by M. D. Massey
The Dagda’s acorn.
“Bag, are you trying to tell me something?” The Bag flipped itself closed and clammed up tight as a nun’s knees. “Okay… I’ll take that as a yes.”
I held the acorn up to my eye, examining it and rubbing it between my fingers. As I did, the tree seed warmed to my touch, almost as if it had life inside of it that was trying to get out… or maybe that wanted to get out.
“Alright, little acorn. I can’t think of a better monument to the life of such a gentle giant as Elmo. Let’s put you in the ground, and give you the shot at life that he no longer has.”
I knelt down, using my hunting knife to scoop dirt away—just a small divot of earth in the center of the aisle where we’d laid the ogre’s body to rest. I went to place the acorn in the ground, then paused—was I missing something? On instinct, I held the acorn in my palm and spat on it. It was a strange and impulsive gesture, but it seemed proper in the moment.
I set the acorn in the ground and pushed the dirt back over the hole. I patted the dirt gently, not wanting to pack it so tight that the little acorn wouldn’t grow. Then I stood, taking a step back to admire my handiwork.
“Ah, shit. How am I going to keep people from trampling it, once it starts to grow?” I racked my brains for ideas for several seconds, then the ground beneath my feet began to rumble and quake.
“What the f—?”
This concludes Book 5 in the Colin McCool Paranormal Suspense series, Druid Justice. But, the story continues in Book 6, Druid Enforcer!
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Druid Enforcer
Book 6
1
“Here, birdy-birdy-birdy,” I whispered as I made a cat-like landing on the ninety-year-old warehouse’s hardwood floor. Although I landed softly, the aged wooden boards still creaked underfoot, protesting under the weight of my lean and muscular two-hundred-pound frame. That was okay, because I hoped to draw my prey out by alerting it to my presence. So long as I didn’t attract any attention from the local human population, stealth didn’t matter.
Earlier, I’d received an urgent text from my fae liaison, requesting that I deal with a rather unsavory creature who was abducting children in the Fredericksburg area. Fredericksburg was a well-known pit-stop and tourist trap nestled in the Texas wine country amidst verdant farmland, rolling hills, and clear, cold creeks and streams. It was a place where the affluent came to start second careers when they tired of the city life, a fact evidenced by the dozens of B&Bs, wineries, vineyards, breweries, boutiques, and antique stores that had infested the town and surrounding area.
One might wonder why a dangerous supernatural creature would end up here, but to a seasoned hunter, it was a familiar story. Germans had settled the area in the early to mid-1800s, and with them had come all manner of creatures from the old world, including every variety of Germanic fae, undead, and other species. The beast I currently hunted fell into the “other” category, and frankly I had no idea what to expect with regard to its magical powers and attributes. What I did know was that it liked to eat children, and two kids had gone missing over the last few days—reason enough for me to go half-cocked after it.
Besides, my job as druid justiciar was not just to maintain the peace accord that had been hammered out the night of my appointment. I’d also been tasked with keeping the supernatural world secret from mundane humans. There were a lot of fae living in the area, and since Queen Maeve didn’t like it when creatures hunted near her subjects—missing children and mutilated corpses tended to draw attention, after all—she’d asked me to “deal with it.”
And as the area’s newly-appointed supernatural sheriff, how could I refuse?
Unfortunately, my entrance had failed to elicit a response, so I scanned the room for anything that might indicate the creature’s presence. Moonlight shone through the oak and pecan trees outside, causing leafy shadows to play along the floor. Light from the big silver orb danced on motes of dust around me, the only movement my enhanced vision could detect. Gloomy darkness obscured the rafters high above, reaching down into the far corners of the building where even my enhanced vision couldn’t see.
For the sake of thoroughness and self-preservation, I mumbled a spell as I made a few arcane gestures with my left hand. In an instant, my vision switched from visible light to the magical spectrum. Still, I couldn’t detect any supernatural beings, and nothing stirred but the trees outside.
I was beginning to think I’d followed a trail gone cold when a cold draft blew up from the floorboards, carrying a scent that made the hairs on my arms stand up. The air in the diner-slash-antique-shop was heavily laden with the smells of mold, fried food, mothballs, dust, and some delicious baked goods that until this moment I’d planned to sample on my way out. But along with that peculiar olfactory mix, the musky odor of carrion and rot lay underneath. It was a scent that put a damper on my appetite… and my awareness on high alert.
The smell was old—much older than the antique furniture and junk arrayed around the outskirts of the large, open room. On the way in, I’d spotted a hand-carved hutch that had most certainly been brought over from the old country, perhaps two centuries ago or more. Yet this odor spoke of ages long past, dark memories that were best left forgotten in the time before man had built solid walls of wood and stone to keep its kind out.
I drew my sword, leaving my Glock holstered for fear of attracting the attention of the local police. This warehouse, while appearing dark and desolate on the inside, was within a stone’s throw of half a dozen businesses, including two restaurants, a bar, a hotel, a bed and breakfast, not to mention the town’s grocery store. The last thing I needed was to run afoul of the law out here in Gooberville, Texas. Rural cops weren’t known to show leniency for city folk who disturbed the peace by shooting up their town. Hopefully, I could deal with this thing using only my blade and magic.
I skirted the edges of the room, treading lightly while keeping my eyes peeled and my ears tuned for any movement or sound. I’d soon walked the perimeter of the warehouse without seeing hide nor feather of my quarry, so I began again. Halfway through my second circuit, I sensed a strange and foreboding presence near the center of the room.
As I searched the area, my eyes landed on an old decrepit chair that had seen better days. The thing was made from stitched black velvet, rubbed smooth on the seat and arms, and it had a tufted, diamond patterned back adorned with thirteen matching buttons. Mold, mildew, and wear had eaten away the upholstery at the base, revealing dark shreds of stuffing between worn threads and frayed edges.
But is that stuffing… or feathers?
As I drew closer, step by cautious step toward the object that had attracted my attention, a sudden fear came over me. At twenty feet away, it was the barest suggestion testing the borders of my courage. At fifteen feet, it became a knot in my gut that told me to turn around and run. And at ten feet, I strove with my every gram of will against a desire to flee the premises and never look back.
Along with my fear, the shadows cast by the chair grew as well. They crept toward me, spreading outward until they took on the shape of a huge carrion crow—or, perhaps, a raven. The raven’s talons reached for me across the darkened room, eight shadowy spears edging toward my chest, inch by harrowing inch.
As the shadows touched me, I was instantly frozen between fear and intent, unable to move forward or turn away—although I desperately wished to do the latter. I froze for the span of several heartbeats, until I felt a growing warmth in my hand. Straining to tear my eyes away from the shadowy source of terror ahead, my line of sight ticked by millimeters down to the object I held—the sword.
With my acknowledgement of the sword’s presence, the warmth it produced increased. The sensation spread up my wrist and arm, through my shoulder and into my body, pus
hing the magically-induced fright out as the heat spread to the rest of my extremities. Once the sword’s influence reached its terminus in my fingers and toes, the blade flared to life, filling the room with an intense light that chased the creeping darkness away.
Fucking fear spell—and a damned strong one. I touched the amulet that carried most of my wards as I murmured a spell to shore up my protection against fear magic. Hell if I’d let the thing surprise me like that again.
By the time I’d finished strengthening my wards, the sword’s brilliant flames had almost completely cast the shadows from the room. No longer in its native element, the raven-shaped shadow shied away—and although it might have been a trick of light, I could swear I saw it cringe. Despite the reaction the fiery blade had caused, the shadow seemed to eat the light around it, like a black hole sucking in starlight and debris in deep space.
Suddenly, there was a sound like a flock of birds in flight, and before my eyes the dark throne began to unfold itself. The chair morphed like a life-sized work of origami done in wood and tattered cloth, rapidly undraping itself by limb and frame, feather and pinion, beak and claw. Layer by layer it grew, until a sinister and unholy thing stood in place of that old, battered chair—a nightmare amalgamation of shadow, cloth, wood, and metal.
The night raven cocked its head to the side, its crown nearly touching the warehouse rafters above. A black and empty eye socket regarded me—or, rather, I felt it did, just as I sensed the creature was anything but sightless. It spread its wings wide, the tattered ebony tips scraping the walls to either side. Then it cawed at me, a sound more like a Jurassic roar than an annoyed bird’s retort.
“Sufferin’ succotash,” I muttered, “that sure ain’t Tweety Bird.”
The thing standing before me was definitely not a house pet, although seeing it made me wish I’d a brought a couple of pets with me to help take it down. Trained mountain lions, for example, or perhaps a liger. Not that I owned any trained mountain lions or ligers, mind you, but after tonight it was something I definitely planned to put on my druid to-do list.
Unfortunately, I’d chosen to hunt this thing solo, and considering its size and reach I knew I needed to get off the “X” in a hurry. I tried stepping back, but found my legs sluggish and my feet still rooted to the floorboards. I roared at the creature, a reactive response meant to chase the last traces of fear from my bones so I could spring into action.
And just in time, too. The nachtkrapp chose that moment to swing one of those tatterdemalion wings at me, one that happened to be equipped with a vestigial claw on the leading edge. I ducked underneath while swiping at the giant raven’s plumage with my sword, hoping for an easy counter. Obviously wary of the flames that danced along the blade, the shadow creature snatched its appendage back with surprising speed, denying me a hit.
The nachtkrapp, or night raven, was a type of boogeyman that found its origin in southern Germany and Austria. While folklore often depicted it as a singular creature, like most supernatural creatures it existed as a race or type not limited to a single presence. I suspected this one had been trapped in the chair by a spell or curse, only to be released or awakened by the unsuspecting owners of this establishment. Antique dealers were always stumbling over shit they didn’t understand, and I hoped it hadn’t cost these poor people more than what they’d lose when I burned that fucking chair.
I didn’t know much about night ravens, but I knew this one was big and fast. The only way to fight something that big was to attack it from a distance, or get in close to nullify its reach. Despite the generous dimensions of the warehouse, I still lacked the space necessary to stand back and blast the thing with magic. Besides, most of the spells I could use to strafe it were elemental in nature, and I didn’t want to burn the place down.
That left getting up close and personal.
I rolled forward and to my right at a forty-five-degree angle, narrowly dodging another swipe of the raven’s wing that came from that direction. Moving into an attack was typically not a natural response, but if I wanted to close the distance I needed to take risks. And, moving forward on the “V”—as it was known in Filipino martial arts—was often the best way to cut an angle on an attacker in order to hit it from the flank.
The nachtkrapp was fast and it had about ten feet of reach on me, but I was smaller and even quicker. The wing sliced the air where I’d stood a split second before, but my gamble paid off as I rolled to my feet behind it and within striking distance of the night raven’s left leg. Not quite close enough for a slash, I opted instead for a thrust, committing to the attack in a deep lunge that drove six inches of fiery steel into the bird’s thigh.
For a creature made from tattered cloth and shadow, it sure felt real when I hit it, much like stabbing a mattress or car seat. The nachtkrapp’s reaction was real enough as well, responding with a shriek and a kick from that leg that might have disemboweled me if I hadn’t recovered from my lunge in time to pivot clear. Talons like iron-tipped ebony spears struck the floor as they missed, splintering wood.
But the creature had overcommitted, as large monsters often did. Before it could recover and spin to face me, I was slashing at the nachtkrapp’s ragged tail feathers and back, alighting cloth, wood, and feathers with each stroke. Although the shadowy parts of the creature’s body swirled and healed almost immediately, the tattered material that comprised the rest of it did not. Fire began to flicker and catch everywhere my attacks hit solid material, as those areas proved to be quite combustible.
Within the span of three quick cuts, half its tail feathers and back were aflame, with those flames spreading rapidly to the rest of its body. The nachtkrapp released another cawing roar as it tried to turn and face me. I wasn’t about to give up my superior position, so I stepped lightly and quickly to match its movements, staying in its blind spot. With each step I delivered yet another cut, catching it on fire in multiple places.
Although shadow creatures had little to fear from fire, this one obviously had a magical connection to the chair that had kept it trapped. The problem was, I didn’t know whether destroying its physical body would release it or kill it. Lacking a better plan to take the thing out of commission, I kept hacking at it while hoping that the “burn it with fire” approach would do the trick.
Soon, the night raven’s entire body was aflame, causing it to screech and caw in pain as it thrashed about. The shadow bird released one final cry before exploding into shadow, flame, and smoke with a loud whoomp. The pressure wave blew me back, sending me tumbling head over heels as my sword clattered across the floor. I picked myself up, searching for the weapon as I slapped at a few smoldering cinders that threatened to light my clothes on fire. Once I’d located my now-extinguished blade, I turned my attention back to the night raven.
Apparently, I’d been wrong about destroying the entity with fire. Where a giant thing made of wood, cloth, and metal had stood moments before, there now floated a creature of similar proportions made entirely of shadow and smoke. Thankfully, it seemed to want nothing to do with me, and I watched as it transformed into an inky flock of blackbirds that fluttered up into the shadows above.
“Uh-uh, you’re not getting away that easily. Justice must be served and shit.”
The shrill cacophony of an entire flock of ravens was the nachtkrapp’s only reply to my threats.
I wove a quick pattern in the air with my free hand, matching the final stroke of the gesture with a command word. A brilliant ball of white light sprang from my hand toward the ceiling, where it stuck like the spit wads I used to shoot in my high school economics class. I covered my eyes with my arm just before the glowing orb flashed, releasing about 1,000 lumens of magical light into the room.
As the deepest and darkest corners of the ceiling above were bathed in brilliant white light, a shadowy flock of a hundred cawing blackbirds coalesced at the farthest end of the building. The shadow creature burst into action as the lot of them fluttered to and fro overhead, first
heading for one open window and then the next. Each time the night raven tried to escape the building, blue light flared in front of it as the wards I’d set triggered in response to the creature’s magic.
“I hate to tell you this, Big Bird, but you’re locked in here with me.” I paused as the cloud of bird-shaped shadows retreated as far away from my light orb as possible. “If you’ll just tell me where the kids are, then maybe I’ll end your miserable existence peacefully. But if you decide to drag this thing on, it won’t go well for you.”
In the far corner where the flock of shadow birds had retreated, they flapped about in a swirling, panicked mass of darkness. Soon, that shadowy mass spread into the room, a living cloud of black fog that fought against my illumination spell. The darkness pushed the light back like surf crashing against a shoreline, and soon the inky dimness reached the light orb I’d cast.
As the opposing magics touched, the nachtkrapp’s magic engulfed my own, leaving me as blind as Stevie Wonder in a vampire’s casket.
“Aw, hell,” I muttered, blinking and rubbing my eyes.
I spun in place, swinging my sword in random circles in a near panic as I felt the night raven’s fear magic exerting its effects once more. Before the terror could take hold again my amulet flared, the wards responding to the influence of the night raven’s fear spell. As the fear subsided, I quickly assessed the situation.
Besting the monster here and now was my chief and foremost concern. If I was forced to retreat, I’d necessarily have to break my containment wards as I exited the building, and that would allow the nachtkrapp to escape. Moreover, I was fighting a creature of a non-corporeal nature, which meant that my usual brute force approach was useless against it. With that in mind, I reviewed what limited options I had for either capturing or destroying the creature.