CHAPTER 27
As the sun rose, Sonya and I helped each other up the path toward the grove. We were both in bad shape. I don’t know which one of us was leaning on the other more. I was over twice her size, but that whole spirit-hybrid-strength thing provided one hell of a boost in the durability department.
Okay, I’ll be honest, she was the one mostly keeping me upright, because I was messed up.
“The Ward is going to be late,” I said, punch-drunk with words slurred through my swollen lips.
“I told Stricken to stall them. He wasn’t happy but he’ll deal with it.”
“You shouldn’t have come back for me.”
“You said to do what my dad would do. What would my dad have done?”
“Slutty elves.” Then I giggled.
“Shut up. I’m trying to be heroic.”
“Thanks.” I meant it. She’d saved my life. And to think she’d said she wouldn’t make a habit out of it. She was all about looking out for herself, but when the chips were down, she’d risked her life to save another’s. “That was a very Monster Hunter thing to do.”
She didn’t say anything to that.
The path Stricken had indicated was easy to follow. It looked like a regular old hiking trail winding between the very lush undergrowth. Thankfully it wasn’t too steep, because if it was, I’d have to stop and take a nap, but that was probably just the brain damage talking.
“We’ve got company,” Sonya said.
We were about a quarter mile from where we’d crashed and a couple hundred yards down the path, when I looked back over my shoulder to see that a green deuce-and-a-half truck had pulled off the road and was driving across the field after us. The tarp was down, revealing that the back of the truck was filled with men in black uniforms. The Gatos had found us.
We hobbled faster down the path, except from the way the truck was heading directly for us, we had already been spotted. I’d retrieved Cazador from the wreck, but there were far too many of them for me to try and shoot it out.
There were two stone statues just ahead, one on each side of the path. They were so weathered that it was hard to tell, but they had to be the image of some ancient goddess. They were solid enough to stop bullets though, so we could at least hide behind them.
The truck reached the edge of the field but was far too wide to make it up the path. It stopped. A bunch of men immediately bailed out and started shooting at us. The supersonic rifle bullets made a terrifying crack as they sped past. The subsonic pistol rounds sounded like angry bees buzzing by. The only thing that kept us from getting killed was the range, but they were making up for that with volume.
Except the instant we were past the statues, the noise abruptly stopped. It was dead quiet.
We had crossed a border.
This was Fey land.
The creatures appeared all around us, lining the path. Short and tall, thick or thin, but all oddly crooked things. Hairy beasts that looked like ogres but without heads and instead with eyes in their chests and mouths on their bellies. Gnome-sized things that looked like monkeys, but with a tail that ended in an all-too-human hand. And too many other strange new things I’d never seen before, all at once, jabbering and hooting, assaulting my already battered senses.
Marching toward us was a cadre of what had to be their soldiers, because their bearing reminded me of the Fey knights I’d fought in the Nightmare Realm. Only these were seven feet tall, bronze-skinned, wearing uniforms made of animal skins and decorated with bones, and carrying strange wooden weapons that appeared organically grown rather than built, studded with obsidian spikes—but these were clearly Fey knights, and thus scary as hell.
I looked back. There was a pile of bullets lying there on the path, like they’d instantly run out of energy and just fallen out of the sky, except they were still spinning from their rifling. I had no logical explanation for that. The Fey followed different laws of physics than we did.
In the distance, the death squad had stopped shooting, and that same too-familiar officer I’d seen earlier was madly gesturing for his men to cease fire. Apparently, his orders didn’t include starting shit with the Fey. Smart. I’d seen what these things could do.
Despite the crowd of fascinating weirdness, I had to stop and check myself for bullet holes, but my luck had held. “Are you okay?”
Except Sonya was just staring at the Fey, dumbstruck, because even though half her ancestors came from a different bizarro world, she’d mostly grown up like a human, and this had just gotten weird. There was a reason Earl always preached that the most important trait a Hunter could have was a flexible mind.
“Sonya!”
“I’m fine. Fine!”
The lead Fey knight stopped right in front of us. I couldn’t see his face because he was wearing a helmet made out of the bleached skull of some kind of predator I’d never seen before. There was no greeting. No elaborate introduction. He just pointed impatiently for us to continue down the path. We were late.
Except I had to check one thing first. I aimed Cazador at the death squad leader, and then cranked the magnification on the scope all the way up to twenty-five power so I could get a better look at the man.
Impossible.
I’d only ever seen him in human form once, and that had been in the brief instant before I’d shot him in the head. Except I was absolutely certain.
I’d seen through his eyes, lived his memories, felt what he’d felt, and knew just how insane he had been five hundred years ago, and that had been before he’d been cursed by the Old Ones and turned into a force of absolute evil. There was no way he could be here now, alive and seemingly human, but there he was. I had no doubt it was him.
It was Lord Machado!
It took me a second to get over the shock but fuck that guy. I estimated the range, adjusted for the holdover and wind, flipped the safety off, put my finger on the trigger and—
The Fey knight violently slapped Cazador’s muzzle down.
“Dahk!” That had to mean no. The blank skull face looked down at me and made an angry, disapproving gesture. Killing was not allowed. Just as the death squad wasn’t allowed to start a fight with the Fey here, neither were the Fey or their guests allowed to attack the servants of the Old Ones. This was neutral ground.
Too bad the Fey were fools. They didn’t realize how dangerous Lord Machado was. If he was back, things were far worse than anyone realized. But I also had no doubt these Fey would kill me before I could get off a shot if I tried again. I put Cazador back on safe. “After you.”
As the big truck with my somehow-returned-to-life enemy drove away, the band of monsters led me and Sonya to the meeting.
* * *
It was like walking into a living castle.
The grove was made out of the thickest, greenest plant life I’d ever seen. It was probably a pretty normal place most of the time, but with Fey royalty present the plants had taken on unnatural vitality, grown at mind-bending rate, and woven themselves into intricate designs to please their queen. The forest had grown into the form of a throne room. The canopy created a dome fifty feet tall, but with plenty of gaps to let in the perfect amount of light and shadow. All the blooming flowers probably smelled nice to everybody else, but they were hell on my allergies.
There were hundreds of odd beings assembled there. Fey come in all shapes and sizes, some familiar, others not, making it even harder to tell what they truly looked like. It was hard to tell which of the furs, feathers, bones, and plants on them were part of the creatures, and what was clothing. The visible skin was often painted in wild colors. It was hard to read their alien faces and body language, but some seemed curious, others haughty and dismissive of the humans who were petitioning them.
Stricken and Franks were standing before a throne made of flowering vines. Upon that throne sat what had to be the singlemost beautiful woman I had ever seen. I couldn’t even begin to describe her features because there weren’t human equivalents. She was absolute perfection. A goddess of sunshine, fertility, and rainbows, so I knew right away it was a bullshit illusion to trick us. Fey royalty looked like whatever they wanted to look like for their audience. From what I’d read about various queens, her real form could be a cockroach and she’d still come across as angelic if that behooved her at the time.
Stricken was talking. We’d caught him mid-presentation, giving the massaged version of Franks’ résumé. “After defeating the hosts of hell, who brazenly tricked me into giving them Earthly bodies, Franks has since continued to serve as a Chosen of the God of Light, as a champion of righteousness and dispenser of indiscriminate justice.”
Well, that was certainly one way to put it. Stricken was stalling because it had to be hard for him to give Franks such a fluffy introduction. Meanwhile, Franks didn’t look too good. He’d TQed his arm, packed a bunch of bandages into the gaping hole in his chest, and since he was still standing, had probably taken some of his Elixir of Life. Despite that, the assembled Fey still seemed nervous or impressed, because Franks’ reputation preceded him. Human, demon, Fey, or other, nobody wanted to mess with Franks.
The queen spoke. “It appears the rest of the supplicants have arrived.”
As expected, her voice was melody incarnate. She made Sonya’s angelic singing sound like a toilet flushing. Her powers of seduction made Lana’s look like a five-dollar crack whore in comparison. It was no wonder the ancients had worshipped these things across the globe. I forced myself to focus on the task at hand. I wasn’t going to let some Fey get into my head.
Stricken turned, saw that we were both alive, and then immediately went on with his pitch. I bet he had different intros prepared if I, Sonya, both, or neither had died. “To further demonstrate the seriousness of our endeavor, I bring before you a weapon of unmatchable power, placed inside the body of a royal of the Yokai Realm for safekeeping.”
I looked at Sonya. Royal?
“And a second Chosen capable of using such a device, the breaker of time, the god slayer, Owen Zastava Pitt.”
There were actually gasps and murmuring from the audience. Apparently, Franks wasn’t the only one around here with a rep.
“Hey.” I waved at the crowd.
Sonya and I took our place next to Stricken and Franks.
The queen looked over our motley bunch, judging. Either she was speaking English for our benefit, or her words were being magically translated for our ears. “It’s unfortunate that these two insulted me by missing the ritual of the sainted sun.”
“Sorry,” I said. “It was a terrible commute.”
The queen raised one magnificent eyebrow, and I shut up before she ordered me smitten. Smote? Whatever. It’s hard to be tactful when you’ve had a week like I had.
“You are from Monster Hunter International, yes?”
Apparently, she had heard of us. Hopefully it wasn’t because we’d blown a bunch of her subjects on some case I didn’t know about. “I am.”
“Do you know the Hunter called Chloe Mendoza?”
I think I’d seen that name on some really old PUFF paperwork from our California team, but that had been long before my time. “It sounds familiar, but no.”
The queen nodded but remained inscrutable.
“Forgive them, your majesty. The forces of the Old Ones and Asag conspired to stop us. The evil factions do not wish an interruption to their war which is currently being waged across your lands. We do, in order to ensure the safety of your kingdom, and ours.”
“As I was warned is your way, Stricken, you speak only part of the truth. I have been watching. You were also delayed because one of the creatures you tried to bend to your will had a mind of his own. You were not able to control that one.”
“Silas Carver was an obstinate sort. I’m afraid that arrangement didn’t work out as I hoped.”
“I shall forgive the late arrival of the Hunter and the yokai. He showed courage and she demonstrated loyalty. While the fallen, who doubtlessly would have preferred to battle, stood in their place out of a sense of duty. Courage, loyalty, and duty are traits appreciated in my court. Thus I forgive this slight.” The queen waved one had dismissively. “However, as for Silas Carver, he is not here.”
That was because I’d stomped a kukri through his face, but I refrained from saying that out loud.
The queen seemed disappointed. “Alas, you knew what I required.”
“Indeed, your majesty. When I approached your sister about arranging this meeting, she told me that you would require a special gift for your collection.”
Collection? I had no idea what this particular Fey queen collected. Apparently, neither did Franks because he got an even grimmer than usual look on his face. I was really hoping she was into Beanie Babies or Furbies or something other than Chosen.
“I prefer to think of it as my menagerie, though you humans would call it a zoo. I have accumulated the finest selection of terrible beasts from a multitude of realms. One of the thirteen Drekavacs would have been a splendid addition. Delivering such a creature into my hands would’ve demonstrated your conviction and worthiness to move freely through my realm.”
Stricken was even more malicious than I’d thought. He had tried to force the Drekavac into service not to use him, but to sacrifice him.
“Ah, but I always have a backup plan, your majesty. Which is why I procured another worthy gift, just in case.”
“If you speak of your succubus, I already have one. They are not particularly powerful. I find their insatiable nature predictable.”
“Indeed. I would never bore you by offering a creature so one-dimensional. Which is why I brought you this.” Stricken reached into one of the interior pockets of his suit and pulled out a chain. He held it up so the amber ball on the end of it could catch the light.
“A lich’s phylactery?” The queen seemed intrigued. “Is it full?”
“Yes. It contains the soul of a mad wizard named Buford Phipps, guilty of many heinous crimes and sins against nature over hundreds of years. I discovered the secret location of his phylactery, and then arranged for his physical form to be destroyed. Take it and do with it as you will. It is my gift to you.”
This son of a bitch was full of surprises. Sonya looked like she wanted to punch him. Stricken had used her as bait to get MHI to take out Phipps for him. If Boone hadn’t gotten the word from one of his contacts, Stricken probably would’ve had Lana give us an anonymous tip anyway. No matter what happened, Stricken was always ready to capitalize on it.
The queen made a gesture, and a little froglike humanoid bounced over to Stricken to take the phylactery. Stricken handed the cursed item over to the creature, who bit it like a coin to see if it was real. The monster croaked, which must have meant it was legit and chock full of evil soul juice, because the queen gave us a radiant smile.
“It is no Drekavac, but truly a wonderous gift nonetheless.”
The frog thing took the phylactery and scurried out of sight. That was probably the end of the Shackleford family tradition of each generation getting to kick the ass of that particular lich.
“And with that, your terms have been met,” Stricken said. His tone suddenly shifted from unctuous suck-up to his regular self. “All that mandatory courtly fluff out of the way, can we get down to business now? Both of our worlds are suffering while Asag and the Old Ones duke it out in your kingdom. We require your permission to enter your realm so that we can destroy their armies. This is a win-win for both our species.”
“You will have to battle your way through great evil in your own world to reach the heart of the disturbance. The enemy will try to stop you every step of the way. How do you intend to accomplish such a feat?”
“There is an ancient saying among my people, knowing is half the battle. I have that knowledge. The other half is extreme violence, which is what I’ve got these people for.” Stricken gave her a charming smile and she seemed to approve of his answer. “Now that Franks and Pitt are committed, surely a bunch of warriors from MHI and the MCB are already on their way to help too. Whatever Secret Guard who are still alive out there, and whoever else we can scrounge up at short notice will assist us along the Earthly path. Once we break through the enemy lines, the select few you have granted access to your lands will engage your enemy directly. I’m asking on behalf of these champions—we’ll probably add a couple of werewolves with that title too—along with the scions of great family lines, like the greatest family of monster hunters in human history, to be granted free passage into and through your realm.”
That was an accurate thing to say about the Shacklefords, but I’d only married into that family. Stricken probably assumed Julie would show up, which was a safe bet with me being in danger. He didn’t need to add that family line thing to get her a pass though, because she bore the Guardian’s mark, which made her Chosen too. So either Stricken didn’t know about that, or maybe he thought her brother Nathan might come too.
The queen weighed his words carefully. All Fey, even the warlike ones, were known for being tricky with their words. “A family title earned through blood and effort rather than inheritance . . . Very well. Those terms are acceptable. And then?”
“That select group will then destroy the forces of your two enemies using the Newtonian weapon which I’ve procured. Asag and the Old Ones will be driven from your kingdom.”
“Asag fled to our lands after mankind destroyed his fortress in the north. The Old Ones saw their opportunity and attacked him there. My kingdom has been their battlefield ever since.” The queen leaned forward; the shift was subtle, just a change in attitude more than appearance, but suddenly the grove took on an aura of menace. This was also a goddess of war, and she liked the idea of slaughtering her enemies in one fell swoop. “You have the Ward?”
“Show her, Princess.”
Sonya hesitantly stepped forward, then pulled down the neck of her shirt to reveal the stone still embedded in her chest. If the crowd had gotten a little interested when I’d been introduced, they got downright chattery when they saw the Ward Stone. I didn’t think it could blow up Fey like it did undead, but the device still seemed to freak them out. Or maybe it had a setting for that too? Isaac Newton had been full of surprises.
“Princess?” I whispered to Stricken.
“You called her that earlier. I thought you knew,” he whispered back, not taking his eyes off the queen.
“I was being insulting.”
“I was being accurate.” Then Stricken raised his voice again. “As you can see, the heir of the Kodama line has risked her health to keep the Ward safe from harm.”
“My spies tell me that this was an unforeseen development.”
“I wasn’t expecting Sonya to rob me, but I liked her moxy. We adapted and rolled with it. Now we are allies.”
“Best friends forever,” Sonya said, and managed to not sound too sarcastic. “We should get a pic of this for my Instagram.”
Except the queen seemed to enjoy Sonya’s presence. I didn’t know how all the various realms worked, but they were probably distant cousins. “So many children of fate being drawn together is a sign of great portent. Come. I wish to examine this weapon.”
The queen didn’t stand up and walk over to see. That would’ve been too undignified. Instead she willed us closer, and the grass beneath our feet picked us up and carried us over like riding an escalator. We stopped right in front of the throne. Now that we were close, I realized that despite her seemingly perfect proportions, the queen was even taller than her Fey knights.
Sonya flinched when the queen reached out to touch the stone with one perfect hand. “Do not be afraid, child. Removing it will not hurt.” And then the queen plucked the stone right out.
Sonya stared in disbelief at her unmarred skin. It was like it had never even been there.
“A curious thing.” The queen looked at the Ward for a long time, as if pondering its very existence. “Such great and terrible possibilities. Anathema to the Old Ones. Poison to the deconstructive nature of Disorder. Were I to try and use this, it would split the very world in two.”
“They really should put a warning sticker on it,” I said.
“Humans are such odd creatures. Simultaneously feeble yet mighty. With this device, you can drive the usurpers from my kingdom so that I may return.”
Stricken had left out the part where she was a queen in exile.
With that revelation, I looked around the throne room again with fresh eyes. This wasn’t her regular court in all its glory. These were the refugees. These were the survivors who’d escaped.
“That’s the plan,” Stricken said.
“Very well.” The queen held the Ward out. Stricken reached for it, but she extended her hand toward me instead. “This one shall bear the weapon from here on.”
“Why me?”
“It is not my decision. That choice was made for both of us long before you were born. You have already been bound to do this deed by others. The weight of destiny is heavy upon you, God Slayer. The question is, will you be strong enough to earn that title a second time?”
It had been prophesied that I would die saving the world. Was this next mission going to be it?
Even if it was, that didn’t change what needed to be done.
I took the Ward from her. “I guess we’ll see.”
She leaned back on the throne. “Humans are normally beneath our notice, but those of sufficient calling or bloodline will be honored as our equals for now. Our enemy has done this as well, gathering to them humans living and dead to aid their cause. It pleases me to do the same.”
That had to explain how Lord Machado had come back . . . but why? Those things laughed at the boundaries between life and death, so it was in their power to do so, but at the end he had discovered that they had used and betrayed him, so why would they bring him back to serve them now? Except I didn’t dare interrupt and ask because the queen seemed ready to announce her decision.
“There are great and terrible events afoot in my kingdom, the repercussions of which can be felt in your world. Thus I shall allow this quest.”
“Thank you, your majesty.” Stricken bowed. Franks just grunted in acknowledgement. Sonya was still too relieved at getting a magical time bomb pulled out of her that I don’t think the idea that we were about to embark on an insane mission into an interdimensional warzone had sunk in for her yet.
“I decree that any who bears the mantle of a factions’ Chosen,” the queen nodded toward me and Franks, “or who is of a sufficiently notable bloodline,” she gestured at Sonya, “will be allowed free passage through my lands. The deal is struck.”
“We shall abide by these terms,” Stricken announced loud enough for the entire court to hear. Then he suddenly turned his back on the queen and started walking away. “Let’s get to it then. I’ve got an expedition to put together.”
The queen laughed at his hubris. The monsters of the court decided that if she was laughing it must be funny, so they all laughed too.
“You get ahead of yourself, Stricken. I granted permission to these because they are without guile. You are but a pathetic man, cursed for drawing the ire of mighty beings. No faction has chosen the likes of you to represent them. Did you really think that I would allow the likes of you into the sainted Hall of the Sun, to rifle through my treasures and secrets unobserved?”
Except rather than be insulted by the laughter of the Fey, Stricken turned back and gave her a malicious, knowing grin. “You’re right. I’m not chosen by anybody. I forge my own destiny. Yet by your own decree—which once given can’t easily be taken back—I’ll just have to get by off my notable bloodline.”
The Fey were notoriously tricky, but the queen stopped laughing, knowing that she had been outmaneuvered somehow. “What notable bloodline is that?”
“I already declared it and you agreed it was sufficient . . . The greatest monster hunting family to ever live.”
That title clearly belonged to the Shacklefords, and for just a second I was tempted to scoff at him like the Fey were, but this was Stricken we were talking about. Stricken, who never gave his real name, because in these circles, real names held power. I thought of the many family paintings hanging on the wall of the Shackleford estate, and how not even Julie knew them all, especially the branches who’d wandered away from the family business.
Oh, hell. Was I related to this asshole by marriage?
“I was born Alexander Shackleford, son of Leroy, a direct descendant of Bubba Shackleford himself. I guess that makes me royalty too.” The grove fell dead silent as Stricken walked away. “See you on the other side.”
The four of us made it out of the grove and back into the real world. When we passed the ancient statues, the Fey court in exile disappeared, once again hidden from the eyes of mankind. We were in an unfamiliar country, surrounded by enemies led by my nemesis who had somehow returned from the dead. We were all hurting. Franks was missing parts. Help was far away.
Stricken just looked toward the sunrise, smiled and said, “I’ve always wanted to go on a quest.”