there’s guidance in there.”

  “I was wondering when you’d ask.” He reached into his top drawer and withdrew printed sheets.

  “You had their book, and you didn’t share?”

  “Some things are best shared only when requested. You’ve been digesting a lot of information, and I didn’t want to burden you.”

  “I could’ve been studying that!”

  “I assure you, the order already has. The first chapter is a complete match with our book. The history of hunts and lessons to be gleaned from them align with ours as well, although the narrative is much shorter. The only major difference is the compressed timing of the lunar cycle, which you already know about.”

  “Yeah, three tributes per full moon over three full moons. You’re saying that’s the only difference between our book and the one we inherited?”

  “Not me. Historians and cryptographers at the order. But yes, I read the translations and agree with the experts.”

  Remembering the connection between the book of his lineage and that of Dianne’s, the younger hunter saw a peculiarity. “We have different hunter lines who hardly communicate with each other over centuries, right?”

  “It’s more restrictive than that. We never communicate. All our communication is hierarchical through the order.”

  “Dianne’s line has a book for empaths, and her first chapter was tied to our first chapter with a shared encoding scheme. Don’t you see the significance? Doesn’t that mean that all hunter lines are connected to Dianne’s line somehow?”

  The elder hunter’s brow furrowed. “All hunter lines are interconnected to each other, as are all empath lines interconnected. I don’t think you can draw any special conclusions from that.”

  Fearing he’d have to send the beautiful empath back across the ocean, the younger hunter admitted defeat. “I guess you’re right. Where does this leave us?”

  Connor scowled and reached for his chest.

  Liam thought his father was suffering a critical internal loss of blood flow until he felt the tingling sensation, too.

  The elder hunter looked up from his seat. “I’m feeling something bizarre, but it’s not life threatening.”

  “I feel it too, I think. It’s weird, like… tingling, distress.”

  “A distress signal.”

  “Our dagger!” Liam turned and darted for the observatory. Then he stopped and waited for his father, who had the combination to the latch.

  Connor trotted ahead, fumbled for the latch, but found the door unlocked. He entered the room.

  Liam followed and saw Dianne standing with both enchanted daggers pressed together in her hands. One emitted azure light while the other turned black. Then the second knife glowed red as its energy source went dark.

  “Hi guys. Hey look, they’re friends.”

  The elder hunter sounded shocked. “How did you get in here?”

  “I used the combination.”

  “I didn’t give it to you.”

  “Yeah, he hasn’t even given it to me yet, and I live here.”

  “You must have. How else would I have known it? Anyway, your dagger was ready for full healing, and mine was ready to heal it. So, I brought them together. Turns out, I hardly need to be involved at all. I can hold them like this and let them take care of it.”

  His father sounded incredulous about her having hacked her way in. “How long have you been in here?”

  “About a minute, I guess. Why?”

  “That’s when I received a tingling sensation in my chest. I can only assume that’s a distress call from our dagger.”

  Liam stepped towards her to get a better view of the weapons, which continued their oscillating exchange of light and energy. “What’s done is done. May as well let her finish.”

  Consumed in a piercing analysis, his father squinted. “Dianne, can you put down our dagger?”

  Dianne seemed happy, like her knife was a source of joy and nothing else mattered. “It’s not ready yet.”

  Connor dug deeper. “But could you put it down if you tried?”

  She frowned. “Oh, I don’t want to hurt the poor thing like that. It’s been through so much already.”

  Liam thought she behaved like a mother with her child. “How long until it’s ready, do you think?”

  “A little patience, a little love. Not long now.”

  The younger hunter watched the dark sanguine of his inherited blade shift to a lighter red and then towards a coppery pink. “Do you see that, Father?”

  “Indeed I do, if you mean the softening of the red light.”

  “Yeah. It’s taking in less energy with each pulse.”

  Dianne admired the healing activity in her hands. “Because it’s almost all better.”

  The flashing lights stopped, leaving the empath’s weapon glowing a steady light blue in her grasp while the hunters’ dagger assumed its natural bronze.

  Dianne separated the weapons, one into each hand, and then she placed the healed knife onto the table. “Your dagger’s ready.”

  Liam noticed the blade’s orientation holding firm where she’d put it. “It should be pointing towards the wraith’s last kill.” He glared at her. “Did you break our dagger?”

  “No, it’s fine.”

  Liam was getting frustrated. “It’s lying there limp instead of doing its job.”

  She furrowed her brow. “I know it’s fine. What’s it supposed to be doing again?”

  “It points towards the killing site where he last stabbed a woman in the heart.”

  “Isn’t that old news?”

  He’d explained it to her once, but she seemed mesmerized, her focus elsewhere, while holding her azure knife. So, he tried again. “He’s drawn to the location of the sacrifice, which is the final kill. As the time approaches for his final kill, he becomes more restricted within a radius to the sacrifice’s location. We get closer to him with each kill, in other words.”

  “Oh, I get it. Sorry. I think I was blocking your dagger’s energy a bit.”

  Liam scowled. “Huh?”

  “It’s still scared.”

  The young hunter pointed to himself. “Of me?”

  “Sort of, you and Connor. It’s like stage fright. A little nudge should fix it.” She stuck her bluish dagger over the table and clanked it against the bronze weapon. The hunters’ dagger wobbled, rotated, and steadied.

  Leaning, Liam aligned his eye with the straightedge over the blade and noted the orientation. “Bearing zero-nine-seven. Right where it steadied last time.”

  Caressing her dagger as she walked, Dianne departed. “Is dinner going to be ready soon? I’m hungry.”

  Lowering his voice, the young hunter announced his assessment. “There goes the Lady of the Dagger.”

  “A fitting title, indeed. So be it, then. I’ll call the order and make the arrangements. Dianne’s going to be working with us for a while.”

  CHAPTER 12

  Dianne hung up her phone and placed it on the nightstand. In the hunters’ house guestroom, she lay back on her bed and tried repeating
the trick that had helped save her in Michigan.

  Her brother, Josh, was her ideal supernatural receiver, and she hailed him with her emotions. Assuming him lonely without her, she attempted love, loneliness, and anxiety. Reclining with her head on the pillow, she closed her eyes and meditated.

  “Josh?”

  In their shared spirit, his voice was distant. “Dianne?”

  “I’m here. Can you hear me?”

  No response.

  She realized the strongest links occurred when danger drove up her emotions. Today, she was calm, weakening their connection. “Josh? Are you there?”

  Nothing.

  “If you can hear me, pick up your phone. We need to talk.”

  The link died, and her awareness returned to the view of an old crossbeam timber holding up the attic.

  Rolled to her side, she grabbed the phone from her nightstand, and then stood. She lifted her phone and called him.

  He answered. “Hello.”

  “Where’ve you been?”

  “My phone was on silent.”

  “You heard me asking for you to answer, right? Telepathically?”

  “Yeah.”

  She wanted to review the strength of their supernatural connection, but logistical concerns were more pressing. “Did you and Nana get your plane tickets to Ireland?”

  “Nana says she did.”

  “So the credit card number I texted you worked?” The elder hunter had given her the number, which she assumed came from his secret order.

  “Yeah.”

  “When do you get here?”

  “Not tomorrow but the next day. In the morning.”

  “Okay, great. Can you send me the information?”

  “I don’t know.”

  She heard the tension in his voice and knew a deeper probing would frustrate him. She backed off. “That’s okay, Josh. Is Nana there?”

  “No.”

  “Can you remember to ask Nana to send me an email?”

  “Yes.”

  “Please.”

  “I said yes.”

  “Okay, Josh. May I text you a reminder, too?”

  “Okay.”

  “Thanks, Josh. I love you.”

  “I love you, too. Bye.”

  She hung up and walked to the dining room where the housekeeper placed a pile of meatloaf in front of the hunters. “Is there anything for dinner that doesn’t cause a heart attack?”