The Junkyard Druid Box Set 2

by M. D. Massey

  At the end of that exchange, we ended up in a bind, locking blades in equal forte so neither of us had an advantage over the other in leverage. I leaned in, not showing my full strength but matching his, sinew for sinew. Hideie’s weird bird eyes narrowed again, those black and citrine globes closing to slits as he considered the situation. My instincts told me he was about to pull some hinky shit, so I readied a spell.

  That’s when the fucker whipped a wing around to smack me right in the eye.

  The impact wasn’t hard enough to injure or stun me, but that hadn’t been the point. Hideie had been trying to distract me, and getting hit in the eye with a giant-sized wing did exactly that. The tengu used the opening to break away from our bind, and by the time I realized what had happened, I felt cold steel at my neck.

  “Drop the sword, please.”

  “That was poorly done,” I protested, doing as he asked and letting my longsword clang to the concrete beneath our feet. “After our last encounter, I at least expected a fair fight.”

  Hideie’s feathered eyebrow arched at me. “And you were not cheating? Come now, McCool-san—you can’t expect me to believe that you aren’t using magic to enhance your physical attributes. Certainly, for a human you are at the peak of your potential. However, you could never match my strength, speed, and reflexes without some sort of supernatural assistance.”

  Obviously, Hideie thought I’d enhanced my physical capabilities with some sort of spell. I wasn’t about to disabuse him of that notion, so I decided to let him think he was onto something.

  “Do I need to point out you have every advantage over me in my human form? Oh, wait—of course I don’t, because you just did. And after having my ass served to me on a platter the last time we fought, did you really expect me to take you on without using magic?”

  “A fair point,” he replied. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to conclude this business. The damp in here is playing havoc with my feathers.”

  “Better hope my other half doesn’t decide to come out before you slice my head off.”

  The tengu craned his neck and let out a cackling, crow-like laugh. “Oh, McCool-san. You are a very funny young man. If I had wanted you dead, I’d have killed you when we first met. No, I think I will not kill you, today. Shall we call a truce?”

  “A truce? Then why did you lure me down here and ambush me?”

  “If you’ll recall, it was you who attacked me. Right after I had greeted you, in fact. I am not the aggressor here.”

  I had to admit he was right, but hell if I would admit it out loud. “Alright, a truce it is.”

  He drew his blade away from my neck with a flourish, as if flinging blood from the blade. Then, he sheathed the weapon and deposited it back into the weird pocket dimension from whence it came. I pointed at my sword, which was partially submerged in a shallow stream of water.

  “Do you mind? I’d rather dry it off now than have to polish the rust off later.” The birdman nodded, so I picked the blade up and wiped it dry on my jeans. Then, I sheathed it and stuffed it into my Bag. “So—if you didn’t bring me down here to kill me, can you tell why I’m standing in the world’s biggest storm drain having a convo with the yōkai who stole my magic rock?”

  Hideie clasped his hands behind his back, reminding me of Chow Yun-fat in Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon. “As to why we’re inside a storm drain, well—you are the one who is currently being hunted by the Circle, yes?”

  I shrugged. “I suppose.”

  “As I understand it, you were tossed from the eighty-fifth floor of their headquarters building this afternoon. After starting a fight with the entire High Council, that is.”

  “Yup.”

  “Which tells me you know the stakes, and what is at risk if my former employer is able to carry out his plans.”

  I scratched my head. “You’ll need to elaborate on that one, Hideie.”

  The tengu frowned. “Hmm. Suffice it to say that Welsh gods are not the only ones who can walk the Twisted Paths.”

  “You’re surprisingly well-informed regarding my companions, Hideie.”

  “We tengu usually are.”

  I sat on a nearby ledge and let out a sigh. “How much do you know? Wait, I have a better question—if you can see the future, then why did you help them steal the Eye in the first place?”

  “What do I know? I know those fools are about to trigger an apocalypse—one they think they can control, but they will not. As for your second question, I’m a demon. Any sufficiently powerful mage can summon me, bind me, and place me under a geas.”

  “Just curious, how many mages are capable of doing that?”

  “Not many—a handful. And few would be foolhardy enough to do so, considering the consequences that would follow.”

  I gave a sympathetic nod. “So, why haven’t you taken this fool out yet?”

  “Because, McCool-san—he’s found a way to control the Eye.”

  Well, fuck.

  19

  “So, explain this to me again. Especially the parts that involve time travel and seeing into the future.”

  I was sitting on a concrete escarpment roughly six feet above the tunnel floor, with my legs dangling over the edge. Hideie was perched next to me—apparently wings make it difficult to sit like a normal biped. He’d been explaining events that occurred after he was summoned and placed under a geas by the mystery wizard-slash-stalker on the Circle’s High Council.

  “As I said, I was told to retrieve the Eye by any means necessary. That left me some leeway as to how I gained possession of the artifact. Understand, while we tengu can be forced into servitude by a sufficiently powerful magic-user, such service still requires a contract between summoner and subject. Thus, we use our natural cunning to negotiate the terms of our service down to the most minute detail. The idea is to wear the summoner out so they will eventually agree to less stringent demands than they had originally intended.”

  “Makes sense to me.”

  Hideie shook out his wings. I was starting to figure out his bird-like mannerisms, and I’d learned to interpret that particular gesture as a sign of displeasure.

  “It is distasteful for my kind to dissemble, because there is no honor in it. However, we do as we must to ensure our powers are not used to disturb the natural balance and order of things. And in this case, I suspected such an outcome would be difficult—if not impossible—to avoid.”

  I blew my cheeks out in a long exhale. “So, you decided to walk the Twisted Paths to see what might happen if you succeeded.”

  “Indeed, and what I saw chilled me to the bone. I know the Welsh trickster showed you a possible future, the most likely one. I saw that world myself, and it wasn’t just your beloved state of Texas that suffered. The repercussions were felt worldwide.” He paused to lick the edge of his lipless mouth. “McCool-san, did you know there are no references to vampires in Japanese folklore?”

  “I wasn’t aware. Why is that?”

  “Because they reminded the god Izanagi too much of his undead wife. After he trapped Izanami in the underworld, he saw to it that every last vampire in Japan was destroyed. To this day, they are seen as an abomination, and we have not tolerated their kind in my homeland since they were banished ages ago.” The tengu drew a long, shuddering breath. “Yet, in the future I saw, my beloved country had become infested by the creatures and their offspring.”

  “Revenants, ghouls, and zombies.”

  Hideie hung his head slightly and gave a weak nod. “Hordes of them. Like locusts, they destroyed everything in their wake and left the nation in ruins. The only humans left alive were gathered into concentration camps, cattle to feed the vampires who had invaded after the outbreak of undead. The sight haunts me still.”

  “I know the feeling.”

  “So, you see, I could not allow that future to come to pass. For that reason, I traveled other branches of the Twisted Paths until I found one where disaster had been avoided.”

  “Let
me guess—it was the one where I traveled to the future and lived out an entire season of The Walking Dead.”

  “Yes, or at least that future where you survived your encounters with the wizard who is now in possession of Balor’s Eye.”

  “Ahem—if you don’t mind me asking, how many timelines did you travel where I didn’t die?”

  Hideie looked away. “Eh, only one.”

  “And you said ‘encounters,’ as in plural. How many times do I face him?”

  “Three, and as you know, one battle has already passed. However, in most timelines, it is the third encounter in which you lose your life.” He paused, as if he wanted to say more. “I would provide details, but I fear it would cause you to act in a way that would ensure your defeat. Humans were not meant to know their futures.”

  “Yeah, you minor deities keep saying that, yet you play with time travel like it’s a Slinky.”

  “Not at all. Unlike that crazy Welsh magician, I rarely risk it. In fact, I would not be surprised if his meddling caused this entire mess.”

  I buried my face in my hands and chuckled humorlessly. “I can definitely see that happening.” I rubbed my face and blinked a few times, then looked the tengu in his weird raven eye. “Okay, so now I’m all caught up. What’s the play?”

  Hideie sighed, which sounded weird coming from his beak-like mouth. “Unfortunately, I cannot assist you directly in your attempts to get the Eye back. That was one of the stipulations in our contract. And believe me, it was a struggle to find a loophole that would allow me to provide any information on my former employer.”

  “Can you at least tell me his name?”

  “I cannot. He was quite clear about that during our negotiations.”

  I grabbed two fistfuls of hair and growled. “Gah! So, what can you tell me?”

  “A few things, which may or may not be useful. For one, you will bear witness to a great tragedy before your final battle with this person, so I implore you—do not lose hope.”

  “And when have I not witnessed great tragedies? My life has been one long tragic comedy since I learned about The World Beneath.”

  Hideie blinked. “I am sorry you feel that way, McCool-san. May I give you a bit of advice?”

  “Sure, why not?”

  “If you don’t want to be a pebble on a goban, then you need to become the person placing the stones on the board.”

  I chuffed at that remark. “I’ve been thinking that very same thing myself lately. Any other advice or info?”

  “Second, speak with the trickster again before your final confrontation with the enemy. And third, you should muster your forces before facing your third and final battle.”

  “So, stay positive, go see the arguably-insane trickster god, and bring back-up. Something tells me this whole thing is about to go sideways off a steep cliff.”

  Hideie blinked again, and his wings went still. “I am sorry I cannot be of more assistance. When this is over, please seek me out again so that I might offer retribution for any troubles I caused you while in service to your enemy.”

  I clapped a hand on the birdman’s shoulder, causing him to stiffen. “You know what, Hideie? For a demon-slash-goblin who stole my magic rock and made me think my mom was dead, you’re not half bad.”

  By the time I was done conversing with the tengu, night had fallen. Due to the geas placed on him, Hideie refused to verify the location of our mystery wizard. Despite his reticence, his eyes twinkled when I mentioned the address Crowley had given me, and he said something to the effect of, “When threatened, a swallow will always fly back to its nest.” I took that as confirmation enough.

  Germain and I had decided to surveil the place to make certain the wizard would be there. He seemed to think that Remy would show his face as well. I badly wanted a piece of the guy, but if it came down to choosing between the Eye and revenge, I could square things with the New Orleans coven leader another day.

  Crowley had indicated our target was currently located in one of the penthouse suites at the 360 Condo building. So, we set up shop at the ugly jigsaw-looking tower that was under construction across the way. It was several stories taller than the high-rises adjacent to it, allowing us a direct view of the penthouse suites in the other building. And while we didn’t see Mr. Mysterious, we did spot Remy DeCoudreaux himself hanging out on the rooftop balcony, soaking in a hot tub while he snacked on a couple of human hotties.

  Bullseye.

  I tapped Germain on the shoulder. “Time to go. If we hurry, we can catch them with their pants down—maybe literally, the way Remy is going.”

  The old vamp held up a hand, motioning for me to wait. He was still casing the place with a pair of binos. “Ah-ha, I knew it. See for yourself.”

  I grabbed the binoculars and checked the windows, doors, and balconies again. It didn’t take long to locate a couple of familiar faces.

  “Gaius and Cornelius? I thought they were working for you.”

  “Apparently not. Perhaps our recent alliance has something to do with it. You did behead their beloved Lucius, after all.”

  “Meh, he deserved it. But should we be worried?”

  Germain absently stroked a bottle on his bandolier. “Gaius is no concern at all. But Cornelius—well, he does present a problem. He is an old and skilled combatant. And since you killed his son, he will be out for blood—quite literally, I believe.”

  “Yeah, I’ve seen him fight. He had magical assistance at the time, but he nearly beat Luther. Even for a cheat, that’s no easy challenge.” The vampire chuckled at the understatement. “How do you want to play this?”

  “It’s your city, monsieur. You tell me how we should handle the situation.”

  “Honestly, I’d like to shift and hop right the fuck in their laps, guns blazing and dick swinging. I figure I’ll start off by throwing Remy right off the fucking balcony, followed by Gaius and Cornelius. Then, I’ll squeeze that freaky wizard until his head pops off like a champagne cork. Unless you have a better plan.”

  “Might I remind you that I cannot fly? And that Cornelius and his son can?”

  “Ah, hell. I forgot about that.” I considered the problem for a moment. “I could throw you.”

  “How—unseemly. Perhaps if I just entered through the front door? I’m certain I can get past Remy’s ‘goons,’ as you called them, and cause enough of a distraction so you can make a surprise entrance. I for one would very much like to see you toss Remy off the roof. He does not fly, either.”

  “What is his talent, anyway?”

  Germain’s lips curled into the barest hint of a frown, as if someone had farted in his vicinity and he was pretending he didn’t notice. “Pheromones. He charms women and gets them to do his bidding. I’ll leave the rest to your imagination.”

  “Now I really want to kill him.”

  “Indeed. And while I cannot fly, I do move rather quickly. Give me two minutes, then you may initiate your attack.”

  “Will d—”

  The vamp had already vanished in a blur before I could answer him. Much as leeches give me the creeps, I gotta admit, that’s pretty cool.

  The map app on my phone said it was about four hundred and fifty feet from the edge of this building to the penthouse. Fully-shifted, my top speed on foot was about fifty—and that was if I had enough space to get up to that speed. That meant I’d need to be airborne for six seconds to make it across the gap.

  I’m going to need some elevation to stick this jump.

  I headed up to the highest level and backed up to the other side of the building. Then, I set the clock on my phone to count down from a minute-thirty and started shucking clothes so I could make the shift. After the change was complete, I placed a few goodies at the top of my Bag and waited.

  Five seconds before my timer went off, I saw Remy’s head snap toward the front door of the condo.

  Showtime. Ready or not, motherfuckers, here I come.

  The top level had just been added, so it was m
ostly an empty shell. That allowed me to get a running start—and let me tell you, a Fomorian at a full sprint is no joke. I launched myself over the side of the building at top speed, leaping as high as I could to add some arc to my trajectory. Legs and arms flailing to maintain flight stability, I soared through the air like the Hulk with the wind whistling in my ears.

  Speaking of wind, when I was about halfway across the chasm between the two buildings, I realized I’d failed to account for two things—air resistance and wind shear. Not only was I going to miss my mark; I was going to hit the building about four stories below the penthouse level.

  Well, shit.

  On instinct, I curled into a ball and covered my face to protect my eyes. Two seconds later, I landed on someone’s balcony and smashed through a sliding glass door at roughly forty miles an hour. The glass they use on high-rises is laminated safety glass, so it doesn’t shatter into a thousand little pieces the way they show in the movies. Instead, it spiderwebs as it gives, but that kind of glass is designed to stay in the frame when it breaks.

  So, my ten-foot-tall, eight-hundred-pound ass took out the entire door frame on my way into the building.

  I rolled as I hit the floor of the apartment, shedding the glass and door frame as I popped up on my hands and knees. The ceiling was too low to stand upright, so I remained in a crouch as I got my bearings. A couple stood in the apartment’s kitchen just off the living room, utterly still with their mouths agape.

  “Um, sorry about the mess. I’d help you clean up, but I have somewhere to be.”

  The couple continued staring.

  “Ma’am, can you tell me your unit number? That way I can send an insurance adjuster over to assess the damage.”

  The lady blinked a few times before stuttering a reply. “U-unit f-four-zero-one-six.”

  “Great, my insurance agent will be in touch. Enjoy your evening!”