The Junkyard Druid Box Set 2

by M. D. Massey

  Hemi grinned ear to ear as he hollered over his shoulder at me. “You got that Bag, aye? I think you’re good, mate!”

  “Fine, be that way,” I said, ducking under a ghoul’s lunging grasp as I stuck Dyrnwyn’s blade through the underside of its jaw and out the top of the thing’s head. “Keep your secrets—but I’ll remember that the next time you need a ride to the grocery store.”

  “Eh, Maki takes care of that stuff now,” he replied, spinning and striking with his club in dizzying patterns. Each time the club changed direction it hit something, caving in skulls, snapping bones, and sending ghouls flying. “Can’t hold that one over me.”

  “See how you are?” I said as I dropped into a spinning sweep kick to take a revenant’s legs out from under it. I followed through with a backhand slice of my blade as it fell, severing its torso just below the rib cage. “You get a girlfriend and suddenly you’re all, ‘I don’t need you anymore, Colin.’ What ever happened to bros before—”

  “Watch it!” he warned, with a dangerous look in his eye. “Manners, and all that.”

  “Okay, okay,” I pouted as I finished the still-squirming corpse off by separating its head from its shoulders. “Sheesh.”

  Although Hemi and I had mowed down the first wave, there were still more revs and ghouls coming out of the cave. “Hemi, we don’t have time for this shit! Move back so I can cut loose on them.”

  Hemi swung for the fences, tossing a few limp ghoul corpses toward the advancing crowd. Then he skipped aside, surprisingly quick on his feet despite his size. Once he was clear, I muttered a spell and launched a fireball into the midst of the undead. It bowled a few over, torching through flesh and charring bone along the way. But that wasn’t the effect I was looking to achieve.

  “Pléascann!” I shouted, uttering the trigger word in badly-accented Gaelic.

  The fireball exploded in an expanding ball of superheated gas that enveloped everything inside the mouth of the cave. Most of the undead were consumed by the flames, but the blast also sent goop and body parts flying everywhere, and I caught a lump of steaming slime in the face. Meanwhile, Hemi had ducked around the side of the cave entrance, managing to avoid the worst of it.

  I wiped cooked ghoul muck off and slung it to the ground as Hemi applauded my performance. “Well done—in more ways than one, aye?”

  “Let’s just go rescue Jesse, and let’s also agree not speak of this again. Ever.”

  Hemi chuckled softly. “Oh, slim chance of that, mate,” he said, snapping a picture of me with the burner phone Fallyn had given him. “This is going on Faebook.”

  Inside, the cave narrowed before opening up into a wider tunnel that led on into the darkness ahead. Hemi couldn’t see as well as I could in the dark, so I conjured a small globe of light that bobbed above us, just beneath the ceiling some fifteen feet overhead. Despite that, the shadows seemed to push the cold white light cast by the orb back toward us. And every so often, I’d see shades flitting past out of the corner of my eye.

  “See that, mate?” Hemi whispered.

  I glanced around, checking my flanks instinctively for an attack. “We’re definitely not alone. Let’s keep moving, but be ready for anything.”

  Hemi took up the rear guard, walking backwards at times while I took the lead and pushed ahead. As we went deeper into the cave, the darkness grew until it became unnaturally thick, and the pool of illumination cast by my light spell receded with every step. I’d seen this sort of thing before, when I’d fought against a nachtkrapp that had been abducting children in Fredericksburg. Certain creatures of the dark had a knack for manipulating shadow, intensifying it and even creating constructs from the darkness that were substantial enough to do real physical harm.

  Low, chattering voices began to echo from the dark around us, accompanied by evil, tittering laughter. Glowing orbs appeared in the darkness—grapefruit-sized balls of eerie red, orange, and yellow light that faded in and out of existence as they floated around us, always just out of reach. They began swooping in closer as we moved ahead, blinking in and out in patterns that made it difficult to gauge their location and bearing.

  “Don’t let those orbs touch you,” I said in a low voice. “I’m pretty sure they’re lost souls, the kind that feed on living energy.”

  “You don’t need to tell me,” Hemi said. “Seen similar stuff in the underworld.”

  Not wanting to swing a blade with Hemi in such close quarters, I slipped Drynwyn into my Bag, reaching for my war club instead. It had proven time and again to be effective against all things fae, and while these orbs weren’t made of fae magic, they definitely had the same alien presence about them.

  More orbs flashed and swooped around us, edging closer and closer by the second. I took a tentative swing at a yellow orb that came too close for comfort, but it changed course on a dime, flitting away before it disappeared. This seemed to embolden the others, and soon we were ducking orbs and swatting at them as they passed, to little effect.

  One brushed against my shoulder, numbing it instantly. The orb that touched me brightened after making contact, while I felt weakened and slightly diminished. Another skimmed past Hemi’s leg, barely touching him. The Maori warrior stumbled, clutching his leg where it had struck.

  “Leg’s numb. Damned things pack a wallop.”

  “Can you walk?” I asked.

  “Yup, but if we get swarmed we’re goners.”

  Plan B time.

  “Hang on, I have an idea.”

  If I was right about the nature of the orbs—that they were lost souls under Ernesto’s control—then they’d have the same weaknesses as ghosts. I could use my remaining rock salt to pour a ward circle around us, but then we’d be stuck here. Obviously, that wouldn’t do us or Jesse much good.

  What I need is a ward that can move with us.

  An orb swooped in, catching Hemi in the upper arm.

  “Gah, bloody things!” he exclaimed, grabbing his arm, which now hung a bit slacker than it had before.

  Another came in low at my ankles, and I just barely moved out of the way in time to avoid it. The others began to circle us, like sharks coming in for the kill.

  Or piranhas.

  “Keep them away from me while I come up with something to fend them off, alright?”

  “I’ll do my best!” Hemi said. “But be quick!”

  I sat down cross-legged with my war club in my lap, chewing my thumbnail. Hemi stood over me, spinning and twirling his own club while chanting to activate his runes. I heard and felt the stick spinning and whirring, acting a temporary shield to protect us, but only for so long.

  If only he could spin that thing in all directions at once.

  I tried to relax while Fionn’s magic did its thing. The magic allowed me to see the big picture, and while I was under its spell, connecting the dots to solve a given problem came easy to me. Despite its utility, I tended to avoid using it, more out of pride than anything. But now wasn’t the time for foolish pride.

  Hemi’s stick whistled past my face, just inches away as it did the work of shielding us from the orbs.

  “Any time now, Colin!” he shouted. “These little shits are getting cheeky!”

  Shield… spinning… bingo! You suckers are gonna love this.

  I focused on the air around us, grabbing it and forcing it into a vortex that created a sort of dust devil in a vertical column that was just a foot or so wider than Hemi’s reach with that club. Once I had the air rotating fast enough to support it, I reached inside my Bag for a handful of rock salt, infusing it with just enough of my magic to make it obey my will.

  Then, I tossed the salt in the air.

  Immediately, the churning air currents picked it up, spreading it throughout the spinning column. Undaunted, one of the orbs attempted to fly through my “salt-devil,” with disastrous consequences. As soon as the orb made contact with the salt, it burst like a balloon in a flash of sickly green light. Then there was a loud, shrieking wail tha
t trailed off into the distance until it was gone.

  I kept the salt vortex moving, focusing my intentions and magic so it picked up speed. Another orb attempted to pass through the barrier, only to meet with a similar fate. When a third orb failed as well, the rest began winking out, one by one, until the only glowing globe left was that of my original light spell.

  “Well, that was darned impressive,” the Maori remarked.

  As I released the spell, the salt dropped to the ground in a neat circle around us. I scooped up as much as I could, tossing it back in the jar in my Bag.

  “C’mon, they’ll be back if we hang around. Let’s go get Jesse.”

  Hauling ass out of that chamber, we rounded a corner into a tunnel that led straight ahead for a good thirty yards. A glance over my shoulder told me those orb thingies weren’t coming back for another go around, so I set my eyes on what might lie ahead.

  Through the opening at the end of the tunnel I saw a large, flat boulder that had been crudely carved into the shape of an altar. Necromantic runes and symbols had been painted all over it in what was most certainly fresh human blood. As I watched, the runes began to emanate a dark energy that appeared to eat the light around them, casting the chamber in reverse exposure as the magic increased in intensity. The cavern shook, causing dust and pebbles to drop from the ceiling all around, and dark, wispy shadow-creatures began to flit and fly about inside the chamber.

  I knew bad portents when I saw them, and this was an eleven on the ten-scale of “pretty fucked up.” But worst of all, a limp, unconscious form lay on top of the altar.

  Jesse!

  The Dark Druid stood behind her, chanting incantations and waving his arms around with an exultant look on his face. As he wove his spell, tendrils of dark magic wrapped around and enveloped Jess, lifting her off the table like an audience volunteer in a Vaudeville magic act. Then, a black and green mist began to flow out of Jesse’s body, coalescing in a tight whirlwind pattern that the necromancer sucked into himself.

  It looked as if he were breathing in her life force. And for all I knew, he was.

  “Damn it, he’s already started the ritual!” I said, taking off at a sprint with Dyrnwyn in hand.

  “Right behind you, bro,” Hemi said, his much heavier footfalls first echoing mine step for step, and then falling back as I poured on the speed.

  In my human form, I could run a hundred yards in under eleven seconds—not fast enough for a spot on the Olympic team, but still enough to beat most humans on foot. But in my stealth-shifted form, I was easily the equal of any normal ’thrope or baby vamp in speed, strength, and reflexes. Ten seconds in the 100 meters might be the benchmark for an Olympic-level sprinter, but for a supe? Try six seconds, which is about the time it takes for a cheetah to run the same distance.

  So, when I hit the magical barrier, I was doing close to fifty miles per hour with no intention of slowing down. It was a rookie mistake. The Fear Doirich wasn’t just any magic-user. He was among the world’s preeminent practitioners of the craft, having studied and perfected the druidic and dark arts for millennia. And to say he had a nasty mean streak, well—that would be an understatement.

  The instant my body made contact with the Dark Druid’s enchantment, three things happened. First, the barrier lit me up with about 100,000 volts of electricity via a full-fledged lightning strike delivered straight to my chest. Second, the electrical discharge superheated the air around me, resulting in a flash burn over the entire front half of my body. And third, the barrier exerted a concussive counterforce that was many times greater than the impact my body made when I triggered the trap, crunching my bones like peanut brittle.

  Thankfully, Hemi was about a dozen yards behind me at the time, otherwise I’d have had nothing to break my fall when I went flying backward at highway speeds. I bowled him over, earning a few more broken bones in the process as I came into contact with his wards, and we landed in a heap twenty yards or so from the barrier. The entire episode had left me semi-conscious, but I had the wherewithal to attempt rolling over so I could see how Jesse fared.

  An agonizing shriek filled the tunnel, and at first I thought it might be Jess, screaming out in pain at what the Dark Druid was doing to her. Then I realized it was me, a reaction to having my shattered radius and ulna forced through the skin and flesh of my forearm. It shouldn’t have been such a shock, but it hadn’t occurred to me how badly I might be injured, at least not until I tried to make my body respond to simple commands.

  Hemi gingerly attempted to extricate himself from under me, but every move he made caused my broken bones to grind together in multiple places. My reaction was more screaming and cursing. Between the agony of my Fomorian healing factor attempting to realign and put me back together, the burns to my chest, torso, and face, and Hemi jostling me around, I was not having a very good day.

  “Sorry, bro!” Hemi exclaimed.

  “Just… help… Jesse,” I wheezed, realizing at that moment that I had a rib sticking out of my chest on the left side of my rib cage.

  “But, Colin—”

  “Go!” I said, rolling myself off him with a primal scream of rage and pain, accompanied by the sound of multiple broken and splintered bones grinding and rubbing together. I passed out for a moment, only to come back to my senses when my Fomorian blood decided it was time for my Hyde-side to come out.

  An extended, unintelligible groan was the only sound I could get out of my mouth as dozens of shattered bones realigned all at once, knitting together as they simultaneously lengthened, thickened, and healed. I’d thought that shifting rapidly was a nearly unbearable agony when I’d started the process whole and well, but no—this was an entirely new level of suffering. Despite my Hyde-side being in the driver’s seat, I nearly blacked out again.

  Groggily, I started coming to my senses when I heard a thunderous hammering nearby.

  Boom. Boom. BOOM!

  If a hill giant had decided to bang out a rhythm on a giant hollowed out oak tree, it might have sounded like that. Chanting and growls accompanied the noise, in a language and voice I recognized.

  It’s Hemi—he’s trying to break through the barrier.

  Tuning it all out, I concentrated only on speeding up the healing process so I could be ready to help Jesse and deal with the Fear Doirich when his wards fell.

  16

  Finally, I was whole enough to move. Thankfully, pain tolerance wasn’t really a thing for Fomorians—they thrived on it. Pushing myself up on one massive, overly-muscular arm, I snapped the other arm out with a whipping motion, forcing the still broken bones in my forearm to realign all at once so they could mend completely.

  Why’s it so quiet all of a sudden?

  I sat up and rolled up to one knee in a single, somewhat smooth motion. My right leg hadn’t completely healed yet, and as I stood bones and connective tissues were still being knit back in place. Despite that, I rose to my feet, turning to see what had become of Hemi and Jess.

  My Maori friend stood framed by the tunnel exit, back turned to me, his war club dangling from one hand. I was much larger than him in this form, yet I still couldn’t see past him as his bulk blocked my view of the cavern beyond.

  “Hemi, what happened?” I demanded, stumbling toward him with increasingly confident strides. “Where’s Jesse?”

  He looked back at me. “She’s there, Colin, but—”

  I shoved him out of the way, squeezing past so I could get to Jess. She was there, alright, right where the Dark Druid had left her after he was done with her. Her hair had turned completely grey, her skin had wrinkled and turned translucent, and her plum-red lips had gone ashen and gray.

  In an instant I was next to her, lifting her limp body off the makeshift altar and cradling her in my arms. Her head lolled to the side, eyes dead and fixed and her mouth slack. She looked as though she’d aged eighty years, sucked dry of every last bit of life she’d possessed.

  I looked over my shoulder at a very stunned and
traumatized Hemi. His wide eyes welled up with tears, voice quivering as he spoke.

  “Colin, mate—I couldn’t break through in time.”

  “What happened? Tell me what you saw.”

  He staggered to the nearest wall, reaching out to shore himself up. “I saw you were healing, and figured I’d better break that barrier. Give you a clear shot once you came ’round, aye? I beat on it and beat on it, and felt it weakening. But the Dark Druid—he was well into that spell, you know?”

  Hemi heaved a shuddering sigh as he choked up.

  “I watched her, the whole time. He just—sucked the life right out of her, magic and all. It was awful. I’m so sorry, bro.”

  My head and shoulders drooped, eyes hot and wet with huge tears that plopped like raindrops all over Jesse’s face and chest.

  Hell of a thing, this. Never knew Fomorians could cry.

  I slumped down and sat against the rock, crying and rocking her back and forth. Apparently, the Fomorian physiology was incompatible with grief, and soon my body began the transformation back to my human self. Hemi came and sat next to me on the rock, clapping a hand on my shoulder as he muttered apologies and words of comfort and support.

  At some point Fallyn arrived, maybe minutes or hours after Jesse’s passing. It was hard to say how long it took for her to find us, as the only light in the cave came from torches that were close to burning out by the time she showed up. Hearing her familiar footfalls echo down the tunnel, I wiped my eyes and looked up to greet her when she walked in.

  “She’s gone, Fallyn. I failed her, again.”

  A large, strong hand squeezed my shoulder. “Now there, mate—don’t blame yourself. It was that evil bastard what did this, not you.”

  “What happened?” Fallyn said. “I went to hunt, and when I got back all I found was Hemi’s note.”