Chapter 1 #2
The final group, the one her family claimed affiliation, were commonly called witches because they could sense the Nexus energy and feel the ebb and flow of it through the seasonal cycle.
This sensitivity allowed witches to track disturbances in the energy fields.
Some even had the ability to manipulate it and used this talent to create astounding artifacts imbued with Nexus energy.
These artifacts combined with the ability to track gave them an advantage for hunting monsters.
An occasional new variety of monster appeared, as nature loved nothing more than a novel mutation, but the majority fell into the expected three categories.
Nina had a natural advantage of being a witch but a natural advantage did not equal talent or skill.
Unfortunately.
She started with the steady rhythm of the rain. The sound of it as it fell on cloth, on the earth and metal roofs. Then the noise of water impacting water, a gentle patter, expanding to the rush of the river. Swollen with winter melt and spring rains, the normally lazy river was energetic.
Beyond that… buzzing, like insects on a warm summer’s day but also not. Her skin positively itched with awareness but there was nothing tangible. It was an ineffable buzzing.
It was most vexing.
“Stop. You’re thinking too hard,” Lucas said.
Nina tossed her hands up in frustration, tired of the cold and the rain. “Pray tell, how am I thinking too hard?”
“You get a line here .” Lucas pressed his index finger between her brows. “Relax. Be outside yourself. Cease being in your own way.”
“Your unhelpfulness is astounding,” Nina grumbled. Relaxing was difficult when Lucas and Pearson watched her.
“When your pa trained me up, he was equally opaque,” Lucas replied.
Be outside herself . How needlessly mysterious. It was enough to inspire apoplexy.
Nina took a calming breath and closed her eyes.
Rain. Ineffable buzzing.
Previous generations of family hunters left their insight in journals, or grimoires.
Many volumes catalogued various monsters, their weaknesses and the most efficient means of extermination.
Some explored herbs and their various uses, particularly for warding off monsters.
A few early volumes included the experiments of artificers, their failed projects and successes.
One well-worn volume was dedicated to the vampire Draven.
That particular creature had haunted the edge of the known world for centuries.
Nowhere, not in a single volume or even a single page, did anyone explain how they sensed the Nexus or manipulated it. They just did.
It was exasperating.
Nina could only conclude that it was a concept so easily understood that it required no strenuous tutelage and, therefore, she was defective. Unable to sense anything beyond a buzzing, she simply lacked innate talent. No amount of practice would allow her to overcome this defect.
A finger poked her in the forehead again. “Still thinking.”
Nina swatted his hand away. She didn’t know how to be outside herself .
She knew how to study. How to research. She knew that sound was a wave, invisible to the eye but not to other senses.
It could be felt and observed, like rain rippling on water.
The drops created a ripple and spread and intersected, creating void spaces.
Nexus energy moved like water, surging and retreating, waves washing over existence.
And just like that, she understood.
Nina opened her eyes, grinning in triumph.
“I can hear you,” she said.
“Oh? And what do I sound like?”
“Nothing. Absolutely silent.” Nexus energy moved through everything.
Except a witch. They were a void, the Nexus energy moving around them like a rock in the river.
Taking that idea one step further, monsters absorbed that energy.
They weren’t necessarily loud but they did echo.
Amid the buzzing of the Nexus, it was easy for an echo to be overlooked.
Nina looked, and heard it.
“To the west,” she said with confidence.
Lucas returned her grin. “I knew you had it in you.”
“Yes, and I intend to fully explain the chain of logic that helped me decipher this puzzle.” She’d write her thought process down in her own grimoire and help some Navarre witch at some point in the future.
“Fascinating, but there’s nothing down this way,” Pearson interrupted. “The creature will be drawn to people. We should head back into the town center.”
Pearson had a point. There wasn’t much along the river beyond docked riverboats, warehouses, and a tavern. No residential buildings. The area emptied out when the sun went down. The tavern, The Muddy Mudfish, might harbor a few loyal patrons but most everyone would be home.
“Need I remind you that I am extending a professional courtesy to you, Captain?” Lucas said, his tone sharp. “If you continue to complain, I will send a bill to your commander.”
Pearson made an angry huffing noise. “I’ll return to the town center. You continue to scout along the river. I think we’ll find that arrangement agreeable.”
“Very agreeable.”
Nina waved cheerily to Pearson’s departing figure. “You can tell he’s not used to being told no. A hazard of being too pretty, I wager. No one has the heart to refuse him.”
Lucas grumbled an agreement. They continued past the empty warehouses, their windows dark. The street was wide here to allow for easy loading and unloading of goods. It was even paved with brick, for efficiency. Commerce refused to waste time dealing with the muck and the mud.
Eventually, the river curved away and the street narrowed, continuing on straight as an arrow.
Soon a tavern appeared, promising warmth, light, and whatever libations a tired dock worker might desire.
During a solstice or equinox, such establishments operated all night.
At sunset, the doors were locked and whoever remained inside was there until morning with people, food, drink, and entertainment.
Nina was a touch envious.
Lucas held up a hand, silently commanding her to stop. He cocked his head to one side, listening. Nina couldn’t hear much beyond the muffled noise emanating from the tavern.
The door swung open and a man stumbled out.
“You,” Lucas barked. The man jerked in surprise. “Get back inside.”
“I’m headed home,” the man said, swaying on his feet. “Swore I’d be home before dark.”
“Well, you’re too late for that. Go back inside and wait until dawn, like everyone else.”
“The time got away from me is all?—”
Lucas sighed, as if bone tired. He strode up the steps and turned the man until he faced the tavern door.
Light and noise spilled out when the door opened, like a portal to never-ending revelry.
Nina swore she could feel the warmth from the fireplace.
Lucas shoved the man inside and the portal closed, leaving her in the freezing rain.
Lucas stood in front of the door with his arms crossed, as if daring another person to try making a break for it.
“We’ve better things to do than to play nursemaid to this lot,” Nina said.
“We do.” He stepped away from the building, back into the dark and the rain. He scrubbed a face over his hand. “I lost the trail.”
“We’ll find him.”
Lucas shook his head. “I’ll check the back. You stay here. That door was meant to be locked but apparently The Muddy Mudfish considers that to be a suggestion. Make sure no one else tries to leave. Use your whistle if something happens,” he ordered, and disappeared between the buildings.
Nina waited, digging her hands into the folds of the cloak for warmth.
She would like to say she faithfully followed orders, but she was not the most patient of persons and she was cold.
It was easy to stay warm when in motion.
Waiting in the rain only made her acutely aware of the numbness in the tip of her nose.
She stomped her feet. Being in motion helped to keep her warm. Minutes passed. Lucas did not return. Another patron tried to leave the tavern. Nina stopped then with a fierce glare.
Then she heard it. Metal rubbish bins clattered behind the building.
“Sheriff?”
No reply. It could be a cat, or it could be Lucas being caught by surprise.
With a hand on her pistol, Nina went to investigate.
Anthony
This expedition was a waste. The entire scheme of having monsters in the ranks was shortsighted in his opinion.
Did he imagine that the vampire Draven excluded monsters from his army? No. There had been too many reports of beasts and other green-skinned oddities to ignore their existence. The top brass wanted a weapon, and they couldn’t see beyond the benefits of having a tame monster.
No monster was ever really tame.
Anthony pressed a hand to his chest, feeling the medallion underneath the layers of cloth. The emblems were a family tradition for luck and protection. His parents had given it to him when he was a child, and he had worn it every day since.
It was a touch eccentric as far as family traditions, but stories of the finfolk haunted the northern coast. They were greedy creatures, desiring gold above all, and used music to bewitch their victims. The stories never specified if the music was instrumental, like a mournful flute or haunting violin, or voice.
He supposed it made little difference. The finfolk would trick sailors into crashing their ships on the rocks and looting the wreckage.
They took survivors with them to live under the water, stealing brides and grooms and condemning them to a watery grave.
At least, he had always assumed it would be a short time spent underwater before they abducted people drowned.
The stories did not specify. That was the thing about folklore, it left gaps in the stories.
The audience filled in the gaps with what seemed reasonable to them, making the legends feel true.