Philodox Page 6

  Traveling at Damon's speed meant we moved very quickly. We had only been running for a few minutes, but we were already miles outside of the city. We were out in the middle of nowhere. We hadn't seen any houses anywhere, and there were no longer any roads where we were running. I was sure that if I could smell anything other than the stench of the monster chasing us, I would have been able to tell you with certainty that there was nothing else out there besides a chipmunk or a squirrel, or maybe a small rabbit. This is why I was so shocked to hear what sounded like a rhythmic drumming coming from up ahead, and probably why Damon stopped in his tracks so suddenly that he nearly dropped me.

  The monster was still hot on our trail, though, so we didn't have time to stand around and discuss our options. We moved forward cautiously, and found ourselves on the edge of a large clearing. There was a small pond near the back, the water barely visible in the cloud filled sky. In the center of the clearing were five people, apparently in the middle of some sort of strange ritual involving chanting, dancing and drums. The three men in the back were staying in one place, but they were lifting their legs in a marching pattern, first the left, then the right. They were also banging those huge drums you see in marching bands, and were really just missing the typical band uniform with matching giant hat. They made a strong beat, though, and loud. The thumping reverberated through the clearing, a deep, throbbing pulse that made the leaves on the trees vibrate, and my whole body shake with it.

  The fourth person was a woman, and she had a tambourine. She was also clearly having more fun than anyone else in that clearing, hopping and spinning around, occasionally banging her tambourine against her legs. She wore well worn denim jeans with a red flannel long sleeved shirt and no shoes, with a small backpack on her shoulders. Her chestnut hair was pulled into twin braids, one on either side of her face, tied together with matching red ribbon. The second we stepped into the clearing, she stopped mid twirl and offered a quick wave. I liked her immediately.

  The fifth and final person in the clearing was probably the most interesting. He was dressed in a white tunic and plain white cotton pants. He wore many necklaces of all different shapes and sizes. His long, gray hair was tied back in a ponytail. It was his voice that was doing the chanting, a clear, musical chanting in a language I didn't recognize that was somehow loud enough to be heard over the drums. He brandished a pair of maracas like they were weapons, sharp, sudden gestures that swept through the air as if he were trying to cut down the breeze. He also looked right at us as we entered the clearing, his blue eyes catching my gaze and holding it until Damon set me down, and then he switched his attention to him.

  I opened my mouth to apologize for interrupting, but he stopped me with a head shake and beckoned us over. I looked at Damon and he just shrugged. The beast was still behind us and moving in quickly – the stench was nearly overwhelming – and while I didn't know what was going on in this clearing or whether or not I could trust these strangers, I knew for certain that I didn't want to fight the monster behind us, so I headed over. The tambourine girl twirled over to us and reached her hand out to me. I took it, then grabbed Damon's arm and dragged him along as the girl led me to the back of the clearing, behind the drummers.

  Every time I tried to warn her about the big, bad monster that was chasing us, she held her finger over her lips and shook her head. After the third time, I just stopped trying to warn her, and started figuring out an escape plan for Damon and me. Damon stood behind me, gazing around and up at the trees, perhaps looking for a hiding place. We didn't have a whole lot of time, though, because it was only a moment or two before the creature entered the clearing. It paused for just a moment, seeming to gaze at each person with its flaming red eyes for just a second until its eyes met mine. Then it erupted with an enormous roar and started to charge in my direction.

  It didn't get far. The chanting increased in intensity, and the man with the maracas took two giant steps toward the beast. The monster stopped in its tracks and focused on the man. They stared at each other, the monster frozen and the man continuing to take steps toward it, moving more slowly the closer to the creature he came, as if each step was harder than the last.

  It was dark in that clearing, and with the beast's arrival, it seemed to get darker. However, the closer the man moved toward the monster, the brighter the clearing seemed to become. The drums started beating faster and faster, and the clouds covering the moon slowly dispersed, brightening everything even further. The man with the maracas seemed to glow with a shimmering, moonlit aura, pushing more and more of the darkness away. The creature screamed, a defiant burst of sound that made the earth tremble beneath us, but the man didn't flinch. Closer and closer he drew to the beast, still slinging those maracas like weapons, the chanting taking a more angry tone, growing ever louder. Finally, the man was close enough to touch the beast, a tiny figure standing next to the behemoth. Touch the beast he did, without preamble, slamming first one maraca into one of its legs, and then the other, over and over, matching the beat of the drums behind him. The beast screamed with each hit, until finally it let out one last terrible screech, then disappeared into thin air. Just, poof! Like it had never been there in the first place. I stared at the spot it had stood, but there was no trace of it anywhere. The drum beats began to slow, until finally they stopped, and the clearing was left in sudden silence.

  Never one to worry about being the first to break a silence, I'm sure it was no surprise to anyone when I spoke up. “Okay,” I started. “Someone want to tell me what the hell that was all about?”

  The older man handed one of the three drummers his maracas and the four of them began to speak quietly. I wasn't trying to eavesdrop, but they weren't doing anything to keep their voices down, and I couldn't really help it if I could hear their every word, even if those words didn't make a whole lot of sense. There were instructions to clean the area and make sure nothing lingered, with some stress on the word nothing. Then he told them to head on back, and he would return shortly. The woman with the braided pigtails handed one of the drummers her tambourine without a word, then followed the older man, who was making his way over to where Damon and I were standing.

  “Delaney Jones,” he said, offering me his hand to shake. His voice was smooth and friendly. I immediately felt at ease in his presence. “It is an honor to finally meet the daughter of our beloved Heather.”

  I started to reach for his hand, but froze when he mentioned my mother. “You...you knew my mom?”

  He smiled at me, and took my outstretched hand in both of his, squeezing gently before releasing it. “Your mother was an amazing woman. She was a true warrior and a hero, and I knew her very well. She talked about you more than anything else, and because of that, I feel like I know you already, too.”

  “You keep speaking of her in the past tense. Does that mean you know for sure that she...isn't with us anymore?” My hand subconsciously grabbed the necklace she had given me and it felt like my heart stopped beating. My mother had been gone for years, but I had always had a tiny hope in the back of my mind that she would return someday, with a damn good excuse for abandoning us.

  “I'm afraid your mother left this world a few years ago, my dear. She spent her life trying to protect you for as long as she could, but the beast won, in the end.” He stepped right into my personal bubble and cupped my face in his hands, something I had never let a stranger get away with before. There was just something about him, though, that reminded me of a kindly grandfather, so I allowed it. “You look just like her, you know. She was always so proud of you.” He pulled me into a hug, and there may or may not have been a few tears as he held me until I stopped shaking. When I started to pull away, he let me go, and reached behind him to pick up a long bundle wrapped in cloth that had gone previously unnoticed. “She left this with me, and asked me to give it to you when you were ready.” He carefully unwrapped the bundle, revealing an enormous glaive. The pole itself was plain and unadorned. A tiny wolf figurine dangled off the edge. The other end was the blade, and while the pole might have been plain, the blade itself was engraved with all sorts of words and symbols, and appeared to be made of pure silver. It seemed to light up the clearing with a faint glow. He handed it to me, and I took it, my hands trembling slightly. When I stood it up vertically, it was almost two feet taller than I was, yet it was very light in my hands, and I was able to wield it with ease.

  Immediately upon touching the glaive, my entire spirit felt at peace. It was as if every worry and concern I had gathered and held on to my entire life was just draining away. I felt like someone had poked a hole in my worry balloon. It was an amazing feeling.

  “It is what we call a spirit weapon,” the man explained. “Your mother's spirit resides inside. Now you'll have her with you, always watching and protecting.”

  “I...this...” For the first time I could remember, I did not have a smart ass comment. I wasn't sure if he meant my mom's spirit was in the weapon literally, or if it was just one of those things that people say when they're trying to make you feel better, but either way, I was definitely feeling better. “Thank you.”

  He smiled that same reassuring smile and waved away my thanks. “My name is Rast, and this is Farrah.”

  He pointed at the other girl, who, until now, I'd completely forgotten about. She was standing next to Rast with her hands held behind her back, lifting herself up on her tiptoes and then dropping back down. She was grinning at me. I couldn't help but smile back at her.

  “I'm Delaney, and that's Damon.” I told her.

  “We need to get you to a safe place, before the Black Walker returns,” she said.

  “Yes,” Rast agreed. The look of confusion on my face must have prompted an explanation, because he continued. “T
he creature that has been following you is called the Black Walker. He is an angry spirit that wants desperately to kill you. The ritual we performed merely banished it back to the spirit world, but it will return, stronger and angrier, until we destroy it for good.”

  “Wait, that thing wants to kill me, specifically? Why? What did I do?”

  “It's not what you did. It's who you are. I promise to explain everything, but let's travel while I do, shall we?” He gestured to Farrah. “If you will do the honors?”

  Farrah clapped her hands together with excitement. “Well, this is just going to be so much fun. I've never transported a...” she dropped her voice, whispering “vampire,” then resumed her normal tone. “...before, so this should be exciting.” She pulled her backpack off and rummaged through it, eventually pulling out a bundle of what looked like wheat, tied together with a piece of twine. “Okay, so here's how it's going to go down. You're going to have to clear your mind of everything if this is going to work.”

  “If what is going to work?” Damon was looking a little worried at the way Farrah was starting to stare at him. “What are you going to do?”

  “Oh, don't you worry, we'll take real good care of you.” She started to move toward him. “Any friend of Delaney's is a friend of mine, even if that friend happens to be a vampire.” For every step Farrah took toward Damon, Damon took a step back. Farrah had a strange glint in her eyes, and it seemed to be making Damon nervous.

  Rast moved up behind Damon and put his hands on Damon's shoulders, which startled Damon so much that he leaped about six feet straight up into the air. Once he landed, Rast put his hands on his shoulders again, completely unfazed. “Now, Damon. This is going to be difficult for you, but I think we can pull it off, if you just remain calm. I need you to close your eyes and clear your mind.”

  Damon looked at me, but I just shrugged. I didn't have any idea what was going on, either. “Where else are we going to go?” I asked, trying not to sound as desperate as I felt. “That thing...the Black Walker...seems to find us wherever we try to hide. Might as well give this a shot, right?”

  He gave me a look that suggested we would be discussing this decision further in the future, but he did nod at Rast and close his eyes.

  “Excellent,” Rast nodded at Farrah, who began advancing on Damon again. “Now, Damon, I want you to picture in your mind a clear, white box. Just that, nothing else. A clear, white box.”

  “How can a box be clear and white?” Damon asked. Farrah smacked him with the bundle of wheat, and his eyes flew open. “What the hell?”

  “Close your eyes! I have to do it this way, or it won't work!” Farrah could not hide the enjoyment she was clearly getting out of this from her voice. Damon gave her his best vampy glare, and she grinned, hitting him again with the wheat. “Clear your mind, or I get to hit you all night!”

  Rast patted Damon's shoulders. “Clear white box. Clear white box.” He repeated it over and over, his voice becoming more of a chant with each repetition. Damon closed his eyes again and after a few moments, he stopped flinching when Farrah hit him with the wheat. Rast nodded at Farrah, and she stopped hitting Damon with wheat and grabbed my hand, instead. Slowly, we made our way to the pond, Rast leading Damon by his shoulders, still chanting, “clear white box.” Damon didn't stumble a single time, even though his eyes were closed.

  When we reached the edge of the pond, Farrah, still clutching my hand, used her other hand to grab Damon's arm. She grinned at me, then whispered, “Don't be scared. I'll help you through this time, and it will be easy as pie. Just clear your mind and relax.” Then, without warning, she jumped into the pond, dragging us with her.

  It happened so quickly that I didn't even have time to be surprised. It only took a second – I closed my eyes to shield them from the water, and when I opened them, we were somewhere else. Or, we were in the same place, but it was different. We were in what looked like the same clearing, but the pond I should have been standing in was gone, and everything was gray. I expected to be soaking wet, but my clothes were completely dry. I checked my bag, then my new weapon, and there wasn't a drop of water anywhere on me. I looked at the rest of the group, and they were also not exhibiting any sign of having been pulled into a pond.

  Damon was looking just as confused as I was, but Farrah was already putting the wheat back into her backpack, then hoisting it on her shoulders, and Rast had already started moving. “We should get moving,” he called to us over his shoulder. “There are things in the spirit world that we do not want to bump into, and the Black Walker is just one of them.”

  Farrah jogged to catch up, and the two of them conferred for a moment about the best trail to follow, before determining that the men they'd sent ahead had gone to the right. Damon and I just shrugged at each other and followed.

  It was a surreal experience. It looked like we were still in the forest, but the sounds and smells were different, and everything had a grayish tint to it. It was like walking in a black and white picture. Farrah tried to explain as we walked. “It's essentially a mirror of the real world. Everything that is out there is in here, it's just a little different. Sometimes things aren't in the right spot, or sometimes they're in the right spot once, but then they move. It's a great way to travel if you know what you're doing, because you can take shortcuts and get places so much faster, but if you get lost in here, you could be lost forever. It's a terrible, dangerous, wonderful place, that's really hard to describe.”

  “But you called it the spirit world,” Damon said. “Does that mean there are spirits here?”

  Farrah nodded. “The problem is that some of the spirits are good spirits, and some of the spirits are evil spirits, and some of the spirits just like to cause trouble, are incredibly curious, or will ignore you completely. There's a huge variety.”

  “What about that Black Walker thing?” I asked.

  “Ah,” Rast replied. “The Black Walker is a different beast entirely.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, the Black Walker is definitely an evil spirit. It's a very intelligent evil spirit that has discovered a way to enter the real world. That doesn't normally happen. There's a kind of...shield...that blocks the spirits from entering the real world, and keeps people in the real world from accidentally finding themselves in the spirit world. That's what Farrah was doing, earlier. She has an ability that allows her to sort of weaken the shield, allowing us to enter.” He smiled at me. “You'll learn how to do it soon enough, I'm sure.”

  Farrah nodded. “I will definitely teach you. All you really need is a clear mind and a reflective surface. But, no coming in here on your own, do you hear me? This place is dangerous, and it's even more dangerous when you don't know what you're doing. So keep out, unless I'm with you.”

  I shrugged. “I'm pretty sure I couldn't get in here even if I wanted to. I have no idea how you did what you did.”

  “Well, just in case, stay out unless I'm with you.” She glanced at Damon. “You seem to have a knack for getting yourself into trouble, even if it is usually an accident.”

  “Regardless,” Rast continued. “The Black Walker will be able to find you now whether you are in the spirit world or the real world. He's also discovered that if he can manage to get his hands on your blood, he'll be able to enter the real world permanently, and none of our banishing rituals will be enough to send him back. You come from a very important bloodline, Delaney, and while your mother did everything she could to see to it that you remained undiscovered for as long as possible, even she knew it would only be a matter of time before your father became too weak.”

  “What? My father? What does he have to do with this?”

  Rast stopped. “You mean your father never spoke to you about this?”

  “About this Black Walker thing? No, of course not. He knew? I didn't know anything about this Black Walker thing until tonight, when it attacked us at the school. I've never seen it before.”

  “Not just the Black Walker, Delaney. Did your father talk about your mother at all?”

  And that was Rast discovered that I didn't know I was a werewolf. He quickly got over his shock, or at least hid it well, and did his best to assure me that it was true. It explained so much, really, and to be honest, the more time I was spending with vampires, the more I was beginning to think there was more to my abilities than just being blessed with better than normal vision and hearing. Now I knew why I barely ever needed to sleep, or why I was always so hungry all the time. It explained my amazing sense of smell and how I could hear things from so far away. It explained how I was able to lift heavy things with such ease, and why I always had such a high endurance. I could swim or run all day and never get tired, and I always just blamed it on good genes – which, I suppose, was the understatement of the decade. I did question why my father never told me, though, and Rast had an answer for that, as well.