Chapter 80: Stakeout
“I have to admit,” I whispered to Drin, “this is boring.”
“Yep,” she replied with the resigned tone of someone far too used to this kind of stakeout.
The two of us—four if you counted Tren and Salvador nearby, and five if you counted Fira somewhere—were lying along the top edge of a barn roof, covered in hay that I really, really wished was drier. I’d try to dry it out with magic, but I didn’t want to risk a fire. The two of us stayed damp and uncomfortable in the darkness.
The family of the young man, Erik was his name, had been some help when we’d arrived in the evening. Said he’d been troubled of late, stayed out at odd hours, and ran away several times. A search of the room he shared with his two younger siblings didn’t reveal much of anything. A look around the property, however, revealed big paw prints and some scars in the dirt where there’d been a struggle the winter rain hadn’t yet washed away.
Speaking of wash, at least it wasn’t raining. We’d be up here all night regardless, and I’d take damp over soaked any day. Ideally, we’d sleep and watch alternately, but the farm was big and the other teams were set up at other farms. The reason for the all-hands-on-watch approach was that in the time since the contract was issued and we’d gotten here, two people had died and another three had been taken. The contract had been accepted swiftly, so the deaths had happened within the past four days. This meant, suddenly, that I was very much a part of the contract instead of observing.
The problem with animal attacks is that there isn’t a schedule to them, so Fira insisted we all stay up to watch or look the fool if something happened while we were sleeping. I didn’t disagree. We didn’t have anyone good enough to track the culprits through fields, and there was no point trying to search for the boy in the dark.
Well no point for people who can’t see in the dark, but I can’t reveal that yet. If I had some way to track by scent or aura or something, I probably would have tried to sneak away. What if Erik dies tonight and I could have done something? I need to be able to stop hiding so I can do more—this isn’t healthy.
At least I didn’t have to put up with Tren’s incessant questioning about my magic. To no one’s surprise, he was also a fire mage, and so took an immense interest in what I knew. The problem was, Tren knew more than me and I couldn’t very well let him know that. I’d asked Firalex about their own magic, to distract, but also out of curiosity, and they’d told me they had a water affinity. I’d bet wherever they’re staked out is nice and dry, I thought ruefully. Together, the three of us were the only magic-capable people out here.
I hope Seyari and the others are alright and safe.
I was both relieved and regretful that I wasn’t tired. Relieved that I could keep my focus if I prevented my mind from wandering, but regretful that my wakefulness kept my perception of time static. Below me, a few goats were scattered about the grass and mud field, sleeping. A chicken coop sat under me to one side, presumably also full of sleeping occupants. The goats had been pulled into the small barn at night since the last attack, but had been let out for tonight and seemed all too eager to roam into late evening while Drin and I kept watch from the rooftop.
“Are your legs falling asleep too?” Drin asked softly.
“Not really,” I replied honestly, “but I’m not exactly comfortable with all this damp hay.”
“Yeah, that’s—hey, look!” Drin didn’t point. In fact, she went totally still.
I looked out farther afield, past the fence and toward the tree line. I felt the semi-familiar shape of my spear lying alongside me, head buried under hay. Out in the far field, I could see a dark shape stalking toward the sleeping goats.
My vision was sharp, and the even in the darkness of an overcast night I could make out a lupine shape. I wasn’t an expert, but it looked like a large wolf. I tried my aura sight, but I couldn’t see anything at this range. The creature looked a lot more normal than the burned wolves back in Harriston, but it was big.
I glanced apologetically at the lone goat sleeping near the edge of the field. Since people had not only been killed, but been taken, we were tasked with tracking whatever showed up back to where it laired. A goat’s life for a family’s closure.
I’d felt their anger earlier in the day; fresh and raw. I’d also felt the anger of the other company members. There was still something about Firalex that put me on edge, but I couldn’t deny they cared.
The goat didn’t see the wolf coming. I watched with aura sight hoping for a glimpse. I caught something faint in the wolf, but had no time to really analyze it as the immense canine loped off back toward the trees with a screaming goat in its jaws.
It took it alive. That’s not normal, and neither is the presence of magic. I reached over and gripped my spear. An owl’s hoot came from nearby and was answered from far away. Three dark shapes began moving swiftly in the direction the wolf had gone. Salvador, Tren and Fira.
I rolled and climbed off the rooftop, helping Drin down after me. Her heavy armor, well-padded, was loud to my ears, but far quieter than I imagined it would have been. With a nod, we took off after the others and the wolf. The goat’s screaming faded away into the trees, but I could still hear it.
I don’t know how I’ll justify my hearing, but I’m not letting this wolf get away.
***
As it turned out, we hardly had need of my hearing. Between the blood and the damage caused by carrying a struggling animal, the wolf had left a trail so obvious that I could almost follow it. We entered the forest, just the five of us. For the sake of speed and safety, we stuck to together and did not fan out.
Drin retrieved a hooded lantern from her hip and handed it to me. I lit it with my magic and did my best to keep the beam of light steady on the path ahead.
The forest here was yet again different from what I was used to. Skeletal broadleaf trees rose above us, a carpet of decaying leaves sponged underfoot, and patches of dense undergrowth were obstacles both we and our quarry skirted around. The previously flat ground sloped downward as we approached the river ahead. For a moment, I felt like a character in a novel, hunting some monstrous beast. The reality of the situation and the recent deaths put a damper on any fantastical musings and I moved tight with the others, holding my spear at the ready.
As we neared the river, the ground became rockier and more uneven. The goat’s screaming had stopped a while back, so while I had no issues seeing in the dark forest, I had just as little idea where to go as anyone else.
“The trail ends at the river” was the verdict Salvador, Drin, and Fira arrived at. Fira’s order was to search along the bank, to look for any signs of the trail resuming and, failing that, to look for any other clues. We stayed close, checking along the bank, and decided on north after evidence that Salvador found. The river, hardly more than a creek, was slightly swollen from the recent rains and had a narrow, rocky bank.
I didn’t want to risk the glow of my aura sight, but I only partially tried to hide how I was looking beyond the lantern’s light. Ahead, I could see rapids, flanked by steep rock hillsides. As we drew closer, I caught a harsh voice on the wind.
“Up ahead,” I whispered when the voice sounded again, “I hear something—or someone.”
I heard light footsteps as Fira moved closer to me. “Are you certain?” they whispered.
The voice sounded again. I couldn’t tell what, if anything, was being said. “Yeah, I am,” I replied. “Don’t you hear it?”
Fira shook their head. “No. Where do you think it’s coming from?”
I pointed at the area of rapids ahead. “It’s echoing off the rocks up there I think.”
Fira closed their eyes for a moment. “Stay here. I’ll go on ahead and if I find anything I’ll come back and we’ll either go in or get the others. I won’t be farther than the rocks up there.” They gestured ahead to a spot near the edge of our lantern’s light. “If anything happens: Drin, Tren, you know the signal.”
“Yesser,” Both of them whispered a curt reply.
“Good.” Fira nodded and was off, moving low and silent ahead of us. They stayed close to the water, and I could barely see the subtle way they used magic to damp the sound of their passing.
I watched Fira move up to the rocks where they’d indicated, then stop and listen. I heard the voice another time, and this time there was a cadence to it.
Fira must have heard it to, because they hurried back. “There’s a voice ahead alright. Sounds like chanting or something, so be on guard.”
“Should we signal—” a human scream tore through the night, stopping what I was about to say dead. Could that be the farmers’ kid, Erik? Were we already too late?
“Shit,” Fira cursed, “we need to go—now. The others will have heard the scream.”
I nodded, and the four of us dashed ahead off in the direction of the scream and the chanting voice, any pretense of stealth forgotten. I widened the aperture on the lantern and kept it as steady as I could.
***
We followed the chanting, clearly a single voice, into a cave above the rapids. When we reached the entrance, another scream, primal and horrifying, came from within. For a moment, the chanting was drowned out, and when it returned it was with a fervor that set my companions visibly on edge. In my case, it stoked my fury.
We hadn’t taken two steps into the damp rocky hole when twin blurs rushed around the corner ahead, a flickering light from within playing across their black, shaggy coats. In a moment, the two immense wolves were on us.
Reflexively, I took a forward position next to Drin and her shield and held my spear up. The wolves reached us, and I thrust forward, only for the beast to twist nimbly out of the way.
No you don’t!
Faster than I should have, I whirled and caught the beast’s shoulder with the flat of the blade. It tumbled off course, and rolled to its feet. Next to me, Drin held the other beast back with her shield. Her strength was something else for a human, and while she slid back on the slick floor under the crushing weight of all the claws and fur, she held firm, stabbing forward with her sword. Her thrust stuck the massive wolf in its shoulder, and it fell back with a pained growl.
An arrow from Salvador struck the one I’d sent flying back and it yipped. Almost at the same time, a splash of fire impacted the same wolf, singing fur.
“Focus on downing one!” Fira shouted.
“I’ll hold the other one off!” Drin grunted.
The wolves fought like cornered animals, which they likely were. Fira called shots and kept us together. Whenever one of the wolves would attack, a jet of boiling water from Fira would hit a limb, or puddle the ground and slip it up. It wasn’t long before my spear found home in the skull of the first one, singed and stuck with multiple arrows.
I didn’t bother to hide my superhuman strength and speed; I didn’t care if they noticed. The only reason I didn’t shift out of my human form then and there was a well-founded worry that the seconds saved would be lost explaining myself.
The wolf on my spear wheezed horribly around the metal stuck in its throat before I pushed out and through, ending its life. The other one was killed by Tren’s fire, succumbing to its burns and charred limbs.
“Zarenna!” Fira shouted. “Use your magic next time—Drin and I can hold them off.”
“Right!” I replied, cursing myself. I’d been so caught up in protecting Salvador, I hadn’t thought to use my magic. Even if my aura sight had picked up something odd inside them earlier, these weren’t the burned wolves near Harriston. My magic would have been disastrously effective, though probably not much faster.
A third scream, guttural and sharply cut off, ended any further conversation. Fira didn’t even have to say anything; we all took formation behind Drin and ran around the corner to the inner chamber of the damp cave.
As Drin turned the corner, the chanting reached its crescendo, and with a scream of a word that tingled my ears, magic washed over us. The feeling was comfortable, a bit like a nice breeze. My companions, however, stumbled, and a feeling of dreadful knowing washed over me.
Demonic-aspected mana.
The room we entered looked like a scene from the type of play the Church would try to outlaw. Human and animal bodies littered the room, exsanguinated into a massive ritual circle on the floor, at the ring of which flickered crimson flames.
Next to the circle, on his knees, eyes wide open and face split into a manic smile that looked almost painfully wide, was a person we’d gotten an exhaustive description of earlier this same day: the missing teenage farmers’ son Erik. In the center of the circle, a shimmering oval that my gaze wanted to slide over was closing behind a very demonic-looking figure with milky-pale skin and unnaturally long limbs.
Fuck.