Irregulars

The Scarlet Thread Irregulars (Serial Story) — Chapter 9

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Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12

Chapter 9: My team comes face to face with a villain

Thursday the 12th of October, 2006 – Shields Crossing, Ontario

They called him Galaus the Slayer. Might sound a little melodramatic but it was pretty fair for having killed half the council in the late nineteenth century.

There was a large sign at the edge of his property that read, “Stay the F out.” It was underlined by a black arming sword that looked a lot like mine.

Sylvie chuckled and said, “Really? The big bad slayer couldn’t write the whole word?”

The trees were tightly packed, but once we passed the sign,, there was a perfectly round clearing with a little white house in the centre. The clearing was at least half a kilometre in diameter. “Stay on the road,” I told the others as we walked up to the house, “I’d be ready to bet there are traps in the grass areas.”

“That’s pretty harsh,” Grant said, moving more into the centre of the road.

“Do you blame the man? He’s been hunted by Gatekeepers for over a hundred years,” Ursula added.

“That means he’s seen us coming already and he’s overly cautious. We should be ready to protect ourselves,” Sylvie said while zipping up her jacket and tapping the zipper three times. I assumed her fiancée had put some sort of protective magic on it.

“Keep your swords sheathed,” I ordered as we got half way to the little house. “We don’t w—” A streak of dark light flew toward me and suddenly an onyx black sword was being held to my neck. 

A man that looked like he was in his nineties but moved like he was in his twenties stood in front of me, holding the sword in one hand and a sawed-off shotgun in the other. “I thought the council had finally given up trying to kill me.” Despite living in the woods, he wore a three piece charcoal suit.

“We’re not here to kill you. We’re here to ask you for help.”

He laughed and replied, “You’re either desperate or stupid.”

“Oh he’s definitely both sir,” Sylvie quipped. Her posture was relaxed but it was a little forced. I knew her well enough that she was calculating the risks he posed and what she needed to do to neutralize him as a threat. 

“Ha!” he said and added, “Family huh? Interesting. Show me your swords.” His sword and gun didn’t waver. The group all summoned their swords and he relaxed a little. “What about you?” He punctuated the question with his sword.

I summoned my sword in reverse grip, planting its tip in the gravel road and leaning on it.

The man nodded and asked, “Who was your master?”

The rest of the group pointed at me and I sighed. If Lance was a traitor, he’d either framed or tried to kill him and I really didn’t want to say his name. “Please don’t puncture me but my master was Lance.”

“He taught a blackblade? I’m surprised. You must have been very trusting.” He brought his sword and gun down. “What do you want from an old, tired man?” He turned around and started walking to the house.

I took that as an invitation to follow and answered his question, “The Gatekeepers have made a name for themselves as being honourable. I had no reason to doubt him.”

“Sounds like you needed to believe you were chosen to do good.” He paused and took a deep, shaky breath before continuing, “I was the same way at your age. The Gatekeepers were the incorruptible knights. They represented all that was good and trustworthy. But not all of us liked following a strict moral code.

“War was brewing and we knew it was going to be massive. After the Magical community got together and voted to stay neutral, there was a lot of trouble. The wizards asked us to act as peace keepers. The Gatekeeper council decided to not interfere in the war but still keep helping individuals who needed it.

“The goldblades didn’t agree; they thought that we could do more good fighting the war than staying out of it. Lance and the others attacked the council and despite my best attempts I wasn’t able to save them.”

“That’s quite a story,” Sylvie said, looking not the least impressed. She glared at him, obviously waiting for more information.

Turning around to face me, the man said, “You have a lippy one. You’ll have to train some respect into her.”

“Never talk about one of my knights like that again,” I said growling a little. I was going to follow it up with something devastatingly clever but got distracted.

We were close to the house now and something smelled off. I should be smelling grass, forest, and some woodsmoke from the house, but instead I was smelling sulfur and rotten eggs.

I stopped moving and held my hand up in a fist to tell the others to do the same.

“Sylvie, Grant, and Ursula, could you please take out your swords?”

The moment the rainbow swords appeared, the environment around us changed. The perfectly manicured lawn became marshy wetlands, the small house turned into a familiar mansion, and the old man became Luc. 

“Oh darn, I almost had you.” He didn’t seem all that surprised. “It’s a matter of time. You’ll come begging me to help you in chapter eleven.”

“What did you do with Galaus?” I asked, ignoring his words.

The devil smiled widely and replied, “That’s the great part. I didn’t do anything. I just tricked your GPS.” To Sylvie, he asked, “When did you know?”

She replied, “Your tongue touches your front teeth after you lie. Your suit is too modern. A hundred year old knight would wear something more vintage.”

“I knew I should have gone with tails.” Luc snapped his fingers in mock disappointment.

Sylvie shook her head and said, “To be more authentic, I’d go with a long black double-breasted coat, a black vest, and a white dress shirt with a bow tie. Don’t forget the bowler hat.”

“That’s awfully specific, wh—” Luc was cut off by a dark blade piercing his throat. Behind him, having appeared without warning, was a large, sixty year old man sporting a bright orange handlebar moustache and dressed exactly as Sylvie had described.

Luc’s body turned to black smoke and floated into the mansion as both disappeared, leaving us facing the newcomer whose blade was now pointed toward me.

With a heavy Scottish accent, the man said, “Pie said you might need some help.”

Read Chapter 10

While you wait for the next chapter, check out the previous serial stories:

The Scarlet Thread Irregulars (Serial Story) — Chapter 8

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Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12

Chapter 8: My team talks while eating pie and talking about sword colours

Thursday the 12th of October, 2006 – Shields Crossing, Ontario

We once again sat at the Pie’s Shop. 

A thin girl with curly brown hair, smiled showing her braces, and said, “What can I get you?” 

We ordered and she frantically scribbled on her pad of paper. She repeated our order and I asked, “Where’s Pie?”

“Grannie’s in the back pretending she isn’t watching me. I’m Piper the third and I’m eleven.” She sounded proud and ran off to the kitchen. She got the orders right but the people wrong. When she left after giving us our orders, we all switched.

With no one in the store but us and the kid in the back, I said, “Okay, what do we know?”

“Someone is messing with the Aether in this town and they’re not happy we’re here,” Grant said.

“Maybe it’s time to contact the council?” Ursula asked. I knew she was scared because she hated the council, and said they freaked her out.

The rest looked at me expectantly. I nodded and said, “Fine. I’ll call Lance.” I took out my phone and called my former master. “Hey Lance. I have a problem I need your help with.”

“You need help?” I could hear the smugness in his voice. “I’m shocked. What’s the issue?”

I explained to him the whole thing and then asked, “Does this fit any previous patterns?”

After a prolonged silence he said, “Sounds like a rogue wizard to me. I’ll contact the Wizard’s Council. You and your team stand down. I’ve heard of a disturbance in Hearst, head up there. Remember you’re on thin ice, don’t mess this up.” He hung up.

“He’s an ass,” Sylvie said. The rest of them nodded. 

“He’s in charge of the entire east coast.”

“Still a dick,” added Ursula. 

I tried to take a drink from my coffee but it was empty. Finally, I said, “He told us to head out.” When everyone looked disappointed, I added, “Too bad that the van was destroyed and we’re having trouble getting another one.” 

Sylvie was the first to understand. “Yeah, and a small town like this, it could take a few days.”

“We could rent two cars,” suggested Clifford. A stern glance from Ursula made him rethink, and he tapped his nose. “Oh. Right.” 

“Do you really think he’ll call the Wizard’s Council?” Grant asked. 

“Only one way to find out.” Again I pulled out my phone and dialled an old friend.

“Alfy! How are you? Is this business, pleasure, or Annabel?” Jack’s slight British accent was thicker when he was teasing. 

“Business, unfortunately. Do you know if any of the Gatekeepers called the Council about something happening in Shields Crossing?”

“You should call her. No. Nothing yet. Do you need my help? Or do you want to me call if I get the call?” I once again explained the whole thing. He didn’t hesitate to say, “Sounds like an artificer or summoner. I haven’t gotten word of anyone like that. Do you want me to come up there? It’s only a few hours.”

“No thank you. Just call if you hear anything. I’m starting to think I know what’s going on.”

Sylvie swore and then swore again. We heard giggles from the kitchen and Sylvie shouted, “Sorry!” When everyone seemed confused, she explained, “Lance is either our problem or he’s covering for them.”

Everyone else protested but eventually came to the same conclusion.

“Lance trained me, he taught me everything I know about the Gatekeepers. That means everything you know. We need to find another senior knight—”

“Not a council member,” interrupted Sylvie. “We need someone who’s neutral.”

I nodded and was going to ask where we could find someone, when Pie walked in and said, “My hearing is still very good. Did you need another Gatekeeper?”

“Yes. Preferably someone not part of the council.”

“I know just who you need. Galaus,” she said with a small smirk.

The name sounded familiar and I almost gasped when I realized who he was. “The traitor?”

“Bah,” she said and moved her hands like she was trying to fan away a bad smell. “He’s a sweetheart and his reputation isn’t deserved.”

“Lance told me that when he was a new recruit, his master had become jealous of his golden sword and tried to kill him. Something that’s unfortunately common with black-blades.” I looked down and finished with, “He almost succeeded. Apparently, he took out half the council elders before he disappeared.”

“When was this?” Sylvie asked.

“Sometime in the eighties.” I replied.

Pie tsked and added, “The eighteen eighties, dears. Although how that’s possible is beyond me.” Her tone and wink made it clear that she fully understood.

“We’re going to live past a hundred?” Grant asked, looking excited.

I sighed and said, “Some of us, yes. Knights with silver blades can live a few decades longer than normal humans. The others live longer, with the gold living the longest. No one on the council is under a hundred and they all look like they stopped aging in their forties. At least, that’s what Lance told me.”

“What’s everyone’s sword colour?” asked Sylvie.

We all put our swords on the table. Robin had a green blade, Grant and Ursula had rainbow, and Clifford had ruby.

“So we have gold for ruling class, rainbow for freedom knights, and black for sinful knights, but what are the others?”

“I’m a nature knight,” answered Robin. “We’re champions of the natural world, protecting it from the aether.”

“I’m a knight of safety. I protect those places that are sacred or safe,” Clifford said proudly.

I continued, “Each specialty comes with some extra powers. Ruby knights can inscribe protective runes in places that prevent the aether from leaking in, nature knights can heal nature or animals from magical harm.” I paused just to tease her before continuing, “Rainbow knights break mind-affecting spells simply by being in the same room, and gold can use aether like a wizard.”

“What about silver and black?” Sylvie asked, literally on the edge of her seat.

“Silver can heal and recharge from the things they banish and black can bolster everyone else’s powers around them.

She laughed and quipped, “Ah yes, helping your allies. That’s definitely the evil sword power.”

Read Chapter 9

While you wait for the next chapter, check out the previous serial stories:

The Scarlet Thread Irregulars (Serial Story) — Chapter 7

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Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12

Wednesday the 11th of October, 2006 – Shields Crossing, Ontario

Cartoon physics would have had them flying hood over tailpipe, but real world physics still seemed to be in effect. Popeye punched right through the hood of the van and his arm got stuck.

“Get out!” I shouted and everyone jumped out of the van. I was glad I got the extra insurance on the rental. It’s a no-brainer when fighting Aether-creatures.

Popeye picked up the van and tossed it into the forest with a crash of trees. “The boss wants to talk with ya,” he said.

“Ga Bort!” I shouted and pushed my will against him. He was an Aether-creature but he’d been made by a wizard, which meant he had some defences against us sending him back to the Aether.

The others understood and started to help. He was a strong construct, pun intended, and he was able to resist five trained knights. I was starting to feel my will weaken when I heard Sylvie shout, “Glannchient!” and her will was added to the pressure of ours. With an audible pop and sploosh, Popeye became an equal weight of Aethergoo. 

“Good job, group. Anyone’s cell working?” I asked as mine only reflected my face and wouldn’t turn on. 

Each of them said no until Sylvie. “Mine is fine. My fiancée made it. It’s water proof, magic proof, and can actually stop a bullet.” She stared blankly at the phone and then asked, “Who do I call? Normally with this kind of thing, I call you.”

I laughed and said, “Let’s just look at how far we are from town.” The thing about Ontario is once you start driving, if you’re not familiar with the area, distances and time become useless. It should be a twenty minute drive to our hotel from where we started but how far we’d gone and how that translates to distance is a magic beyond me.

She pulled up the DT Maps app and it showed we were a ten minute walk from our hotel on the edge of town. With the night having finally covered the world, we trudged back to civilization.

“Did the devil send Popeye?” Sylvie asked.

“I doubt it,” Grant replied. “He felt too put together to be a random Aether-creature but he also was too weak to be made by the Devil himself.”

“That was weak?” Sylvie’s eyes looked like they were going to fall out.

“Unfortunately, he was a well-made Aether-creature but he wasn’t sapient. Which means he shouldn’t have been able to fight back. Unless he was created by a wizard. Probably expecting him to face one or two Gatekeepers, not six.” I patted her shoulder. 

“Who then?”

“Same person who placed the Adlats and summoned the House of the Rising Sun,” I replied.

Looking expectant, Sylvie asked, “Who?”

“I have no clue.”

We walked in silence and as we approached the hotel I smirked and said, “Glannchient? Really? Every language in existence and you choose High-Pakahan?”

“Oh, leave me alone, it’s the only thing I could think of. At least it means, ‘to banish’. You literally say, ‘go away’.”

“Nerd,” I teased.

“Dork,” she rebutted.

We were all exhausted and the world didn’t seem to be imploding yet, so we separated into our hotel rooms. Ursula and Robin always stayed together. Robin and Grant had a hate-flirt relationship going and It was better to put them with an older and more level headed person. Clifford had taken to tutoring the younger man, whether he liked it or not, in business and real art.

I snored, so I got my own room. Also, I was in charge and didn’t want to deal with their bickering all night and day. Sylvie joined me in my room since she didn’t have one. She’d expected to go home by nightfall.

I managed to take off my coat and shoes but I fell asleep before I could do anything else. It had been a long day. 

The smell of coffee and grease woke me up. “Aarrggg,” I said.

Snickering, Sylvie said, “Articulate. I can really hear the Oxford accent there. This is why you get all the girls.”

I glared at her and took the breakfast and coffee she was offering. When I was finished, I looked at her and said, “How do you look perfectly put together? It’s…” I looked at my watch. “Six?” 

“I’m not new to the road life, cuz. My mom dragged us across the country. I learned how to look military clean before I was six. What’s your excuse?”

“My excuse is that I used more energy yesterday than I ever have and it was just a bunch of near misses. I have no idea what or who we’re up against.” I didn’t like admitting it.

Silvie made a face as she sipped from her cup, “The Dancing Goat has really spoiled cheap coffee for me.” She paused and asked, “Don’t you, I mean, we, have a chain of command?”

“Each knight is apprenticed to someone until they’re ready. Then they wander the world trying to help the helpless and all that. Once they’ve completed a few quests, they apply to be posted somewhere and the council posts them where they are most needed.”

She swore, “That sounds like a military version of a pyramid scheme. Who decides the council?”

“They’re appointed when their swords turn to gold,” I replied.

“Hum… Who gives the swords?”

I shrugged. “There are a lot of ideas but no one really knows.”

She summoned her sword and I nodded. It took Clifford a week before he could do it consistently.

Looking at the long thin blade, she asked, “Why is it rainbow coloured.” She was right, the metal looked like it was forged in multicoloured waves.

“Rainbow is associated with knights that are ideologically linked with protecting freedom.”

Dismissing the sword, she said, “We’re colour coded?”

“Not really. Council members are gold, freedom knights are rainbow, and most other knights are silver.”

“And what about you? What colour is your blade?” she asked. She might have seen it but it was in a stressful situation.

I summoned the blade. It was pure black with dark grey swirls that glowed a gentle light. “It’s black. It’s for the knights that have sins to atone for basically, I’m on divine probation.”

Read Chapter 8

While you wait for the next chapter, check out the previous serial stories:

The Scarlet Thread Irregulars (Serial Story) — Chapter 6

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Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12

Chapter 6: My team dances with the devil

Wednesday the 11th of October, 2006 – Shields Crossing, Ontario

“In my defence, in movies, bottles break really easily,” I said feeling sheepish. The bottle just sort of lay there at his feet.

“Did you really think a little holy water would stop the devil?” he asked incredulously. Then he picked up the bottle and unscrewed the cover. An extremely strong smell of olive oil, peppermint, and rosemary permeated the air. What couldn’t be smelled was the purified salt and iron. He laughed and said, “I am not a salad.”

“Oh, it wasn’t for you,” I replied.

“Who—” He turned in time to see Sylvie’s fist.

“Me, you asshole,” she said to punctuate the hit. 

I heard his nose break. He dropped the mixture, splashing it on himself. Where the liquid hit him, he burst into flames. The same thing happened when it hit the floor.

For one triumphant moment, I thought we’d won. Then the fire petered out and the devil reappeared next to his own body. He slow-clapped to rub it in and said, “I’m impressed. Beside myself, really.” I ignored his pun. “What was in that?”

“Extra virgin olive oil from the same tree species as the cross of Christ, rosemary oil, peppermint oil, salt, and iron shavings. All of which is blessed by six different religious leaders,” I said with a sigh. It was a sort of catch all, it should slow down ghosts, demons, angels, undead, Fay, and most things considered evil in western mythology.

“Let’s talk business then.” Luc smiled, his mouth looking two sizes too big.

“You forget that you have six knights in front of you,” Clifford quipped and tried to summon his sword. It didn’t work. “Um. Maybe we can negotiate?”

To give the devil his due, he didn’t seem angry and just chuckled. “Enough silliness. Everyone sit down!” His words were a command with magic behind it. The table and chairs all moved to fulfil his will.

Killing him didn’t work. It must be the building that’s the source of the magic, not him, I said to my team in mindspeak. None of them replied.

“Good deduction,” Luc said. “Mindspeak doesn’t work here. Same as your weapons, and any real magic.” 

“What do you want?” Sylvie asked, looking ready to punch him again.

“It’s simple, I have something you want and you have something I want.”

“What is that? Our souls?” Sylvie asked sarcastically. When he didn’t correct her, she rolled her eyes and said, “I’m an atheist.”

“Then you’re trading something for nothing.” A flourish of his hand had a contract appear in front of her, along with a comically long feathered pen.

Scoffing, Sylvie replied, “My wife explained to me that there are some actions, especially with magic, where the intent and the willingness to do the action is more important than the consequences. If I sold you my soul, even if there is no such thing, I would still have sold my soul and been willing to sell it. No way am I signing anything you give me.”

Luc squinted at her and said, “Aren’t you a cop?”

“Ex-cop and there’s a reason for that, which I won’t be sharing with the literal devil.” 

Flapping his hands dramatically, contracts appeared in front of everyone but Grant.

Mine promised me a life with the woman I loved and the ability to protect the world. It was tempting but my love would have to choose me or it wouldn’t matter. I pushed the contract away.

“What’s the matter Galahad? Not a good enough deal?”

“I’m far from pure and certainly not incorruptible, but your act doesn’t interest me.”

“Well, if I can’t make a deal with you, I’ll make one with one of the others.”

“No!” I ordered. “You have nothing we want other than our freedom.” I started getting up and added, “Your hospitality has been adequate but we must be on our way.” I focused all my energy toward the building in the same way I would for an Aether-creature and I felt the house pushing back.

With a comical pout, Luc said, “You’re free to go then. But this isn’t the end. I will have your souls.” He cackled and the entire house faded away, leaving us shivering in the forest.

“What? That was—” Sylvie started and I cut her off.

“No. Don’t! Just don’t.” I looked around but there was no hint that the area had ever been inhabited by anything bigger than a squirrel.

“Did you take care of whatever was in the caves?” 

“Actually, Grant did,” I said. 

Sylvie looked him up and down and didn’t say anything. I was having the same doubts that she was but there wasn’t anything I could do about it, yet.

“So was that my quest?” Sylvie asked. 

“Let’s head back to the hotel and lick our,” I looked around, “metaphorical wounds and go on from there.”

As I drove the van around the lake and back toward town, I heard Ursula tell Sylvie, “Some people get the sword before their quest, like me. I got the sword two months before anything exciting happened. Others get it after a show of bravery like Albert. And finally others get it in the middle. You’ll know when it’s over. You’ll feel more secure and safe with the sword.”

Sylvie sighed and replied, “It’s not over. There’s something we’re missing.”

I hit the brakes as hard as I could and swore.

In front of the van was something that filled me with terror. Looking at us bewildered was Popeye the Sailor man in glorious two-dimensional animation.

Clifford was the first to echo my sentiment but soon everyone but Sylvie swore in various languages. 

“It’s just a cartoon. You took on the devil? What am I missing?”

I was the first to explain, “Cartoon characters follow their own rules. They don’t care about things like real life or physics. They’re made by someone extremely powerful or a full-on rupture of the barrier protecting us from voracity of the Aether.”

“Dramatic much, cuz?”

“He’s saying that either we’re facing a mage of Merlin level or someone destroyed a part of the barrier in one of the places it’s the strongest.” Ursula said.

From outside with a bellowing baritone, Popeye said, “I’m strong to the finish ’cause I eats me spinach,” and flexed his improbably shaped arms before punching down on the front of the van.

Read Chapter 7

While you wait for the next chapter, check out the previous serial stories:

The Scarlet Thread Irregulars (Serial Story) — Chapter 5

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Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12

Chapter 5: My team enters the house of the rising sun

Wednesday the 11th of October, 2006 – Shields Crossing, Ontario

We stood in front of the whitewashed antebellum style house and despite the waves of heat coming off it, I shivered.

The sign read, “Luc’s House of the Rising Sun.”

“Are we dealing with a sapient house, an Aetherborn version of the devil, or something else?” squeaked Robin, her eyes wide.

“That house is wrong,” Clifford said in disgust.

Laughing hysterically, Grant asked, “The house of evil is wrong? Oh really?” He sounded ready to run.

Clifford scoffed and replied, “No, the roof is wrong. Antebellum-style houses had a hipped or gabled roof; this one has more of a steeped roof which was neo-gothic. Although It is from the same time period.” 

“Very educational. Are we really going into that place?” Ursula’s voice was monotone but she looked nervous.

I looked them over and took a deep breath before saying, “I want you each to centre yourselves and tell me what your senses say about this place.”

They did as I said and after a few moments, Clifford said, “It’s old, really old. We might be seeing a hundred year old house, but it’s much older.”

“Good,” I said. “Grant?”

He replied, “It doesn’t feel like Fay magic but it doesn’t feel exactly like Aether either.”

“Excellent. Ursula, what can you tell me about the size?”

“It’s bigger than it looks. The outside is just a shell, the inside is massive. The size of a whole city.”

“You’re all doing great. Robin, your turn.” 

She took a deep breath and said, “It smells hungry.”

“It is,” I said. “I’ve seen something like this before. It’s extremely rare. It’s a house or concept created by Aether but that subsists on eating people’s quintessence.” I turned to my team and said, “You’ve been a great team. I think you’ve all grown since I first met you. This isn’t part of our mission and I won’t ask you to go. Thank you for giving me the honour of teaching you.” I turned back to the house and started to walk toward the entrance.

As I entered, I heard my team follow me. I hadn’t been sure they would but I’d hoped.

Once inside the house, the heat was humid and sticky. The smell of food and alcohol wafted from somewhere ahead of me. My traitorous stomach grumbled. 

There was a black man dressed all in white standing at a little podium in the entryway. It all looked like a fancy restaurant or members only club. 

The man was looking at a list and made a small cough before saying, “Sir Therien, party of six is it?”

“Where is my cousin?”

“She’s waiting for you inside with Master Luc.” The man said the name with a soft C like in Lucy. “Please follow me.”  When he gestured, I saw a red mark on his wrist; it was a small stylized skull.

The restaurant had no closed walls, allowing a tropical breeze to blow in, bringing the smell of ocean and flowers to compete with those of the feast of a buffet.

The place was full of people, each with the red skull mark on a part of their body. The further we went into the size and physics defying room, the more desiccated and mummy-like the people became.

When we passed the buffet and approached the far doors, I asked again, “Where’s my cousin?” 

“Just through here sir,” the man pointed at a door that hadn’t been there a second before.

As we crossed the threshold, the heat changed to dry heat and we were on a balcony of a Greek style house. The city outside was burning and someone was playing sad bagpipes.

“At least it’s not the library,” I quipped. 

The man guiding us had disappeared and another man in an all black suit came out of one of the other two doors. “Would you prefer that?” he asked.

“No. Where’s my cousin?” I asked.

“She’ll be along soon. I just wanted to meet this generation’s Galahad.” He spoke quickly like an actor rushing his lines.

“Anyone who thinks I’m incorruptible lacks imagination,” I said before taking a formal tone, “Thrice I have asked, thrice you have denied me. I declare this establishment in contempt of the rules of hospitality.”

The man smiled in a way that didn’t touch any other part of his face and moved really close to me before saying, “Are you invoking Fay in the Devil’s home? The entirety of the Fay Kingdoms couldn’t hope to understand the depth of power here, none of which is bound by such childish rules.” 

“The Supernatural Accords of 1991 state that any member of the magical community who kidnaps another sapient creature forfeits their rights to retaliation or defence.” My sword appeared in my hand and I nicked the man’s neck just below his jaw. The cut was shallow but I was still surprised to see the lack of blood. Before the man could react, I placed the tip of my sword on his shoulder and said, “Tell Lucy that I will rip this place apart spell by spell if he doesn’t bring me my cousin in the next thirty seconds.” The man’s shoulder started to sizzle as I pushed power into my sword. 

I counted in my head and when I reached  twenty-nine: Sylvie walked in from the same door we’d come from. She was followed by a man dressed all in red with a matching cane. 

Syl, are you okay?

She didn’t answer. Her eyes were open but glazed, and she moved awkwardly, like she was a puppet. 

“You wanted to see me?” the man asked. He looked like a movie star; white teeth, pale skin, black hair, and a jawline that screamed “manly”.

“I’m going to give you one warning. Release Sylvie and we’ll leave here peacefully.” From the corner of my eye I saw Grant looking horrified at what I said.

“What are you going to do? Stab me? I don’t remember swords being all that effective against the devil.” The man laughed and Sylvie followed in a mechanical imitation.

“I warned you,” I said and pulled a bottle out of my coat. I threw the water at the man. Nothing happened.

Read Chapter 6

While you wait for the next chapter, check out the previous serial stories:

The Scarlet Thread Irregulars (Serial Story) — Chapter 4

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Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12

Chapter 4: My team is ambushed by cryptids and I lose my cousin

Wednesday the 11th of October, 2006 – Shields Crossing, Ontario

“What the hell is that?” Ursula asked. 

“I think ‘Hell’ is exactly what it is,” replied Grant. 

I could tell neither of them had heard the scream through mindspeak, which meant it was Sylvie. “The other group’s in trouble, we’ll look into this place later.” 

Turning to run, I hoped they would follow. 

Al, get over here. I don’t think I can fight this off for much longer. Sylvie’s voice sounded strained but also excited.

Give me a sign as to where you are, I said. The woods were huge, and other than south, I had no idea where they’d gone.

The mosquitoes seemed to get thicker. They buzzed and bit before suddenly disappearing. I attributed it to the dropping temperature. Between the sun setting and moving away from the house, it was getting colder fast. 

A bright pillar of light slashed the sky. Thanks. We’re on our way.

She didn’t reply and a few moments later the light went out. The forest got thicker and I fought my way through until we reached the edge of a cliff overlooking the shore. I almost fell but managed to stop.

“Where are they?” asked Grant between breaths. He needed more running practice.

“There!” Ursula said, pointing at a cave on the rocky beach.

The sunset turned vivid red and a cool wind swept up the river. Just as I was going to argue, a small bear-like creature came out of the cave and started howling. Its jaws opened to a ninety degree angle and froth dripped from its mouth.  

The sound of its howl sent a shiver of fear through me, and just as quickly as it had started, the howl was replaced by the most amazing sound. Like music, love, and warmth had been combined. I wanted nothing more than to go toward that sound. 

I heard Grant swear and felt him try to grab me, but I fought him. I ran straight for the cave, not caring that there was a six foot drop to the beach. I felt the freedom of running on air followed by a fall but not the landing.

The next thing I knew, I was waking up in the cave with the rest of the group, covered in blood, with a massive headache.

Grant stood over us wearing earbuds and brandishing his sword. “Are you okay?” he yelled.

I patted myself down and gave him the thumbs up. He took out the earbuds and gave a deep sigh.

There were three creatures around us. Each had been hacked by a sword, none were moving. 

Seeing the creatures closer up, I recognized the short soft grey-brown fur and the shape of its head. Mostly I recognized the large venom sacks under its neck. “Grant? How did you take out three adlats?” 

Adlats are some of the most dangerous cryptid creatures on earth. They lure people in with their song and then pump them full of venom that both paralyses and heals. They slowly eat a person’s quintessence, their soul, and drain their blood. The older the adlat, the longer they can feed on one person.  

“I put in my earbuds the moment I heard the howl and blasted The Kings of Rock. I tried to stop you from running off that cliff but you fell, and wow were you broken. Like, your legs were both bent the wrong way and I saw you wheezing really bad. Then one of those things bit you, and your legs popped back into place like an inflatable mattress but, like, gross.”

“Gross,” Ursula repeated in a flat voice. “Stick to drawing because your descriptions are terrible.”

Robin gave a little shriek from the other side of the cave and my heart sank until she said, “I’m fine, but I think we’ve found our killers. There are two more bodies back here that are desiccated like the man in the morgue.”

 “Can we sound off?” I asked and each person said their name and that they were unhurt, except for Sylvie. “Sylvie? If you’re dead, I’m going to bring you back and kill you.” I was hoping that if she were unconscious, my voice would wake her. I repeated the same thing in mindspeak in case she was out of earshot.

“Can he do that?” asked Grant with fear in his voice.

Once again deadpan, Ursula answered, “Probably not.”

I got up and gave him a stern look. I reached into my pocket for my phone and found it in pieces. I needed light and summoned my sword. It glowed softly and with a thought I turned up the light. The cave was illuminated, showing me my team, two desiccated corpses, dirt, the hacked remains of the adlats, and lots of blood.

“What happened?” I asked Robin.

“We were searching the woods when we heard a roar behind us, and then there was this beautiful music. That’s all I remember.”

“No idea what happened to Sylvie?” I asked.

Clifford said, “No,” and then suggested, “What about the tracking spell?”

I shook my head and said, “I didn’t make a packet for her.” We each had a bag with hair from the others. It allowed us to use a tracking spell if one of us goes missing. In general, Gatekeepers don’t have magic like a wizard but we can use some minor ritual based magic.

“She’s your cousin. You share blood. Assuming she’s physically closer than any other relative you should be able to find her,” he explained.  

It was worth a shot. I took my sword and pricked my index finger. Rubbing the blood on my sword, I said the words, “Let me protect my chosen family, let me have the strength to save them, and let me find the one who was lost.” The words weren’t necessary, only the intent, but they didn’t hurt.

The sword swung me around in a full turn and then pointed firmly toward where we had seen the building called “Luc’s House of the Rising Sun.” I was fairly certain that Luc was short for Lucifer and that whatever we were walking into was going to suck.

“Everyone clean yourselves off and let’s get out of here. We’re going to get my cousin and meet the Devil.” I wasn’t a religious man and I didn’t believe in the Devil, but enough people did that an Aetherborn version could be just as bad.

Read Chapter 5

While you wait for the next chapter, check out the previous serial stories:

The Scarlet Thread Irregulars (Serial Story) — Chapter 3

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Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12

Chapter 3: My team finishes their pie and wanders the woods.

Wednesday the 11th of October, 2006 – Shields Crossing, Ontario

“Must have been a French Roast,” deadpanned Ursula, her deep voice never betraying the laughter I saw in her eyes.

Sylvie pulled the sword out of the puddle and asked, “Does this mean I’m King of England now?”

Clifford immediately quoted Monty Python, “‘Listen. Strange women lying in ponds distributing swords is no basis for a system of government.’”

“They based that on us and no, you’re not a king. You’re now a Gatekeeper, a balancing force of the world. We keep magic from going wild and when it does, we clean it up. We are the Knights of the Aether,” I said, trying to make her understand that this was serious.

Sylvie raised an eyebrow and asked, “Do I have to take a vow of celibacy?”

“No?” I replied, not understanding why she was asking.

“Oh. So that’s just a you thing, not a Gatekeeper thing. Great.” She smiled mischievously at me. She always liked to tease me. This was going to be a long mission.

Coming to my defence, Ursula said, “He has Annabel.”

Eyes wide, Sylvie said, “Al, dish. Who’s Annabel?”

“You received a sword during a quest, not after it. That means you need to see it through to gain your full knighthood.” I changed the subject.

She put her free hand on her hip and said, “This talk isn’t over. How come none of you have your swords?”

I held out my hand and willed my sword into it. “You can summon your sword and dismiss it with your will. It can take months of training and even then, some have issues with it.” As I let my sword disappear, I tried really hard not to glance at Clifford. He had the hardest time learning to call his sword. We’d been working on it.

Sylvie took a deep breath and closed her eyes for a moment and her sword vanished.

“Wow,” Clifford said, looking a little sad.

“I’m a cop in Westmeath. I’ve seen shit,” Sylvie said, sounding way too cool. 

I scoffed and added, “She was in the military, Elmsley special forces, before quitting and joining the police force. She’s been trained to resist magic in multiple ways. It makes sense that her training would come in handy.”

“Actually, my Ronnie’s been training me to use magic items for defence,” Sylvie said, grinning as she mentioned her fiancée.

Looking really uncomfortable, Granny Pie asked, “Can I clean this up or is it religiously important?”

“No ma’am, it’s not holy and l can clean it up for you,” I said and she looked relieved. 

I retrieved the mop and bucket from the shop’s storage closet and I started to mop up the coffee while Pie explained, “There’s been some strange things going on around here.” She leaned in and whispered, “Magical.” When no one looked surprised, she continued, “Normally, the Aether here is really thick, but it’s been thinning, and I can’t figure out why. Things have been bleeding through. Nothing sapient or dangerous, but with Halloween around the corner, I’m not sure that will last.”   

“I guess we need to go check out the beach and see if there’s anything there,” Sylvie suggested.

At this point I was feeling old jealousies. She was only a few years older than me and lived in different parts of Ontario but I’d always been envious of her. She was better than me at everything, and I mean everything. I fought down the feeling and agreed. 

We finished our coffees, paid, and thanked Pie for help. Shield’s Crossing was a small town, but it was long, squished between Highway 17 and Muskrat Lake. 

We took the Volkswagen van. It was harder to drive than a minivan but easier to repair, as long as you could find the parts. It also allowed for more passengers. I guess we’re just a group of hippy knights. Who am I kidding? We were nerds at best.

We parked in the rowing club’s lot and walked to where the body had been found. Faught Beach was less of a beach and more of an opening in the woods that connected to the lake. No one with any sense would swim there. 

We looked around and found nothing useful. 

“I’m sure he died on the other side,” Robin said.

I looked up at the sky and then at my watch, “Let’s get going. We only have three hours before sunset, and we’re not ready to do a forest search in the dark.”

Sylvie looked confused and suggested, “We can get gear in town.”

I shook my head, “I’m not taking four inexperienced and one untrained knight into the wilderness in the dark.” I’d seen enough weird stuff in the cities. The woods brought out humanity’s weirdest fears and I wasn’t about to be killed by a yeti or killer duck.

The entirety of the other side of Muskrat Lake was thick forest. There were some homes on the shore but they were sparse. The roads were terrible but we made it to a lookout area with two hours to spare.

“We should split up to cover more ground,” Sylvie suggested. 

“Never split the party,” Grant said quickly.

Rolling her eyes, Sylvie said, “That’s only in Dungeons and Dragons. In real life, time is more important. Take these.” She passed out black metal rings.

The ring felt warm and I could feel it was charged with magic. There was the symbol of a tree with a maple leaf on the trunk, the logo of Yggdrasil. “What are these?” I asked.

“Coms. They work like mindspeak but they’re completely secure.” When the others gave her a blank look, she added, “It’ll let us talk mind to mind.”

“Okay fine, we split into two groups,” I started. “Sylvie, take Clifford and Robin, and search south. I’ll take Grant and Ursula and go north. We meet back here in an hour and a half.”

“Yes sir,” said my knights and Sylvie gave me a half-hearted salute.

Searching the woods isn’t the most exciting thing to do. We saw several rabbits, a lot of squirrels, a coyote, and more crows than I’d expected. We also met every damned mosquito in the area. Damn the warm fall. It was normally close to freezing at this time of year, but it had been in the low teens the whole time we’d been here.

As we walked it got hotter until I was considering taking off my leather coat. “Something’s wrong,” I said at the same time I heard a scream in my head.

I was about to turn and run to help my friends when the trees parted and a large three-storey antebellum style mansion appeared. The heat was coming off of it, and there was a large sign in the front that read, “Luc’s House of the Rising Sun.”

Read Chapter 4

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The Scarlet Thread Irregulars (Serial Story) — Chapter 2

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Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12

Chapter 2: My team starts to investigate, has pie, and gains a new member

Wednesday the 11th of October, 2006 – Shields Crossing, Ontario

“More vampires?” I asked.

“Impossible,” squeaked Robin as she twirled her black curls. “We’re right in a thick part of the Aether. I can feel it. Nothing is coming through here without a Fay or Wizard involved.”

We were alone in the small town’s coroner’s office, if you didn’t count the corpse. It was a strange case. An old friend had sent me reports of three deaths in the past few months.

“You’re probably right. I don’t remember any vampires that drained someone of all fluids,” I conceded.

Smiling, Robin bounced as she said, “There was an X-Files episode… or was it Buffy?”

“I’m sure there was, but unless the killer was cute, we have nothing to worry about,” I said confidently.

“Oh, um, well, the Buffy one was a hot teen Inca mummy.”

I sighed. “Let’s figure out where the bodies were found before we start interrogating the local teens. Actually, let’s leave the teens out of it completely.” I shuddered. My teen years were spent studying or hanging out with my small group of friends. The rest of the time, the other teens hadn’t seemed to appreciate my nerdyness. I did have a teaching degree, but I was hoping to teach middle grade, where they still had a sense of wonder.

“Are there any puncture wounds?” she asked.

I shrugged. “The coroner’s report is right there and so is the body, you’re the one with a medical background,” I said it as calmly and as matter of fact as I could.

“Yeah, I flunked out of medical school when I got my sword.” She’d been on a date with her fiancé and he’d pushed her in the way of a giant carnivorous plant. Thankfully, the fountain next to her produced her sword.

“Hey, I can go get Grant if you’d prefer not to do this,” I said, goading her. If I was going to get someone else, I’d have to bribe the coroner.

Angrily, she replied, “He knows nothing about anatomy that he didn’t learn from comic books. We both know how realistic those are.” She didn’t let me reply. She just dove into the files and then examined the body.

After almost an hour, she said, “He was found on Faught beach in the northern part of town. I’m guessing he floated over from the other side. People would notice a dead body on the south side of the lake. He has two healed bite marks in his back. The coroner said the desiccation and water damage made it impossible to tell how old the wounds were.”

There was soft clapping that came from the doorway and I jumped a bit. Robin gave a squeaky scream. The woman at the doorway was tall and muscled, and she had her unruly red hair tied in a high ponytail. She smiled and said, “Hey Al, great-uncle sent me to liaise with you and your team.”

I walked over and gave her a big hug. Seeing Robin’s confusion, I said, “Gatekeeper Robin Beckett, this is detective Sylvie Therien, my cousin.” I turned to Sylvie and asked, “Isn’t this a little out of your jurisdiction?”

“Nope,” she pulled out an RCMP badge and said, “Inspector Sylvie Therien with Yggdrasil Command.” 

“Since when has the RCMP been involved with Yggdrasil Command?” I was confused. As far as I knew it was a military organization.

“Four months ago when the higher ups thought they needed more breadth of help. They even have civilian agents now.” She seemed pleased.

Robin gave Sylvie hero-worship puppy-dog eyes as she asked, “Does this case have to do with aliens?”

Sylvie gave the younger girl a crooked smile and asked, “Why would you think that?”

“An inspector with the RCMP shows up at a weird case and talks about being part of a mysterious organization. It’s just like Stargate or the X-Files.”

Nodding sagely but obviously trying not to laugh, Sylvie said, “I can’t comment on aliens but I’m here to help you investigate.”

“Let’s get out of the morgue and go talk to my contact,” I said. “Who wants pie? I’m buying.”

We left and walked down the small town’s main street. The only way to describe the town was picturesque. It was like something from a kid’s Halloween movie, pumpkins and decorations everywhere, lots of trees threatening to change colours, and big banners announcing the next festival. 

Shields Crossing was a town that embraced tourism in the way a dog in heat embraced everything; desperately and without any sense of shame. That meant festivals, activities, and lots of artisanal or quaint shops. My personal favourite was Pie’s Shop, a place that made the best pies in the world. 

The rest of the team was already in the store when we got there. There were four little tables and we were taking up two of them.

“Oh, Albert dear, could you give me a hand back here?” asked Piper, or Pie as they called her. She looked like she was in her eighties, moved like she was in her thirties, and talked like she’d been around forever. She was the picture of a perfect grannie. I was fairly certain she was a magic user.

I went to the back and she gestured at two large bags of flour that were blocking the back exit. I picked them both up, wanting to show off, and put them in the small pantry.

She smiled.

In the front, there was a small window between the shop and its neighbour, a small coffee place. I went to the window and ordered everyone a coffee.

When we were all sitting, Pie brought us all slices of pie. No one had ordered, but she still knew everyone’s favourite. Like I said, I think she’s a magic user.

Robin had just gotten the rest of the group up to speed when Grant gestured a little too wildly, knocking Sylvie’s coffee over.

From the puddle of coffee came a French-style epée. Sylvie looked at me confused, and I just sighed. “Welcome to the team, cuz.”

Her only reply was to swear and say, “My fiancé is going to kill me.”

Read Chapter 3

While you wait for the next chapter, check out the previous serial stories:

The Scarlet Thread Irregulars (Serial Story) — Chapter 1

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Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12

Chapter 1: My team saves the day despite themselves

Tuesday the 10th of October, 2006 – Sudbury, Ontario

“What the hell is that?” Grant screamed at me. His long brown hair was in a low ponytail and his normally round pink face was white in terror.

“That is a vampire. Specifically, it’s a Blood Vampire,” I, Albert, said, grabbing the Dracula wannabe by his collar before shouting, “Ga Bort!” 

As soon as I spoke, the thing imploded with a sucking sound, leaving a little ectoplasm, or Aethergoo, behind. 

I’m only in my mid twenties and have been told I look like a gangly librarian or English teacher. I’m also the only one in the group with a military background.

“This nest must be freshly from the Aether,” Clifford said with a sigh of relief. He was the oldest of the group and the one most in shape. He looked more like an action hero than a mid-forties architect. 

The perfectly put together Ursula asked, “Are these the sparkly kind or the classic?” Her perfectly fitted suit and dyed blonde hair would be normal in a country club but in an abandoned factory in Sudbury, she looked out of place. 

“Please don’t be the sparkly ones. I feel bad for returning those to the Aether,” Robin said, her black curly hair bouncing in time with her movements. She was the youngest, beating Grant by a few months. 

They were joking. If the vampires were anything but blood-thirsty animals, they’d be considered Aetherborn and we wouldn’t be sending them back to the Aether. Sapient blood vampires were becoming more and more common with their portrayal going from monster to romantic lead. Sapience was really the only difference between Aether-creatures and Aetherborn.

Had they been Aetherborn, we would have helped them transition to our world. There were several separate communities of vampires, mostly in the far north to take advantage of the long nights.

These were not sapient, and we didn’t get time to quip further as a dozen more vampires ran at us. Each of us activated the magic necklace we wore and were suddenly armoured in matching plate mail suits.

The five of us are Gatekeepers. We take care of the barrier between our world and pure magic. We strengthen it, we deal with anything that comes out of it, and we stop people from flooding our world with magic. 

That last one sounds like fun until you understand that magic, or Aether, only wants to devour, and when it comes close to a human it transforms into whatever the human was thinking about. Let me tell you, we humans are great at thinking about two things: sex and fear. Sometimes at the same time. Hence the lengthy list of vampire types.

Each of the Guardians is chosen, we don’t know by who, and then have to seek out the order and find a mentor. We usually train in pairs but we were special. Mostly that we were the most accident-prone knights in the history of the order.

Not me, I was the poor schmuck that was supposed to teach them how to survive while doing the whole knight errant thing. The other four had been called to duty in the past year. They’d done training and were now getting extra training so they wouldn’t die.

There were less than a thousand of us in North America and I was hoping that number wouldn’t get any lower.

A Gatekeeper knight is chosen when they do something heroic or selfless. When that happens, a magic sword appears in the closest body of water. Mine was a lake not far from where we were fighting the vampires, Robin’s was a fountain, Ursula and Clifford’s were swimming pools, and poor Grant’s was a urinal. 

The moment you take the sword, you know to find a senior knight to train you. After six months of training, you are supposed to travel the continent to help people. If you survive that, you are given an assignment. Mine was to take care of these four.

Somehow Grant had managed to get his sword stuck in Clifford’s armour, Robin dropped her sword, and Ursula was trying to slap the vampires without pulling out her sword.

“Guys. Remember your training. Use your dismissal word,” I said, trying not to sound annoyed. I held my sword high in the air and poured my will into the sword as I screamed again, “Ga Bort!” It’s bad Swedish for, “go away”. 

My sword glowed with barrier energy and I started to slice through the vampires. When we get rid of an Aether-creature, its magical energy is sent to re-enforce the barrier.

The great thing about fresh Aether-creatures is that they haven’t the time to create any bodily fluids yet. Other than a few, which left some blood behind, they would just disappear with a pop. They were so fresh that they didn’t leave much Aethergoo either.

Once my team powered their swords, we cut through the vampires quickly, only hitting each other a few times. Thank goodness for armour.

When the vampires stopped coming at us we explored what little was left of the warehouse. We found what I was expecting: a young child hiding in a corner. They were maybe five years old and had their eyes closed while they rocked back and forth. 

“Jo. My name is Albert. Your parents are worried about you.” I gestured for the other knights to spread out and stay back. They didn’t understand.

“But the vampires are coming,” the child said in a whimper. With his words, vampires appeared around us. 

“We’re here to stop them and protect you,” I said. They opened their eyes. I had hoped they’d see me in all my glory and feel better. What they saw was my co-knights being caught off guard and falling all over the place like circus clowns. The kid started to laugh and the vampires popped out of existence. 

I picked up the kid and they sighed, curling into my arms. 

What my team lacked in combat, or coordination, they more than made up in their ability to shore up the barrier. They worked quickly together, and used their natural abilities to thicken the barrier so no one else would accidentally summon a monster.

For a regular human, to pierce the barrier and pull something out needs great fear or desire combined with a strong imagination. When the barrier is thinner, it means more accidental Aether-creatures.

Jo must have expended a lot of energy, because they stayed asleep the entire ride home and even transferred to their mother without a fuss. Back at the minivan, I said to the group, “We didn’t die, and we saved the kid. Good job. We’ll start more intense combat training in the morning.” I was still amazed that no one was hurt.

Read Chapter 2

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