Ghost Light

Jinx fired the crossbow, but the bolt sailed straight through the rotting flesh of her assailant.  The zombie kept coming.  The dead woman barreled into Jinx’s chest and knocked her flat on her butt.

Jinx landed with a strangled cry and I took a step toward her, prepared to lose ground if it meant saving my friend.  The corpse ignored Jinx, leapt past her into the circle, and joined hands with two small fae children.  The female zombie was no longer an immediate threat.

Jinx slung the crossbow back over her shoulder and stayed low, making herself a smaller target.  The crossbow wasn’t an effective weapon in this fight, so she started using her hands and feet.  Jinx kicked and punched at both the risen dead and the sea of rats.

The rats that got past her nipped at the children’s feet and ankles, drawing blood.  The children cried out, but continued to dance.  The sound of their cries rang out even in my earplug filled ears, making my stomach twist and churn.  I turned away from Jinx and the children and focused on my target.

The spell was working.  The Piper was feeding off the children’s life essence.  Even at this distance I could see signs of his returning youth.  The white streaks that had been in the faerie’s hair were gone and his face was filling in.

I had to get closer to The Piper and interrupt the spell before he sucked these children dry.  I would not let a selfish, demon flute wielding faerie steal away the lives of so many children and sentence their souls to Hell.

I choked back hot, angry tears as I sprinted around the circle.  My boots crunched and I tried not to think of the rats underfoot.  I kept my eyes on the objective.

A figure stumbled into my path and I batted away the rotting corpse with the flat of my blade.  The zombie lurched to the left and I jinked right, avoiding its grasping hands.  The thing was dressed in a threadbare suit that hung from its body in tatters and smelled almost as bad as Stinky the ghoul.  I breathed through my mouth and ran faster.

I was halfway around the circle when something moved in my peripheral vision.  I twisted my torso toward the movement, knife at the ready.  A pack of shadows, teeth, fur, and yellow eyes rushed low across the ground heading straight toward me.  When they came within throwing range, the shadows parted to my left and right, heading toward the circle.  The newcomers weren’t interested in me.  They were here to battle The Piper’s pet rats.

Our backup had arrived.

I stared, eyes wide, as more cat sidhe melted out of the fog.  The first wave of faerie cats, led by a cat with torn ears, placed themselves between the children and the attacking rats.  The second wave of cat sidhe flanked the rodents, darting in to snatch up the weakest rats in their teeth and claws.

Sir Torn and his army had come to battle their natural enemy, the horde of city sewer rats, and help rescue the fae children.  As I watched, one cat sidhe grabbed a rat by the neck and flung it away from the children while another began using its rear claws to disembowel a second rodent.  I had seen enough.

I looked away and continued sprinting toward The Piper.  I now had to skirt around the perimeter of the battle between the rats and cat sidhe.  This added precious time to my run, but there was nothing I could do other than push my legs to move faster.  I tightened my fingers around the knife in my hand and ran.

I leapt over an injured cat sidhe and landed on a patch of grass beside The Piper.  The music seemed louder here and I struggled to remain focused.  I scanned the area for any immediate threats, squinting through the growing fog.

Farther away, Ceff and Melusine fought their own game of cat and mouse.  Their movements were too fast to follow, but the route of their battle could be discerned by toppled gravestones and demolished mausoleums.  Ceff was drawing Melusine away from me and the children.

I wouldn’t let his efforts go to waste.  A haunting melody buffeted my mind, but I shook my head and turned my attention to The Piper.  The effects of the Danse Macabre were evident.  His face was once again youthful, a thing of fae perfection.

I fumbled with my phone and prepared to read the prayer that Father Michael had sent me.  I wasn’t wasting time on the English version.  It was time to get old school.

“Hey, douchebag!” I yelled.

The Piper opened his eyes and I gasped.  The faerie’s eyes glowed red—the eyes of a demon.  Perhaps the demon flute exacted its own price, opening a conduit to Hell and changing the user into one of Hell’s minions.  The force of those eyes bored into my skull and I cried out.  I needed to recite the prayer from Father Michael’s text message, but I felt the phone slip from my hand.