The Keeper Ch. 28-31

Detached.

Remote.

Emotionless.

Centered.

He flicked his right wrist and the dragon that encircled his arm from palm to shoulder rippled under the skin and emerged and unwound.

The Dragon's Razor shrieked in joyous anticipation of feeding. The sentient weapon gifted him by the troll women had taken a hundred deaths to master. Seven years and seven days of lessons, fights, woundings -- and magical healings so he could do it again the next day. The Vísdómur taught at night and tested during the day. They believed that if a mistake during a fight weren't punished by wounding or death, the lesson wouldn't stick. He'd made a lot of mistakes.

He swung it side to side with measured, hypnotic metronomic beats. He knew precisely what had to be done. He'd fought the reaper-kind before.

The Reaper reached inside its cloak and filled its other hand with a white wand. Waved the wand back and forth and chanted.

Quinn's glyphs flared as the compulsion spell hit and rolled over him and dissipated.

Behind him, he heard/felt Anna fall.

The Reaper's eyes widened.

"Oh Assassin," Quinn sang in High Alfar. " I will hear your death song. When was the last time you had to fight instead of slaughter? The true death is coming for you."

Quinn could hear its heartbeat rising now. Panic was starting to blossom. Panic was a distraction.

He snapped his wrist--the dragon whip shrieked again as it lashed out to the reaper's face--its right eye disappeared in a mist of gore.

The roar of pain was deafening.

Quick as thought, it riposted the black falcata at Quinn's face.

And missed. The missing eye had damaged its depth perception.

Quinn snapped his wrist once more.

The Reaper's mouth gaped a silent scream of agony as the arm holding the sword dropped to the grass--its remaining eye now showing blossoming despair.

It scuttled backward pleading, "Mercy, Shadow Walker."

"No."

Quinn snapped his wrist one last time.

Sudden spray of dark green blood and the Reaper's head toppled to the grass.

Silence.

Quinn absently flicked his left wrist and the symbiote obediently wound itself back into its home.

His combat mode faded. His senses returned to normal; as always, he was left a bit bereft--everything seemed bland and colorless.

He took a deep breath and turned to Anna. She was stretched out on the ground, unconscious.

The Hag was gone.

Anna lay unconscious, but her pulse was strong and her color good. She appeared to be in a deep sleep, REM movement in her eyes and a soft snore.

"Wake up, Anna," Quinn gently slapped her face.

She stirred and sat up with a confused look on her face. He could see she was okay. He gave her a perfunctory pat and helped her up.

Her eyes widened as she looked over his shoulder.

Quinn turned.

The Vísdómur came silently out of the rift-warp, gathered up the reaper and its weapons, and retreated to Alfheim. The youngest sketched a salute and a smile.

A loud snap sounded as the air was sucked into space where to rift-warp had been.

Quinn frowned, then shrugged and walked to the barn to check it out.

He was still in a remote icy state, so the awfulness of what lay inside was merely data. A gaunt, frail elderly woman and a dog so old his muzzle was completely gray lay inside their throats cut. It looked like the old dog had done its best to save its master. A heavy smell of blood and the sweet smell of apricot lay over everything. He knelt and carefully re-arranged the old woman's dress and gave the old dog a soft stroke.

"Rest now you did your best."

He walked back outside to Anna's side.

"You okay," he asked Anna as he helped her to her feet.

She nodded. "I'm afraid I have some bad news," Quinn said. Your neighbor is inside her throat cut. We need to get your guardians out here."

She winced and walked over to the barn and stuck her head inside.

Quinn looked for the little girl and found her inside the corral petting the horse which stood in silent misery.

"She wants a drink of water," she told him.

There was a yard hydrant on one corner of the barn. Quinn grabbed a bucket, walked over to the hydrant and drew a bucket of water for the horse and lifted it, and put it inside the corral so she could get to it.

"Not too much," he said. "She'll get sick."

The little girl nodded silently and with two hands carried the bucket to the horse, who drank eagerly.

She walked back to Quinn and looked up at him with pleading eyes. "We have to help her. If you leave her here, she will die."

"We will, little one. You tend to your new friend. Anna and I have some things to do. Then we'll call a friend and she will send help. Everything will be okay. Don't worry."

Anna came back out, held her hand out for Quinn's phone. Silently, he handed it to her. She walked away with it to make her calls.

"Call Mandy to come for the horse," Quinn called after her. "I'm going to check out the house."

The house inside was spotless and empty except for one lonely kitchen chair and a neatly made bed in the back bedroom. The kitchen cabinets held a few plates and glasses."

And twelve cans of dog food.

"Oh, sweet Mother of All," Quinn whispered. "You poor lonely woman.

A blinding rage flared. He took a couple of deep breaths to calm himself and walked outside.

Fifteen minutes later Mandy showed up with a horse trailer hooked to the back of her pickup.

Quinn and Anna stood silently by as she and the girl gently led the gaunt horse onto the trailer. The little girl insisted on staying with Mandy and the horse. She offered a small wave to Quinn as they drove away.

Quinn looked at Anna and took a breath.

"We need to talk, Witch. No more secrets. How long have you and your sisters known about the hag?"

She sighed. "We're not certain when she turned. She's exceptionally good at keeping herself under the radar. Lately, though there have been more stories of animal mutilations popping up. She is no longer capable of controlling herself. Blood magic always spins out of control.

"Do you know who she is?"

"No, she's managed to cloak herself. Probably for years. She is extremely dangerous."

"Well, if what you say is true, she is far too gone to have dealt with the Drygioni Brotherhood. Someone is pulling her strings. I need to get down to Oldtown and talk to some people."

Anna gave him a troubled nod. "I must get to the hospital and see about Althea. She must be awakened."

Two white Tahoe pulled into the farmyard. Birdie Penrose and Tulli stepped out along with three others that Quinn didn't recognize.

"Perfect," Quinn said, "Just who I needed to chat with.

Okay, you two," Tulli snapped. "Why all the fuss? We came as soon as you called. It better be important. We have things going on."

"Check out the barn and we'll explain."

The two walked over and went inside and came out white-faced. Two of the younger witch-crafters came running out and vomited just outside the door.

"Blood magic," Birdie's face was strained and looked every day of her seventy-plus years.

Quinn let Anna explain what had happened.

"You killed a Reaper? That's impossible," Tulli said.

"Yet it happened," Anna snapped. "The Hag is far gone. I'm amazed she can function.

"Poor Edna, she never hurt a soul," Birdie said sorrowfully.

She looked at Quinn's face and stepped back in alarm.

"Come with me." He walked over to the house and ushered them in.

"What on earth..."

"Shut the fuck up and listen up you three," Quinn's green eyes had turned solid black, his words came out low and inhuman. "This poor woman was starving. She was buying dog food for herself and her dog. I'm certain in my head that Ms. Edna made damn sure the dog got fed before she did. As you can see, over the years, she sold off all her belongings probably to pay her bills and buy food. I would imagine that someone was supposed to pay her for boarding that horse."

"Listen, boy, you can't..." Birdie started to bluster.

Quinn interrupted.

"YOU WILL BE SILENT WITCH! I am not your boy. You all have power beyond any mundane understanding, but your Covens have been so busy infighting and bickering that they have ignored their responsibilities to protect and nurture folks in the community. How many more are there like poor Ms. Edna living around here--lonely, afraid, and without hope. I suspect you have no idea because you couldn't be bothered to look. YOU ARE NOT DOING YOUR FUCKING JOBS. Fix this or I will find someone to fix it for you and you won't like it."

At his tone, Anna, Bridie, and Tulli instantly said as one:

"As you wish, Keeper."

He motioned to Anna.

"Let's get going, I'll drop you off at the hospital."

It occurred to him, as they drove silently up to the hospital in Arlington, to wonder what deal was with the little girl. What was so special about his little friend that drove that crazy witch to go to such lengths to get her.

He had a strong suspicion that the key to all this lay in Oldtown. He needed to talk to Niamh.