A Gathering of Crows (18 page)

“I don’t think that will be necessary,” Levi whispered. “It appears that they’ve found us instead.”

SEVEN

The crow cawed again. The sound echoed through the night, loud and obnoxious. Then the bird spread its massive wings and swooped toward them. Donny and Marsha stood transfixed, gaping as it approached. Levi stepped in front of them.

“Stay behind me.”

“It’s just a bird,” Donny said.

“No, it isn’t. This is something else.”

The crow landed in the yard and then seemed to blur. It grew, changing shape, transforming into a tall man. The entire process took only seconds. Behind him, Levi heard Donny and Marsha gasp. He knew how they felt. The transformation was simultaneously incredible and terrifying. He’d certainly never seen anything like it before, and he’d seen a lot in his travels. Encountering it like this left him momentarily stunned. He knew of therianthropy and zoanthropy, of course. They were two terms that described the same thing—the metamorphosis of human beings into animals, and vice versa. His library back home was full of examples, and although he had never witnessed it personally, Levi knew associates and peers who had, and he’d heard their stories. Werewolves were the most obvious example, but the phenomena extended far beyond mere lycanthropy. In many Native American, Chinese, West African, Central American and Pacific Island cultures, there were incidents of people turning into dogs, cats, bears, boars, owls, leopards, cheetahs, hyenas, lions, lizards and even sharks. Some scholars believed that this was where stories of centaurs and mermaids had originally come from, as well as human-animal hybrid deities like Ra and Anubis, but Levi knew better. Indeed, most of what passed for mankind’s collective knowledge regarding religion, the paranormal and their own human history was incorrect. Man’s understanding of shape shifting was no different.

“Holy shit,” Donny said.

Marsha whimpered in agreement.

The figure took form, rising to its full height. It was a man, dressed in black, archaic clothes that made Levi’s outfit seem positively risqué. Looking at the Puritan-style hat, cloak and garments, Levi was reminded of the “Terror of Salem”—the Reverend Cotton Mather, scientist, theologian and witch hunter. The man’s face seemed hidden in perpetual shadow. Only his cruel eyes and crueler mouth were clearly visible. The sight filled Levi with dread.

So fast,
Levi thought.
It changed so quickly . . . What am I facing here? What are these things, Lord?

Whatever its identity, this was no mere shape shifter. If a human being turned into a wolf or bird or anything else and then transformed back to their human form again, they’d have an aura. All living human beings had auras. Levi had been able to see auras since birth, and his father and grandfather had taught him how to read them when he was just a child. Just like snowflakes, no two auras were alike.

Their colors varied, encompassing the entire spectrum. A trained eye could tell if a person was healthy or sick, happy or sad, just by noting the color of their aura. Different colors meant different things. Levi learned a lot about the man standing before them by reading his aura. It was black, just like the shadows concealing his face and the strange garb covering his body. Human auras were never black. That meant the man was something else.

Something inhuman.

That alone didn’t frighten Levi. He’d dealt with more than his fair share of supernatural entities over the years. Indeed, just two years before, he’d defeated Nodens, most powerful of the Thirteen, and stopped the beings’ attempt to breach the walls of this Earth and drown it in eternal darkness, snuffing out all life. Their battle had started with a confrontation much like this. Levi had encountered a seemingly human woman whose aura was black. While investigating, Levi had soon learned that the woman was nothing more than an empty shell. Her husk had been commandeered by Nodens. She was transport. Nothing more.

The entity standing before him now was different. Levi probed silently, reaching out with his mind. Although the thing—because Levi could no longer think of it as a man—radiated evil and contempt, it wasn’t the encompassing, overwhelming nihilism projected by a deity like Nodens. This was a lesser adversary. An avatar, perhaps. A psychic projection. Maybe even a minor demon. But none of those would account for the level of chaos and destruction that had been visited upon Brinkley Springs. Such lesser supernatural beings would be incapable of such transgressions—at least, without being discovered. But then again, perhaps their actions had been discovered. Perhaps they had been noticed, and that was why he’d been placed here tonight.

“You stink of magic.” The thing’s voice was a raspy, grating whisper, as if its throat were filled with gravel or dirt.

“And you stink of blood and offal.”

“Indeed. And now I’ll add yours to the stench, little thing, as well as the blood and innards of those behind you.”

“You can try, but I warn you, these two are under my protection. You will fail.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. You are weak. You may know the art, but that will not save you.”

“That remains to be seen.” Levi struggled to keep his voice calm and his expression serene. “Tell me, whom do I have the honor of addressing?”

“So polite, you are. I’m impressed. Most of these creatures have simply run away from me, or screamed or tried in vain to fight back, but you seek dialogue. You, sir, are a gentleman. Since you asked politely, My name is Samuel.”

Levi paused. “Samuel?”

The creature laughed. “You pitiful bag of meat. Of course my name isn’t Samuel. Did you actually think I would give you my real name?”

“I suppose not, but it certainly never hurts to try.” Dispensing with the charade, Levi recited a passage from
The Long Lost Friend,
issuing a challenge of sorts. “Enoch and Elias, the two prophets, were never imprisoned, nor bound, nor beaten.”

“Is that a fact?”

Levi ignored the interruption. His voice rose to a shout as he continued. “Thus, no one of my enemies must be able to injure or attack me in my body or my life, in the name of God the Father—”

“Don’t you mean God the Destroyer?”

“—the Son, and the Holy Ghost.
Ut nemo in sense tentat, descendere nemo. At precedenti spectatur mantica tergo.
”

The challenge completed, Levi’s shoulders went slack. He stood, panting, covered with sweat, and waited for the adversary’s reaction. When the reply came, it wasn’t at all what Levi had expected.

“Are you quite finished, little magus?”

Levi’s stomach fluttered. He suddenly felt very cold. The creature wasn’t evil—at least, not in an earthly sense. He had faced evil countless times. He’d seen its effects, the damage it caused. He’d seen evil reflected in both human and inhuman beings. This creature, while certainly evil in both its intent and the acts it committed, wasn’t an agent of hell, nor had it been spawned in one of the nether regions. If it had originated in the Pit or been satanic in origin, it would have reacted strongly—perhaps violently— to his challenge. The fact that it had merely taunted him told Levi that this was something else, something beyond the Judeo-Christian pantheon or any other of the world’s major religions. This wasn’t just evil. This was something much worse. Levi knew of only one pantheon that fit that description: the Thirteen, a race of beings that were neither gods nor demons, but holdovers from a universe that had existed long before this one. They were the ultimate in antiquity, older than the stars. Concepts like good and evil were beneath them, inconsequential, as was human life.

Only one of the Thirteen would have reacted to Levi’s challenge as this being had. But that made no sense, either. Levi knew all of the Thirteen, and none of them matched this entity’s description. He quickly ticked them off in his mind. Ob, Ab and Api. Leviathan and Behemoth. Kandara. Meeble. Purturabo. Nodens. Shtar, Kat, Apu and—

Levi heard footsteps sweeping through the grass behind him as Donny and Marsha slowly backed away.

“Is there anything else you’d like to say?” The creature’s condescending tone dripped with impatience and boredom. “Anything at all that you’d like to add before I eviscerate you and decorate yon trees with your innards?”

“Actually, yes there is. Donny? Marsha?”

“Y-yeah?” Donny sounded as terrified as Levi felt.

“Run!”

The shadow surged forward, roaring. Marsha screamed. Levi took one step backward and then braced his feet, squaring off against the onrushing attacker. Meeting its furious stare, Levi kept his eyes wide. He did not blink. He did not dare. His heart pounded as he recited an enchantment to spellbind an enemy.

“Thou horseman and footman,” he cried, making a motion with both hands. “You are coming apart under your hat. You are scattered. With the blood of the five holy wounds, I bind thee. In the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Ghost, you are enchanted and bound.”

“No, little magus, I am not.”

Levi scampered backward, dismayed. In truth, he’d suspected the spell would be ineffectual against this enemy, but at the very least, it should have bought him some time. Even if only to flee. Like his challenge, the creature just ignored it.

Its terrible mouth curled into a garish smile. “Now it is my turn. Your soul will feed me well.”

“Levi!”

The shout came from behind him—Donny’s voice. What were they still doing here? He’d told them to run. Not wanting to risk taking his eyes off his opponent, Levi yelled, “Get out of here. Please, you don’t—”

The creature slashed at him with one hand, sprouting long, black talons from its fingertips as it struck. Levi grunted. The air rushed from his lungs as the sharp claws raked across his chest, shredding the fabric of his shirt. As they tore through his shirt pocket, one of the nails slid against Levi’s copy of
The Long Lost Friend.
There was a sharp, crackling sound, accompanied by a spark of blue-white light. The attacker yanked its hand away as if it had been shocked. Grinning, Levi breathed deep. The air smelled bitter and electric. He glanced down at his chest. The shirt was torn but his skin remained unbroken.

The shadow-man growled. “How?”

Still smiling, Levi patted his now-frayed pocket.

“Whoever carries this book with him is safe from all enemies, visible or invisible; and whoever has this book with him cannot die without the—”

The entity struck at him again, this time aiming its talons at Levi’s eyes. Levi side-stepped the charge and delivered an uppercut to the being’s abdomen. Pain raced up his arm, and his fist went numb. It was like punching a block of ice.

“C-cold . . .”

“Not nearly as cold as your corpse will be in death. And that is all that will exist of you—an empty husk of decaying flesh. And then, not even that. You will return to the dirt that spawned you. Your soul is mine to consume. You will not exist beyond this level.”

“Well, you’ll have to succeed in striking me first, and I don’t intend to let that happen.”

They stepped away from each other. Levi panted for breath. His adversary scowled, clearly unhappy with the stalemate.

“I order you to leave this place,” Levi said.

“You order me to do nothing, bearded one. My brothers and I will deal with you later. For now, I am content to turn my attention to your companions, instead.”

The thing rushed past Levi, unleashing a powerful swipe with its forearm. The blow didn’t connect, but Levi stumbled backward anyway, more from instinct than fear. The entity raced past him and charged toward Donny and Marsha, who were still standing at the edge of the yard, seemingly mesmerized by the battle.

Levi steadied himself and pointed his right index finger at the creature. Winded and half-nauseous from the adrenalin surging through his body, he took a deep breath and closed his eyes. His finger wavered in the air. His arm shook.

Marsha shrieked.

“Get the fuck back,” Donny shouted. “What are you doing? Get out of there.”

Levi opened his eyes again, and in a calm, clear voice, said, “
Hbbi Massa danti Lantien.
”

The entity slowed, as if running through wet cement. It glanced over his shoulder at Levi.

“What is this?”

“Me, going to work.” The trembling in Levi’s fingerbecame more pronounced.

Donny grabbed Marsha’s arm. “Come on. Let’s go while we can.”

“No.” She pulled away from him. “We’re not leaving anybody else. Not again.”

“Marsha—”

“I said no, goddamn it!”

The man in black turned back to them and slogged forward. It hunched over, grunting with effort, clearly exerting itself with each step.

Levi took another deep breath. With his finger still upraised, he exhaled.

“I, Levi Stoltzfus, son of Amos Stoltzfus, breathe upon you. Three drops of blood I take from you. The first from your heart. The second from your liver. The third from your vital powers. In this, I deprive you of your strength and vitality. Now crawl on the ground like the worm you are. You’ll raise no hand against us.”

The enemy collapsed on its belly, indignant with rage. It thrashed on the wet grass, but its movements were slow and lethargic.

“That will slow him down,” Levi yelled at Donny and Marsha, “but it won’t last long, and it cost me something. Go. Go now!”

“What about you?” Marsha asked.

“I’ll be fine. Like I said before, I’ve had experience in these matters.”

Donny grabbed Marsha’s arm again and pulled, leading her away. Levi saw them both glance over their shoulders as they cut across the neighboring backyard and disappeared into the darkness. Then he was alone with the thing.