The strange side of midn.., p.14
The Strange Side of Midnight, page 14
“I spotted bones up ahead, lots of them.”
“All aboard! This rat is leaving the station.”
Griselda climbed onto Crowe’s back.
To keep her eye on the Termitenators, Ellie fluttered backward when Crowe moved off with her dogs keeping pace.
Crowe picked a path through the scattered bones and tried not to dwell on the deep grooves on each that could have only been made by large teeth and claws.
When the entrance grew distant, and the Termitenators showed no signs of following, Ellie returned to her position straddling Crowe’s neck and swapped the scattergun for her bow and arrow.
To light their route deeper underground, Griselda pulled a lighted lantern from her bag and hooked it over the tip of her staff.
Chapter 20
Phantoms
IMPRESSED BY THE STEALTHY movements of Hemlock’s Phantoms skulking through the forest without making a sound on the leafy carpet, Deadeye raised a fist to halt them when the Sinister house came into view. He scanned the grounds and windows for signs of anyone at home. All seemed quiet. After peering into the forest for the ghoul he feared was close by, he turned to give the Phantoms his instructions. He sighed when he saw no sign of them. “Show yourselves,” he ordered in a firm but hushed voice.
The six assassins creepily oozed from the surrounding darkness and encircled him. Made nervous by their too-close proximity, he stepped back and bumped into one before pushing past. “Right, here’s what we’re going to do.” He found it quite disconcerting being stared at by eyes concealed behind dark gauze covering the eye slits in their black balaclavas; Phantoms was a well-deserved description. “We enter the house, do a room-by-room search, and kill any Sinisters we find. I also suggest we cut off their heads to show to the king to prove the successful outcome of our mission, thus reaping the rewards of his appreciation.”
Receiving no indication, not even a nod, from the Phantoms he knew despised him, he turned back to the house and pointed out the broken upstairs window. “That’s how we gained entry before; however, I suggest we seek an alternative entry point in case traps have been laid. A downstairs window should suffice.”
Deadeye turned to ensure the Phantoms understood and again found them absent. He sighed. “Show yourselves.”
When, after a few moments they had failed to do so, he refocused on the house and spied two entering through the front door, and the others spread out climbing the sheer front walls of the house, jimmying open windows and slipping inside. Eager to partake in the demise of any Sinister that would curry huge favor with the king, he hurried to the house.
Though reluctant to admit it, the Phantoms had carried out their task with speed and thoroughness. When Deadeye entered the house through the front door, they were gathered in the hallway shaking their heads at each other.
“I assume your head shaking indicates the Sinisters aren’t at home.” Deadeye was surprised when one of the Phantoms answered with a nod. Reluctant to take his eyes off them in case they vanished into the shadows again, he issued his next orders. “We’ll head for Hagstown to check out the human defenses. While we’re there, as none of you know what they look like, I’ll keep a lookout for any Sinisters and kill them if possible. If not, I will follow them and signal for your assistance with a call from a Fanged Dervil.” He gazed at each faceless Phantom in turn. “Understood?”
Each faceless Phantom nodded, reluctantly it seemed to Deadeye.
Without making a sound or waiting for him, the Phantoms exited the house. They had vanished into the night by the time Deadeye stepped outside. He headed for Hagstown.
Sitting on top of the water tower with his head continually turning to gaze over the all-but-deserted streets of Hagstown below—most of its unsuspecting residents had retired to their warm beds for the night—Ghoul focused on the only signs of life, an inn spilling yellow light onto the dimly lit street. It briefly watched the human shapes within moving past the windows before turning its head to follow a van driving along the perimeter road. When it pulled to a halt at the top of the railway embankment, three men climbed out. After collecting equipment from the rear of the vehicle, they disappeared down the hill. The glow of electric light appeared a few moments later. Dismissing the activity as unimportant, Ghoul continued its vigil.
When a short while later, it sensed the approach of something menacing that tuned its attention toward the edge of town. At first, it saw nothing out of the ordinary, but as it peered into the shadowy areas, it picked out dark things moving stealthily. The faeries had arrived. Believing correctly that the black-clad faeries were assassins on a murderous mission, Ghoul jumped to the ground and went to intercept them.
Splitting up when they reached Hagstown’s outskirts, the six faerie assassins set off through the streets, around the perimeter, and over rooftops to discover what defenses the humans had in place to thwart the soon-to-arrive faerie invasion force.
The faerie assassin known as Phantom 3—Hemlock had decided that stripping them of their birth names and shedding all contact with their past lives, which included their friends and families, would help hone them into better killers without all the emotional baggage to distract them—climbed the side of a building and deftly moved along the rooftops. When he had infiltrated halfway into the village without meeting any obstacles, he was surprised by the humans’ lack of defenses. It seemed that with the passage of time, they had forgotten how dangerous the threat living nearby could be. When he jumped across a gap between two houses, he was snatched from the air. With a hand gripping him around the waist, Phantom 3’s surprised stare focused on the ghoul’s face almost close enough to headbutt. Years of training held at bay any fear he might have felt and darted his hand to one of the two swords strapped to his back. With a blur of motion, the weapon was slid from its scabbard and the point thrust between the ghoul’s eyes with enough force to sink into the ghoul’s head up to the hilt.
Surprised by the assassin’s swiftness, Ghoul went boss-eyed when he looked at the protruding hilt. Being a creature born of magic, which was the only thing that could kill it, the blade penetrating its head was little more than a slight discomfort. He pulled it free and slung it over the rooftops. A second discomfort came from the second sword pushed through its chest. When it reached a hand behind its back and touched the blade sticking out, an idea formed. Aware he couldn’t leave any faerie bodies behind for the townsfolk to discover, it would be an ideal place to store the assassin squirming to be free of his grip until he could dispose of it somewhere it would never be found. Flipping the assassin over his head, it impaled him on his own sword. Phantom 3 uttered a painful grunt and fell limp. After shaking his shoulders to check the corpse wouldn’t slip free, Ghoul went to look for the assassin’s murderous friends.
With no way of telling if Hemlock’s invisible killers were nearby or already off checking the town’s defenses, Deadeye halted on the hill overlooking the cluster of human dwellings. He roamed his gaze along its empty streets and at the three humans working by the train tracks. Spying no sign of the six Phantoms, which didn’t surprise him, he peered into the shadows around him. “If you are there, reveal yourselves?” he whispered. When they didn’t materialize, he headed below.
Also surprised by the lack of any human defenses against their kind, Deadeye strolled through the deserted streets and gazed at the windows curtained against the outside world while those within were deep in slumber. Footsteps drifting from a side street, alerted him to someone’s approach. A peek around the corner revealed a human walking his dog. Deadeye flipped open the lid of a black plastic trash bin and climbed inside. Though he could kill the old man and his pet easily, the foul deed would alert the townsfolk to their menacing activity and put them on their guard.
Harry Smythe rounded the corner. When his dog squatted to do its business on the thin strip of grass dotted with trees lining the edge of the path, he lit a cigarette and patiently waited for Samson to finish. After the dog had scratched ineffectively at the grass to cover its lopsided pyramid of steaming spoils, Harry pulled a plastic bag from his pocket and slipping a hand inside, crouched and picked up the sizable pile; its foul stench assaulting his nostrils before he twisted the top shut, temporarily sealing the smell inside. Crossing to the row of trash bins his master headed for, Samson sniffed one of them and jumped up, his tail wagging excitedly. Resting his front paws on the top, he growled.
“Leave the rats alone, Samson,” ordered Harry, yanking the dog away as he dropped the disgusting parcel inside. Tugging away the dog that pulled on his lead to head back to whatever he found of interest in the bin, Harry headed home along the street.
Deadeye raised the bin lid slightly and peered out. When he saw the man and his dog disappear into a side street, he climbed out. Glad to be free of the stinking bin made stinkier by the smelly object the human had dropped on him, he continued his walk through the town.
To ensure his mission was a success and to ingratiate himself into favor with his ill-tempered king, he needed to track down the surviving Sinisters. Deadeye’s gaze roamed over the humans’ cars parked bumper-to-bumper along the streets in the hope he’d recognize the one he had seen parked outside the Sinister house on his first visit, which was absent when he and the Phantoms had visited a short while ago.
As the king would look favorably on whoever killed the Sinisters, his original thoughts had pictured him ending their lives personally, but now he began to rethink the plan. If he could capture the remaining Sinisters alive and present them to the king for him to end their lives by his own hand, he would be sure to bestow generous rewards upon that faerie responsible, him. Pleased with his new strategy, Deadeye headed for the building where some of the humans had assembled within.
After Arabella had explained the strange events at Crowe’s house the previous night, Sebastian sat back in his seat and glanced around at the other patrons in the Witch’s Gibbet Inn while he supped his ale. Wiping the froth from his mouth with the back of his hand, he gazed at his daughter with an excited glint in his eye. “I knew it. Faeries are real and are living in Hag’s Hollow Forest.”
“Yes, but Father, in case you didn’t grasp the danger they pose from what I just told you, the faeries aren’t of the good variety. They would have killed Crowe and me if that ghoul thing hadn’t turned up to save us.”
“Quite so, quite so, but evil or not, don’t you see what this means? Creatures of lore and legend are real and living barely a stone’s throw from where we sit.” He leaned forward again. “If I could prove their existence, I’d be famous. A photograph is no good though—too easily faked. We’ll have to capture one, alive if possible. You said they aren’t very big, so they should be easy enough to trap.”
“Father, listen to yourself. Didn’t you hear me? The faeries are dangerous and seem to hate humans enough to want to kill them. You try and catch one, and you’ll likely be the one killed. They may be small, but they are many. You wouldn’t stand a chance.”
“Mere details to be overcome, my dear. Anyway, if they are as dangerous as you believe, it would be advantageous to capture one to study. We need to learn their weaknesses and thus protect ourselves against them. Do you really think if I stood up now and warned everyone here there’s a likelihood we are about to be attacked by faeries; they would believe me? Of course they wouldn’t. They would laugh and label me crazy. However, if I could show them a live one, indisputable proof they exist, then they’d have no choice other than to believe they are real and would be more amenable to enact any plan we can come up with to protect ourselves and the town against them.”
Arabella sighed and gazed around at the people enjoying their night out, unaware of the nearby threat that would shortly—if Crowe’s plan failed—threaten them, their families and their friends’ existence. She turned back to her father. “Putting it like that, then I can see the sense of capturing one, but how would we even go about such a thing? I know they live in the forest, but Crowe didn’t tell me where and it’s too vast to search.”
“I agree, that’s why we’ll set a trap for them. Don’t worry my dear, I have it all worked out. It’s a cunning plan that can’t possibly fail.”
Arabella wasn’t so confident, but if they were going save lives, what other choice did they have. “Okay, I suppose you’d better tell me.”
Jumping up to the windowsill, Deadeye peered inside the Witch’s Gibbet Inn and cast his gaze over the humans. He couldn’t believe his luck when he spied the woman he had encountered in the Sinister house. He had found her. Spying no sign of the male Sinister, he moved away from the window while he deliberated his next move. Though he would have preferred to capture the woman on his own, his size compared to hers was against him. The Phantoms help would be required to ensure the kidnapping was a success. Another foul-up would likely see him killed at the king’s angry request.
Unwilling to stray too far away from the inn lest the Sinister woman slipped away, Deadeye flew up to the roof. Cupping his hands to his mouth, he mimicked the shrill call of a Fanged Dervil; a small rodent creature of the Faerie Realm that sported two elongated teeth. The Phantoms would recognize the signal and, if they adhered to his instruction, come to his assistance.
Just when he thought they weren’t coming, they appeared out of the darkness around him. Noticing one was missing, he decided five would be sufficient for the task. He informed them of his plan.
Ghoul looked in the direction the strange call had come from. It climbed the side of the nearby furniture store and crossed to the far side of the flat roof with the dead Phantom flopping wildly on its back like a puppet cut from its strings. Concealed behind a small structure with a single door, it gazed along the street and stared at the faeries assembled on the roof of a building with light shining from its windows. Certain their purpose for gathering there bode ill against the humans within, Ghoul jumped down. Planning to attack them from behind, it made its way around the buildings.
Sebastian held the inn door open for his daughter and followed her out onto the street. Arabella tugged her coat collar tighter to ward off the chill air and slipped a hand through her father’s arm, and they headed home. They had preparations to make if they were going to save the town, and that included seeking the assistance of Crowe. They turned down a side street, little more than an alley between two shops, and halted with startled gasps when two small black-clothed figures emerged from the shadows in front of them.
Frightened and fascinated by their sudden appearance, Sebastian stared at the two small figures hovering in the air. “Faeries,” he exclaimed excitedly.
“The bad kind, remember.” Arabella tugged her father away and turned him around to flee from the threat, but three more faeries hovering in the alley behind them blocked their retreat. Movement on her left directed her gaze upon another faerie she recognized from the house, the one-eyed faerie who had shot an arrow at her. Without the protection circle, this time the missile it aimed at her chest wouldn’t fail to find its target.
“What do you want?” she demanded.
The one-eyed faerie said something too soft and intelligible for her to understand. A dull thwack rang out. Her father collapsed unconscious to the ground. Arabella glanced at the cudgel-wielding faerie responsible and swung her handbag at it, which it easily dodged. The others sprung upon her. While some tied her hands behind her back, another wrapped a gag over her mouth. She ceased her struggles when she was lifted into the air by the five ninja-like faeries. Glancing down at the alley rapidly receding, she forced herself to remain still lest she slipped from their grasp and be dashed on the ground, a heap of broken bones and blood.
Ghoul ran up the far slope of the inn roof and dived with an arm outstretched to snatch the woman from the faeries’ grasp. Its fingers swiped past a foot too short. Its landing on the roof smashed slates. It grabbed the gutter when it slid over the edge and swung back onto the roof. Its sprint after the faeries cracked more slates and dislodged others, sending them sliding down the roof to smash on the street below.
Glancing back at the ghoul, Deadeye noticed the missing Phantom stuck limply to its back. He aimed his bow at the menace and fired off three arrows in quick succession. Though all three found a target in the ghoul’s chest, the creature showed no sign they caused it any pain. Realizing his arrows wouldn’t stop it, he flew to the Phantom holding the woman’s left leg, tapped the assassin’s shoulder to get his attention and pointed back at the ghoul in pursuit. Unfazed by the creature’s great size in contrast to his own, Phantom 5 thrust Arabella’s foot into Deadeye’s hands and flew off to intercept it.
Though certain the Phantom would be killed, Deadeye hoped the skirmish would delay the ghoul long enough for them to make their escape. If they could reach the portal and return to the Faerie Realm, they’d be safe.
As the black-clad faerie broke away from the pack and headed for it, Ghoul followed its approach. When it drew two swords from its back and swished them menacingly, Ghoul snatched up a slate from the roof and threw it Frisbee-style.
With no time to avoid the spinning missile, Phantom 5 lashed at it with the swords, chopping it into small harmless pieces. The smile hidden beneath his hood disappeared when he noticed another slate whizzing through the air too close to defend against. It sliced through his neck and parted his head from his body with his shocked expression frozen on his face.
Ghoul grabbed the falling body and kicked at the head rolling down the slope of the roof. Pulling the three arrows from its chest, it dropped two of them and pressing the limp, headless corpse against its chest, pinned it in place with the other.
The head sailed through the air, clipped the side of Deadeye’s head and landed on Arabella, who raised her head to see what had just arrived. The scream that sprung to her lips was stifled by the gag. She gazed between the one-eyed faerie and the ninja-type one holding her ankles and spied the ghoul that had saved them before running along the rooftops in pursuit. Feeling hope from its presence, she watched one-eye knock the head off.
