Halfway Dead (16 page)

“Her?” Jim asked. “Is it a tiny flying cat?”

Wulfric chuckled. “I would not share that opinion, Jim. Bindistrigh may take umbrage at your assessment of her species. She is assuredly no feline.”

“Bindi . . . stree?” Jim asked. “Who is, uh, she?”

“
She
is a Wisp, and she helps me from time to time. We have a mutually beneficial friendship; I supply her with cream and honey, and she leads to me points of interest on my land,” Wulfric explained.

“I thought you knew this land intimately?” I asked. I couldn’t imagine what was left to learn after a thousand years.

“Oh, to be sure.” His response was instant. “But, seasons bring new things, and Bindie leads me on the most interesting walks.”

“What would a thousand-year-old vampire consider interesting?” Jim asked, but he was grinning.

“Oh, mushrooms, which are delicious, or a wounded animal, which might also be delicious.” He grinned, looking rather predatory in that moment. “Lost hikers—that happens more than you might think, and they need to be urged back toward town in a subtle manner so that I may remain hidden. She’s found canoes, rogue poodles that got lost, and once, she took me to the remains of a downed hot air balloon. Thankfully, it was black, so I salvaged most of it for pack material and buried the rest. She even found a so-called explorer who—”

“Bindie saved Tyler Venture?” I blurted.

“You know him? What a remarkably stupid person. He was starving and lost, and yet too proud to listen to my advice. I’ve never encountered anyone like him before. He asked me if I had something called a cell phone charger, to which I responded I did not. In his disgust, he stalked off in the wrong direction yet again. It took the use of some friendly wolves to herd him toward Halfway before he starved to death.” Wulfric shook his head in amazement. “He really was the most obstinate fool I’ve ever seen. Did he survive?”

“Unfortunately, yes.” I made no bones about my opinion of that idiot.
You
try cooking gluten-free for a gaggle of screeching girls with their phones waving around trying to get a better signal, all while they apply lip gloss after every third bite. I’m surprised I didn’t commit a capital offense that week.

Wulfric merely grunted. It seemed that Iron-Age men were okay with thinning the herd of the exceptionally irritating. I liked him a little bit more just then. Jim shared a look with him, and they bonded ever so slightly over their mutual dislike for people like Tyler,
nee
Todd Smulowitz.

“How many hikers?” I asked. The question wasn’t really
just
about the hikers, it was a not-so-subtle query into how many people Wulfric might have eaten over the years. I hoped the number was low or zero.

Wulfric shrugged. “Dozens. Maybe a hundred or more. For centuries, it was merely Huron and Mohawk peoples, then the Europeans came, much later than I had. There were the explorers first—French, mostly, but they were well-seasoned men and women who knew the forest well. It wasn’t until this area became discovered by the wealthy that I began to have problems.”

“You mean a hundred and twenty years ago?” Jim asked. When I gave him a look, he explained, “The Robber Barons. They sent their timber men through here; quietly, of course, but also to search for oil and other resources. The real development came after people saw how stunning this area was. That was when they built their summer retreats.”

“The lodges? Right. But there aren’t any lodges near here, so why so many hikers?” I asked.

Wulfric pointed to the map. “Two reasons. There’s a natural fissure in the mountain ahead that funnels people toward my lands . . . and beyond. The second is that they were lured.”

“By the guardian of the spring? That’s sinister,” I said softly.

“It is not meant for men to control,” Wulfric announced.

I tended to agree, and I didn’t even know the whole story.

“There are many secrets like that,” Jim said, and I could tell that the soldier in him was speaking just then. He regarded Wulfric’s tall frame with a look of appraisal. “I cannot hope to beat you in a fight, Wulfric. What makes you think we can win without Carlie’s magic?” He’d voiced the thought that sat heavy on my tongue.

“Because she will have powerful magic for a little while, perhaps long enough to confront the beast and win. The spring is not guarded by one thing,” Wulfric said.

“The hikers?” I asked. “Are they undead?”

Wulfric nodded, sadly. “All of them. Wights. And a few that did not transition . . . properly.”

I started to say I could not imagine anything worse than a wight, but caught myself. I’d
killed
things that were more grotesque and dangerous than wights. The magic of this hidden spring must be ancient.

And toxic. That meant that there was a source, and if I could find that source, defeat the guardian, dissipate the magic and manage to survive, I might be able to end the curse on all of the victims who had fallen prey to the so-called Fountain of Youth.

“Wulfric, what happened to your uncle?” I asked.

He grew solemn, and the air thickened with a shadow of fear. “Dead. As is my mother, and father, and all of the men who were in our party. So too are the shield maidens, local guides, and two Huron children, who were camp followers, but well-loved little creatures just the same.”

I thought of a power that could wipe out an entire Viking raiding party, and began to wonder if it wasn’t just wise to call in an airstrike. Then I remembered I’m not in the Air Force, and I sighed for the ninth or tenth time. With every detail of Thendara, I was more convinced that it
had
to go. I just wasn’t sure how to go about achieving that end.

Jim, who had been in deep thought, began ticking points off on his fingers in complete silence, running through a mental checklist. When he reached the end, he asked, “Who survived, then?”

Wulfric’s expression grew sour. “The worst possible option. Our bard, Haldor.” He rubbed his face in a gesture of frustration before continuing. “He was returned from exile for killing a fisherman in a dispute. Gods, but he was honey-tongued. A voice like the morning birds, and his harp playing could coax the shyest maiden into bed. He was randy and feckless, and how he managed to come raiding I will never know. He was a man of weak character and great envy, but gifted, so his transgressions were often overlooked. Would that he had drowned him in the deep.”

“How did he survive contact with the spring?” I asked, hot with curiosity. This information was the key to our fight.

“He alone was corrupt among us. You must know, Carlie, that we were honest people, if rough in our methods. We sought new places and wealth, but for our time, we were neither cruel nor capricious. Haldor was both, and I believe that to be the reason for his survival when he drank of the spring. All else were corrupted eternally, and in seconds! The magic was so powerful as to send ripples across the flesh of each victim, turning them into horrific beasts. They in turn attacked us, and before we could flee, the creatures hurled us into the poisonous waters until all of us ingested the liquid death roiling in that hole.”

“And yet you survived, too?” Jim asked.

“Partially. I am half a man, Jim, and for that reason, I have planned to give whatever I must to end this threat to humanity. I can only assume that my heart was neither pure nor condemned; I floated somewhere in the middle of pleasing the gods, but remained outside their good will.Now, I shall sacrifice all to earn their forgiveness.” Wulfric flexed his long hands, looking at them with great guilt.

I stood and went to place a hand on his shoulder.

Wulfric did not look up, but he nodded in thanks.

“You were a young man, and you’ve paid a terrible price for nothing. Haldor isn’t even guilty.”

“He is most certainly a killer,” Wulfric said, as he regarded me with heat.

“He’s a pawn. A tool. A bag of flesh swayed by an evil that picked him up like a toy and exploited his worst aspects. We can free him, too,” I said. I felt myself smiling winningly at the big man before me, and hoping that he shared my sense of spiritual élan. Maybe clearing the slate for an ancient killer wasn’t everyone’s style, but it was the right thing to do. I’m not in the business of slaying humans when there’s a chance they can be reclaimed.

Wulfric stood abruptly, and his gaze flickered with a suspicious chill. “Let us hope you are right, Carlie. I hold no such aspirations, but I will not deny you the chance to do what you feel is right. Let us wait for our guide, then.” He turned his eyes to the open darkness of the window, and fell silent.

True to his word, Wulfric placed a finger to his lips moments later. I didn’t see anything, but I could
feel
a magic in the cool air flowing up and through the window.

Then Bindie appeared. I’ve never seen a Wisp, or to be accurate, never met one, so the entire vision of a small blue light hovering over the tiny dish of cream was, to say the least, rather cute. In motion, she was a nebula of cool blue light with hints of white flashing across the surface, but when she stilled to drink, I was stunned to see a rather complete looking woman on a miniature scale. When I leaned forward, light gleamed from something that covered her skin from neck to ankle. Her feet were encased in what could only be tiny sabatons of pure silver.

“My god. She’s wearing
armor
,” Jim rasped.

The resulting stream of high-pitched liquid invective was too fast for me to catch it all, but I understood enough to know that Jim was being blistered in a way that would make any soldier proud. Bindie completed her upbraiding with a rude gesture, and then proceeded to turn, in air, and waggle her miniature armor-clad ass at Jim in a most derogatory fashion. She rotated back, dipped a hand into the cream, and pointedly flicked a drop into Jim’s eye, all while smiling sweetly.

“Oh, I like her.” I grinned like a fool. She was probably packed with magical moxie.

She uttered another musical series of syllables that sounded like tiny bells drifting on the evening air, and Wulfric responded with a surprised grunt.

“Bindie says that there is magic afoot tonight.” He gestured carefully toward her, listening to another flowing series of chirps. “Creatures are moving. There is something happening that has made the air smell of danger.”

Bindie responded by drawing a small sword and cutting it through the halo of blue light in a series of lightning moves. Her blade glittered with beautiful lethality, and she fairly danced in the air. I could see no wings on her back, but there was a blur around her. Maybe she was simply moving too fast for me to discern their existence, or perhaps she was a wholly magical creature. Either option worked for me. I knew that as a guide, a Wisp was unerring in its ability to lead.

Wulfric cocked his head and listened to Bindie once more, but this time there was a distinct sing-song quality to her speech. She was reciting something, and doing so with a minimum of motion. As she slowed down, I could see diaphanous wings of a transparency, so complete that they were merely outlines, like starlight itself had been conjured onto her back. The wings were longer than her body and, oddly enough, I got the impression of sturdiness from them.

“Agreed,” Wulfric said in a formal tone. He turned to us and nodded gravely. “Bindie and I have reached a contract that is acceptable to all parties. She will be paid by me, over time, unless you happen to have access to delicacies?” He looked at me hopefully.

“Define delicacies, please.” I bowed slightly to Bindie, according her a good measure of respect for her inclusion in our quest.

After another raucous chittering directed at Wulfric, he translated, “She is particularly fond of baked goods, sweets in general, and anything that is made with honey or maple syrup. It’s her weakness.” He smiled as a tiny laugh, clear and high, came from Bindie while he described her preferences.

I smiled with relief. “I believe I may be of some service here. Do you visit town, Bindie? Halfway?”

A single chirp told me yes.

“You know the diner? I’m the cook—or one of the cooks, I should say, but I’m known for my waffles. Does that interest you?”

The reaction was like a small supernova had gone off in her hazy glove of light. A cheerful blast of syllables went on for nearly a minute before Wulfric shrugged helplessly. “She has tried them before, and she asks if you would consider adding berries to a waffle?”

“Of course. The customer is always right.” I held out a finger, and Bindie flew forward to give me the Wisp equivalent of a high five. The tiny impact sealed our deal, and I imagined making waffles the size of a dime. I do like a challenge.

“We are agreed, then. I think we rest, and leave in the morning after I care for the animals,” Wulfric announced.

“Animals?” Jim asked. He craned his neck, looking for evidence of said beasts. He was answered with an amiable blatting from a nearby goat.

“That would be Mabel. She’s one of four. I keep goats for milk, a cow for company, and there are numerous other denizens of my lands who manage to climb in through the window for scraps. It’s rather wild around here.” Wulfric smiled while listening to the continuing noises from outside.

“Where did they come from?” I asked. I couldn’t imagine anyone herding goats into this part of the park.

“My own herd, carefully preserved over some time,” Wulfric said blandly. When I lifted a brow, he clarified, “I collected the first livestock more than a century ago. I keep them safe, and introduce new blood where and when I can. You’d be surprised what wanders loose here in the mountains. For a decade, I couldn’t leave my herd outside due to a rather healthy population of mountain lions.”

“I imagine it was rather gamey in your castle,” Jim observed. His voice was equally toneless, but a smile hinted at his lips.

“They’re still here, you know,” I blurted. Wulfric’s alarm made me continue, hurriedly. “We saw prints near our camp.
In
our camp, if truth be told. It was a bit unsettling.”

“They’re dangerous animals,” Wulfric admitted. “Not to me, but to hikers, or other animals—there’s a considerable difference between a large cat and similar-sized dog. They think differently, hunt in distinct styles, and have a near opposite outlook on their willingness to take suggestions from others.”

“That’s one way of saying they’re unsocial,” Jim mumbled.

“Correct. We’ll be free of their presence tomorrow; they don’t approach me when I travel. I’m shocked that one came anywhere near your camp, to be frank. I haven’t seen one here in several years. I encourage them to move north when they do make their presence known. There’s too much foot traffic to risk an attack and the subsequent attention it would bring.” Wulfric busied himself with setting out more milk for Bindie, who was now sitting cross-legged in a state of near somnolence after drinking her fill from the bowl. Wulfric looked down at her, shaking his head. “A lovely creature, but she cannot hold her milk.” At Bindie’s indignant squeak, he laughed until her light crackled with the Wisp equivalent of a raspberry.

“How long will we travel to reach Thendara?” Jim asked.

Wulfric’s face shifted into a serious mask as he squinted into the gloom outside the open window. “Three days at most, depending on the current location of the spring.”

“It moves?” I asked in wonder. I’d heard of such things, the famed River Styx being one such body of water that never seemed willing to stay put long enough for mortals to exploit.

Jim shook his head slowly, drinking in the casually alien nature of magical things. “Does Bindie use, ahh . . . magic? Or is she simply a tracker?”

“Both, actually.” Wulfric spread his hands apart, indicating two distinct things. “She can track anything over any territory, regardless of the conditions. But for something like the spring, it’s even less of a challenge for her, because there is a physical quality to the site that cannot change.”

“The trees. They’re part of the spring and its power,” I said, guessing.

I was right.

Wulfric nodded, while a slow smile spread across his face. “The trees are rather tall. Therefore, they’re difficult to hide, even if the entire site was not radiating magic in a pulsating ring. It’s quite unnerving to all creatures who are magical in nature. Bindie will take us as close as she can stand, then depart. I don’t want her irreparably harmed by the emanations, let alone the creatures waiting.”

Bindie chirped with drunken indignation.

“Not that you can’t fight, brave one,” Wulfric added in a soothing tone.

The Wisp subsided into a somnolent angle of repose once again. He looked at me while processing a question. “How did you first become aware of the spring? Not your family, just you.”

“I didn’t. I went to the library seeking information about the chestnut trees, and saw something on a piece of glass.” I wasn’t sure if Wulfric would understand photography.

“A photographic plate?”

I jumped, caught off guard by his glib response. “You know about cameras?”

Jim looked as surprised as I did. Wulfric certainly wasn’t lost in time, even if he was trapped in a forest.

Wulfric pointed to a previously-unseen antique camera standing on a wooden tripod. “I do, thanks to the wanderings of a man named Royston Birdwell. He roamed this area for some time, taking pictures of all manner of things.”

“I know that name. I’ve heard it before,” I said, dredging through my memory to look for hints of the unusual, long-forgotten photographer.

“He lived in Saranac for many years, before moving west. He left that camera to me after I saved him from a particularly unpleasant bear. He violated one of the unwritten rules of nature,” Wulfric said with a smile.

“Don’t mess with the babies,” Jim said with a grin of his own. Getting near bear cubs was akin to stepping in front of a train; it simply wasn’t done, unless you had a desire to see heaven that afternoon.

“Exactly, so I convinced the bear family to move along, and then took nearly an hour to coax Royston—who turned out to be quite the tree climber, by the way—that it was safe to descend. As a thank you, he gave me that beautiful camera, and spent an entire day discussing the science of photography with me.”

“So you’re aware of the glass plates, then?” I asked to confirm. At his nod, I began to describe the discovery in the hidden library archives. “I have a family connection to Thendara, but I also need to bring this ghost to rest. He’s my blood, and he’s been trapped for a long time.”

Wulfric’s snort told me of my error, and I grinned in apology. “Sorry. That was a bit dense of me.” He’d been trapped for a millennia. If anyone knew the frustration of confinement, it was Wulfric.

“Who is the spirit, and more importantly, how did he come to be marooned here?” Wulfric asked.

“A distant relative named Erasmus; a boy, really. No more than twelve years old. I can only assume he was murdered, since the image on the plate is so vibrant. It takes muscle for a ghost to reach into our world, and even more determination to direct motion or messages in a specific way. He knew me at sight, so to speak, and I feel obligated to vindicate him.” I folded my arms and began to reconsider just what that might mean, given what we now understood about the spring.

“The boy deserves to rest,” Jim said quietly.

I could feel his indignation at the idea that a child could be killed for any reason. I shared that reaction.

“Then we will find a way to free him from his torment.” Wulfric sighed heavily, a fully human gesture that made him sound tired. “We can discuss strategy on the way, for there is no need for stealth. These are my lands, and we walk safely until the edge of my control. The spring is within my lands; it always has been, but for tomorrow and the next day, we walk openly and without care.” He inhaled deeply, breathing in the chill air that was tinted with the smell of dew and forest. “Let us eat and rest. We leave at dawn.”

I looked into the fire and wondered what awaited us three days’ hence. In my understanding of magic, the number three carried a weight all its own. There could be great rancor or joy, depending on what we could achieve as a group.

Erasmus was waiting, and so was Haldor. I wondered exactly which of them would be free in the end, and a chill settled on me, much cooler than the night.