by J. A. Pitts
He gave me a puzzled look and bowed toward me, ever so slightly. I guess it was a thing. Lately everyone was bowing to show respect.
I waved as he walked down the drive to his van and turned to the house. I texted Stuart, letting him know they were clear to come see what there was to see.
Now I just had to let Katie know what was going on.
Fourteen
Katie hadn’t been happy about the situation, as you can imagine, but understood my decision to call Jimmy and the others. She didn’t want anyone else to get hurt. She just said she’d be home when I got done. Not as bad as it could’ve gone, but there was definitely a frostiness in her voice.
I was on my second cup of righteously sweet tea when we heard the sounds of vehicles coming up the drive. I looked at Julie briefly and got up. I didn’t even wait for Mrs. Sorenson to finish her thought.
Jimmy and Deidre were in his truck, Stuart and Bub in another. Gunther rolled up on his Harley. The sun was low in the sky, casting the farm in shadows. Frankly, I’d been afraid to go back into the barn alone. The magic done there was vile, and I wanted no part in it. Besides, I loved horses. Being around a dead one was not high on my list of fun times.
I thought about the message Julie saw, about the fact that it seemed to have faded, and about the way Charlie Hague had done something like magic when he thought I wasn’t watching. I definitely needed answers.
“Hey, Jim,” I called as I went out onto the porch. He was taking Deidre’s chair out of the back of the truck as Stuart and Gunther walked toward the house. Bub hovered over between the trucks, where folks in the house couldn’t see him. Not sure how either Mrs. Sorenson or Mary would react to my little demon buddy.
“Mind if I just head into the house?” Deidre asked. She looked exhausted. Physical therapy was hard work. I knew from when I had them work on my wounded hand.
I took her in and introduced her around, and she settled in next to Julie. Before I was out the door, they were all chattering together like old friends. Good folks.
The guys had waited for me by the trucks.
“It’s not pretty,” I said, waving them over to the barn. “Smell is bad, burned meat, viscera, stale blood…”
“Sounds delightful,” Stuart said, hefting a flashlight.
Gunther and Bub went straight for the ritual stall, while Jimmy hung back, taking in the whole scene. I just stood to the side, letting them examine things without prejudicing them. I wanted them to find something I’d missed.
Stuart did more of a security sweep, examining each stall carefully without going inside. Keeping an eye on things while the others did what they had skills for.
Gunther, on the other hand, went about his investigation so specifically, the same as Charlie Hague, that I was startled. He couldn’t be following the same steps Charlie did any closer than if he’d been there to watch the first investigation. I’m not sure exactly how to explain it. His examination was as much metaphysical as physical, if that makes any sense.
There was one spot, where a lot of blood had splashed on the ground outside the stalls, like perhaps the killer had spilled a bowl of blood or dropped a body part that was still leaking a lot. He didn’t touch the blood exactly, but after a moment he called Bub over. They squatted, heads together, exchanging ideas.
Jimmy watched them a moment and shrugged. I smiled, thinking how much they’d changed. Then I looked down the length of the barn to Stuart. He watched with his arms folded across his chest, his face impassive. After a moment, he turned and looked out into the paddock.
Jimmy nodded once toward Stuart, then went to join Gunther and Bub, leaning against the stall wall, slipping into their conversation. Gunther said something about entrails, and Bub added that someone was scrying.
I walked to the back of the barn with Stuart, put my arm over his shoulder, and leaned my head against him.
“Thanks for coming,” I said. “This is pretty damn creepy.”
Stuart grunted but didn’t move. For the last of the light, we watched the horses moving together along the very farthest part of the paddock. As the darkness rolled over the farm, the horses became more vocal, whinnying and blowing. One of the younger colts reared on his hind legs and cried to the night sky.
“That’s us,” Stuart said quietly. “Huddled against one another in the dark, fearful we’ll be the next one butchered.”
I didn’t say anything, just held on to him until someone threw on the big sodium lights that blanketed the back of the farm.
Fifteen
I headed out and met Julie at Jimmy’s truck. We made mindless small talk while waiting for the guys to wrap up. They didn’t take too much longer and came out of the barn huddled in a moving scrum.
“Mary is having a bath,” Julie said. “Mrs. Sorenson is washing dishes.”
“Good. I don’t want to freak them out with Bub.”
Julie looked at me and smiled. “I wouldn’t put it past Mrs. Sorenson to be hipper to such things than you think. But you’re right. Best not to test that just yet.”
The guys got to the truck, and we started sharing what we’d seen.
First Stuart gave his impression. For as little time as I saw him look at the two main stalls in this little drama, he’d picked up a ton of details.
“Charcoal marks on the slaughter stall, rubbed out, but still visible if you looked closely enough. Likely used to ward the cell, cloak it from being noticed by the outside world while the killing occurred.”
“Explains why Mary didn’t hear anything,” Julie said.
“And there is a sign on every stall. A warding mark, to keep the secrets hidden from anyone who looks around casually.”
“Aye,” Gunther agreed. “Probably there to keep the other horses from freaking out.”
“Not foolproof,” I said, explaining the wounds Charlie Hague and I had tended.
“It wasn’t powerful magic,” Gunther said. “Just enough to allow our visitor to finish what he was doing.”
“Blood magic,” Bub spoke up. “And there is a distinct taint to the magic. One I’ve smelled before.”
“Crap,” I said. “Justin?”
He nodded. The necromancer who had tormented Anezka, sabotaged her house out in Chumstick, eventually trapping Qindra there.
“And he’s looking for you,” Bub said, quietly.
“Told you,” Julie said with a grimace.
“I didn’t see a message,” I said, frowning.
Bub shuffled his little taloned feet and wrung his hands. “It was written in pain.”
“Nicely put,” Gunther agreed. “I’ve heard of those who could take the energy from a situation and manipulate it, use it for other purposes. This is the first time I’ve seen anyone use it to leave a message.”
“But I can’t see it,” I said, beginning to get pissed off.
Jimmy shrugged, as did Stuart. “Oh, I see,” Gunther said. “Follow me.”
“I’m going back into the house,” Julie said. “I’ve seen enough pain and blood for one day, thank you.”
Can’t say as I blamed her.
We walked back into the barn. Gunther positioned me directly in front of one of the stalls, made sure I was looking at the area he wanted, then, without as much as a how do you do, punched me.
I spun at him, shocked, but in that flash, as the pain jolted into my brain, the words flashed in front of me.
“What the fuck?”
“Julie is in constant pain with her rehab, as am I,” Gunther described. “Bub, are you in pain?”
“Only my heart,” he said, seriously. “But it suffices.”
“I’m sorry,” Jimmy said. “I thought you’d seen it.”
“You in pain, Jim?” I asked, surprised.
“Same as Bub, I reckon. Must be this fight with Katie.” Or the loss of his parents, or the deaths in the spring fighting the dragon and his minions, or Deidre’s being crippled in that battle. He had a lot of things to be pained about.
I turned to Stuart
, who shrugged and smiled. “We all carry some level of pain. I guess I’m luckier than some others. I could barely see the words.”
Great. I had caught something but did not get a clean look at them. “Can someone tell me what they say, without punching me again?”
Jimmy pulled a notebook from his pocket and handed it to Gunther, who copied down the message.
“Sister of the flame. I call to the passion that rises between your thighs, the lust that builds in your loins. I draw forth the moisture from your body so that I may drink at your fountain. You who slew the dragon, who lays with women and is blessed of the one eyed god. How is it I cannot find you?”
Okay, I was the only dragon slayer we knew about, but the message was pretty freaking specific.
“Um,” I said, looking up from the notepad. “That’s a bit too personal for my liking.”
Jimmy laughed. “I was wondering why you weren’t pissed off,” he said. “Those are things about you, not you. He doesn’t know who you are yet. He’s just picking up random bits of information.”
“Aye,” Gunther agreed. “And based on what we see here, he’s been responsible for the other killings in the area.”
It was all over the news.
“I knew the girl killed at Monkey Shines,” I said, chagrined that she died because of me. There was enough of that in the world. This sucked.
“And the girls in Vancouver?” Stuart asked.
I shrugged. “Not sure. I met a lot of people at the concert. Groupies and such. Could be any number of people. Have they released pictures?”
No one knew.
“Okay, one crazy psycho with the ability to do some kinds of death and/or blood magic who is tracing you by at least two different living creatures you come into contact with on a regular basis.”
“And he’s onto the fact you’re a farrier and a lesbian,” Stuart added. “That should narrow things down quite a bit.”
I thought over to Charlie Hague. He’d known me by sight. I was feeling a little claustrophobic all of a sudden.
“Can we get out of here?” Bub asked from near the door. “The smell is bad.”
“Wait,” I said, turning down two stalls. “There’s something else. I didn’t tell the vet tech, but I caught something here. Something that looked like runes.”
I pointed to the crossbeam that ran up to the rafter. There, in the corner, I caught another glimmer of glamour. “I can’t see it when I look directly at it, but when I look out of the corner of my eye, I can catch something.”
Bub and Gunther both looked where I pointed.
“I got nothing,” Bub said. “Not my realm.”
Gunther turned to Stuart and motioned for him to join him. Stuart pushed off the wall and strode forward, reminding me of nothing more than a bulldog wading through a pack of poodles.
Once he entered the stall, Gunther held out one hand. Stuart clasped it in his opposite and the two looked up.
“I see,” Stuart said, startled.
Gunther nodded at him and Stuart left the barn. Everyone else was confused.
“It’s like the pain writing,” Gunther offered. “Only this one is even more specific. It will only fully display for someone who is intertwined with their significant other.”
I looked at Jimmy quickly, his eyes were as round as saucers.
“Um,” I began, my mind racing. “You and Stuart are an item?”
Gunther laughed, shaking his head. “Not in a sexual context.”
I shook my head. “I don’t get it.”
“We’re blood brothers,” he said, holding up his hand. There were many scars on those meaty paws, but down the middle of his palm was a wide scar. “We shared our blood, bound ourselves to one another for the rest of our lives. Warriors ’til the end.”
I walked to the barn door and saw Stuart leaning against the truck, his shoulders slumped. Was he crying?
“Is Stuart okay?”
Gunther smiled. “He’s had a rough year. I’m afraid he had begun to doubt our friendship, misunderstood my need to share my attention with Anezka.”
“He thought you’d ditched him?”
“As it were.”
Wow. I guess I’m not the only one who was struggling with self-esteem and feeling like part of the family.
“So, what did it say?” I asked.
“It was a binding, I’m afraid,” Gunther said, quietly. “Meant for you and Katie, most likely.”
“Binding?”
“Well, more of a geas, a breaking.”
I was confused. “In English this time?”
“There are three runes,” Gunther said. “Three runes, all in reverse. Kenaz, to represent breaking; Nauthiz, for deprivation; and Perthro, for loneliness.”
“Damn,” I breathed. “What the hell?”
“It was a trap for you, in case you were here with Katie, your true love. Your soul mate. It was a way to drive a wedge between you, to break your bond.”
I looked back at him and then out at Stuart. “Wait, does that mean…?”
Gunther shook his head. “It is weak, callous magic. Stuart and I have seen too much, been through too many rough times to be influenced by this pettiness.”
I took a deep breath. This magic stuff was dangerous and tricky. “Is he okay, then?”
He nodded.
“I get it,” Jimmy chimed in. “The only way he could see it is if you and he still had your bond.”
“Exactly,” Gunther said, smiling. “His fear of our bond being riven by Anezka, or anyone else, has been settled. Our bond is as strong as it has ever been.”
“If this is the necromancer you name Justin,” Gunther said, “he is both bold and foolish. This is a desperate act. Anyone with even the slightest bit of training could uncover the hidden messages here. There must be more to this.”
“Maybe he looks for her,” Bub chimed in. “But maybe he also looks for me.”
I looked around, as if Justin would suddenly appear.
“That could explain that tremor we felt when we came in,” Gunther agreed. “Maybe it’s time we got you back to someplace more sheltered.”
“If he has marked me somehow,” Bub said with a shake of his scaly head, “it would follow me, allowing him to trace me to you. Better I try something he cannot.”
And with that, Bub stepped into the sideways. There was the expected pop as the air around him collapsed into the space he’d just vacated.
“A trace on him?” I asked, looking around for him to return. “Will teleporting remove a magical trace?”
“Perhaps,” Jimmy said from the aisle. “He and I have been discussing the difference between this world and his home. I don’t believe he goes all the way back to Múspell, back to the land of fire, but he goes far enough away to be undetectable with any means we know of.”
“We’ve been practicing,” Gunther added. “Trying to get a handle on Anezka’s trauma.”
“What about the rest of us?”
Stuart was leaning against the truck, not moving.
“I think we need to split up for a few days,” Gunther said. “We’ll avoid Black Briar, so this magic can’t triangulate us all to one place. The police, vet tech, and even the horse have this same taint. Our necromancer will have a hard time following all of us.
“We’ll just go about our lives without congregating at any one point.
“Except you, of course,” he continued. “You stay here, help out Mrs. Campbell. That way, he’ll likely mistake you for a farm hand or one of the horses. It isn’t an exact magic, more of a wide net to capture the most fish.”
“Can we de-magic the barn?”
“Easy,” Gunther allowed. “Once the body has been removed, clean the stalls down with bleach. After the blood has been removed as best you can, burn sage throughout the barn, making sure to get smoke in every stall.
“Finally, circle the entire building with salt. This will leach away any residual magic that may remain.”
Bleach, sa
ge, salt, got it.
“We should split up,” Jimmy said. “Deidre and I will head home after dropping you folks off. How long should you stay away from Black Briar?”
“Only a couple of days,” Gunther said. “Like I said, the majority of the magic here was in scrying for Sarah. The rest is to track down anyone else who may pose a threat to this man. Recall, he did not go after Mary. She was not a target.”
“Good to know.” I walked out with them—hugged them individually, making sure to squeeze Stuart extra tight. I think he’d been crying. Silly man.
Once Deidre was in Jimmy’s big four-door pickup, Jimmy stopped and turned to me.
“Do me a favor, Beauhall. If you will.”
“Sure.”
“Tell Katie we miss her, in a way she’ll hear it.”
I studied him. He wanted to do the right thing, to be the protector. But sometimes you had to let those who love you take some risks. I’d learned that with Katie. If I hadn’t brought her with me out to Chumstick, I’d still be stuck in that horror house with Qindra, and Ari would be dead. Hell, I can’t imagine how deep the shit storm would’ve been if I hadn’t turned that bike around and taken her with me.
“Jim,” I said, putting my arm on his shoulder. “Give her some time. She’s strong, stronger than you want to give her credit for.”
“I can’t lose her,” he said, his eyes shiny in the light of the sodium lights.
“And you can’t keep her in a box. Let her breathe, Jim. Let her know she’s one of the grown-ups. She still loves you, will still look to you for guidance and protection on a lot of levels. Hell, you raised her, took care of her. She’s not stupid.”
He nodded, his face stern and contemplative. “You’re right, of course. And she believed this craziness long before I fully embraced it.”
“See,” I said, stepping back. “She’ll help you think outside the box. Let her know she’s needed. Let her be part of the team. That’s how you’ll win her back.”
“Thanks,” he said. “You’ve gotten a helluva lot smarter since when I first met you.”
I wasn’t sure I shouldn’t be insulted there, but I let it go. The man was thinking, changing.