Merlin's Mantle, page 2
Then I saw it.
Bodies. Broken, bloodied corpses littering the scenes.
Bile rose in my throat. What horrors was he witnessing in his mind’s eye? My instinct as a father was to tear the parchment away, to shelter him if I could. But I couldn’t rip the visions from his mind. I was powerless to stop it.
I watched from over his shoulder as my boy continued to add grim details to his sketches. Emilie hovered at my side, tension radiating from her slight frame.
The creatures Merlin drew were not all the same. Their forms shifted subtly in each scene—wispy, smoky, undulating shadows. But the malice was a constant. Oozing menace dripped from Merlin’s frantic sketches.
One showed the thing emerging from a sewer grate downtown. Another had it slithering out from an abandoned warehouse. The corpses were different too—an old homeless man splayed on some steps, a jogger crumpled in an alley.
“Are these visions of the future?” Emilie whispered. “Or have these attacks already happened?”
I scanned the images. The locations were too ordinary to place. But the bodies… a chill crept down my spine. They had a horrible realness to them.
“I don’t know…” Dread gnawed at my gut. “But I think we need to find out.”
I squeezed Emilie’s hand, then pulled out my phone. Time to scan the local reports. Bodies don’t turn up in a condition like that in a public space and get ignored. I wanted to see if Merlin’s drawings matched any recent reports.
Emilie hovered anxiously as I scrolled through the local news sites and police reports. It didn’t take long to find what I dreaded—a string of unexplained deaths over the past week.
The first was a homeless man, throat torn out, found near the bus terminal downtown. Just like Merlin’s drawing with the sewer grate. Next, a jogger in Riverside Park, mauled beyond recognition. Her mangled body matched the crumpled figure in the alley sketch perfectly.
One after another, each attack corresponded to a scene from Merlin’s visions. I pointed them out to Emilie, whose eyes widened in dismay.
“Why?” she whispered. “What’s the rhyme or reason? Why kill people at random and then come after Merlin? We’re a couple of hours away from any of these killings.”
I shook my head grimly. “This is no coincidence. The victims were chosen for a reason. Someone… or something… is behind this.”
Emilie shivered, arms wrapped around herself. Then her gaze hardened with determination. “We have to find who. And we have to stop them.”
I nodded. The attacks circled the park, centered on the oak.
The attack outside our home was the outlier. And if I hadn’t been there…
Our only lead was the tree at Forest Park. Somehow, these creatures had emerged from the portal there. If we were going to discover the truth, that’s where we had to begin.
I grabbed my coat and turned to Emilie. “Let’s go. We’re heading to the park.”
Emilie quickly gathered her things, her brow furrowed in thought. “If the attacks all surround your tree, do you think the gateway has been corrupted somehow? Could something from… elsewhere… be coming through?”
I ushered her out to the truck, my mind racing. “It’s possible. The alignments between worlds shift. Nothing I know of in Annwn could do this.”
Emilie shivered again as she climbed into the passenger seat. Her fingers worried at a loose thread on her shirt, betraying her nerves.
I pressed harder on the gas pedal, gravel spraying from my tires as I weaved through the remote roads surrounding the shire. We’d get answers, one way or another. The sacred oak guarded its secrets, but it would surrender them to me.
3. Poop Emoji
The highway stretched before us like a river of asphalt, the dotted lines an endless current pulling us forward. Merlin’s voice drifted up from the backseat, his curiosity unfettered by the gravity of our quest.
“Are we there yet?”
I chuckled despite myself. “Not yet, buddy. Still more than an hour to go.”
My fingers closed around the sigil stone in the cupholder, tracing the three rays embossed into the amber surface. It was smooth and cool, yet seemed to thrum with an energy all its own—my last lingering connection to Dad. My parents died before I’d even reached puberty. It felt like yesterday. I didn’t believe it when they told me. Even now, there were times when I half expected them to come waltzing through the door. The stone contained my father’s memories, an emanation of who he used to be. It wasn’t really him, not his true spirit—but all his knowledge and wisdom was there. All I had to do to access it was channel a little magic into the stone. I’d black out if I did it. I couldn’t do it while I was driving. But just having it there, touching the amber sigil, dulled my anxiety.
“You okay?” Emilie asked, nodding to the stone. Her violin lay across her lap, polished wood glowing in the sunlight.
“Just thinking about Dad,” I said.
Emilie gave my hand a gentle squeeze. “We’ll figure this out, like we always do.”
“I don’t know. People are dying, Em. Dying because of some shadow monster we know nothing about.” I kept my voice low so Merlin wouldn’t overhear. “And we’re the only ones equipped to handle this. The cops won’t have a clue about what they’re really dealing with. It’s our responsibility.”
I nodded, keeping my eyes on the road. Emilie was right - we’d get through this together, like we always did. Still, the weight of responsibility sat heavy on my shoulders.
From the backseat, Merlin piped up. “I spy with my little eye something green!”
Despite the circumstances, I couldn’t help but smile. Leave it to Merlin to lighten the mood.
Emilie grinned, joining in on the game. “Is it a tree?”
“Nope!” Merlin said.
“How about that sign back there?” I asked.
“No, you’ll never guess it,” Merlin said slyly.
“Oh yeah? I bet it’s the grass,” I said.
Merlin laughed. “Be more specific! Which blade?”
I shook my head, chuckling. “Buddy, we’re driving. There’s no way I can see a single blade.”
“It was one we passed a while ago,” Merlin said. “So I win!”
Emilie and I shared an amused look. Leave it to a ten-year-old to rig the rules of his own game to make it impossible to lose. The levity was welcome. Just like that, the darkness lifted, if only for a moment.
Finally, the Gateway Arch and the towering skyscrapers of St. Louis’ skyline came into view, signaling our arrival. The city buzzed with life as cars honked and people bustled along the sidewalks. We weaved through the labyrinth of streets until we reached Forest Park, a sprawling oasis on the west side of the city.
I parked the truck in a shaded spot near a row of towering oak trees. The three of us stepped out, stretching our legs after the long drive. The air was thick with humidity and the scent of freshly cut grass mingled with the distant smell of fried food from a nearby fair. Children’s laughter filled the air as they played on swings and slides at a playground on the periphery of the park. It all seemed so normal, so mundane.
But there was something in the air. Something I didn’t like. It wasn’t quite palpable—but it was there. As we made our way across the running trails toward the oak I’d planted a decade before, a nausea settled into my gut. Merlin reached for my hand.
“Is something wrong, Dad?” Merlin asked, concern etched on his boyish face. “You look like you’re gonna puke.”
I gave him a reassuring smile, trying to mask the unease that had settled within me. “Just a little queasy from the long drive, buddy. Don’t worry about it.”
Even as I said it, though, it felt like a lie. I wasn’t usually prone to carsickness. The discomfort was so subtle, though, that I didn’t want to jump to conclusions. But my instinct told me the tree and the dark magic behind the shadow monster had something to do with it.
Merlin’s grip tightened around my hand, as if he could sense the underlying tension. “I don’t feel so good either,” he admitted, his voice barely a whisper. “My head. It hurts a little.”
Emilie’s brow furrowed with worry as she glanced between us. “I feel fine. I’m usually the one susceptible to motion sickness. If this has something to do with the tree…”
Nodding, I made a quick decision. “Em, stay back with Merlin. I’ll check out the tree myself. It might be dangerous.”
I could see in Emilie’s face that she wanted to protest, but her sigh revealed she knew it was the right thing to do. It was one thing for me to risk myself—but we couldn’t put our son in danger. If this strange sickness had anything to do with the tree, the closer we got, the worse it would affect us.
“Remember our emojis,” Emilie said. We’d had a system, like a little person code, to send each other whenever we were separated. We’d developed the system years ago. Just in case we were in a pinch and needed to let the other person know but weren’t in a position to type out a detailed message. While it had been a long time since we’d dealt with any direct threats, when you know about all the supernatural nasties out there that could do you harm, it’s good to have a system in place. “The poop emoji if shit’s hitting the fan, but not yet an emergency. It means you’re in a squeeze, but to stay put for now. The skull emoji if it’s a life and death situation. Send that one and I’ll be back in a second.”
Emilie nodded. “And a heart if all is well and back to normal.”
“And the eggplant if I’m feeling frisky. I remember.”
Emilie smirked. “Just make sure you have vibrate turned on in case you don’t hear the alert.”
I knew all the protocol. But it didn’t hurt to remind me five or twenty times about anything important. If Emilie ever told me she needed something, I had a tendency to only remember the last couple of things she mentioned. It was pretty bad when I was going to the store. If she didn’t remind me, or send me with a list, I’d inevitably forget something.
When we were back at the shire, it was a big deal. Because the closest grocery store was an hour away.
Forgetting to have my notifications turned on my phone to receive her alert would be a classic Elijah mistake. So, I double checked my phone settings, and sure enough, vibrate was off. “Fixed.”
“Good thing you checked.” Emilie winked at me.
I nodded and returned my phone to my front pocket. “If you feel so much as the slightest threat out here…”
“Poop emoji it is. The skull if the threat is imminent.”
I kissed Emilie on the forehead and squeezed Merlin’s hand before setting off toward the oak tree alone.
Taking a deep breath, I continued down the trail. We were still maybe a quarter mile away from the tree, but every step was heavier than the last. I retrieved my phone and sent Emilie three eggplants. Just for fun.
She replied with an eye-roll emoji.
I continued down the path. With each stride, the twisting in my stomach intensified, and my head throbbed with a dull ache. It was like walking into a wall of resistance, an invisible force that pushed against me, like trying to walk upstream against a river’s current.
As I continued on, several runners jogged past me, effortlessly moving with no resistance at all. It was as if someone specifically wanted to keep me away from the gateway at the tree.
I gritted my teeth, fighting against the invisible barrier that seemed to grow stronger with each passing moment. Sweat dripped from my brow, mingling with the humidity in the air. People passed me by, their gazes shifting from curiosity to concern as they witnessed my struggle. They probably thought I was a real jackass, or on drugs. But it didn’t matter what they thought. Why worry about strangers’ opinions, anyway?
But then, as if in response to my defiance, the resistance vanished. It dissipated so quickly that I stumbled forward, almost falling on my face. A sense of relief flooded through me as I pressed on toward the tree. The throbbing in my head subsided, and the nausea in my gut gradually dissipated.
What the hell?
A sharp scream interrupted my momentary confusion.
My head snapped towards the general direction of the scream, and without a second thought, I took off running towards the sound. The urgency in that cry was undeniable, and my instincts kicked into overdrive.
As I sprinted through the dense foliage of the forest, leaves rustling beneath my feet, my mind raced with possibilities. Who could be in trouble? The timing of the magic resistance I felt dissipating and the scream couldn’t be a coincidence. This wasn’t a mugging. It couldn’t be a common accident. My mind went back to Merlin’s sketches, the grim murders he’d depicted in charcoal. If I encountered another shadow monster, I knew how to take it down. I did it once before.
The only thing I knew for sure was that someone needed help. I fired off a quick “poop” emoji to Emilie. Just to let her know something was going down, but to remind her to stay squatting where she was.
The adrenaline flowed through my veins, fueling my steps as I pushed myself to go faster. Branches whipped against my arms, leaving angry red scratches in their wake. But I barely felt the pain. All that mattered was reaching whoever was in distress.
It was as if the woods were closing in around me. Not because of anything magical. I just wasn’t accustomed to running so hard, so fast.
A cramp had already set in under my ribs by the time I arrived on the scene.
I skidded to a halt, my eyes widening at the sight before me. In the middle of a small clearing, amidst the tall grass and wildflowers, sat a woman huddled on the ground. Tremors rocked her body, causing her to shake uncontrollably. Her face was buried in her arms, the rise and fall of her shoulders indicating the depth of her sobs.
Sirens wailed in the distance, their echoing cries mingling with the sounds of nature. It was clear that she had called for help—the phone beside her on the grass was open, connected to a 911 operator. The voice on the other end pleaded for her confirmation that she was still on the line, but she seemed oblivious to their words.
Cautiously, I approached her, my heart pounding in my chest. “Hey,” I called out gently, my voice barely above a whisper. “Are you okay?”
The woman looked up, her tear-streaked face revealing a mix of fear and desperation. She gasped for air, struggling to compose herself. “I’m here,” she said, her voice shaking. But I couldn’t be sure if she was responding to me or the 911 operator.
My eyes scanned the clearing, searching for the source of her terror. And then I saw it—an image that sent a chill down my spine. A mangled body hung from a gnarled tree branch, suspended by a black vine. Limbs torn from the torso lay scattered around the base of the tree. It was a gruesome sight, the stuff of nightmares.
I knelt down beside the woman, careful not to startle her further. “What happened?” I asked softly, my heart heavy with sorrow for both the victim and this woman who had witnessed such horror.
She took a deep breath, her voice trembling as she forced out a few words. “You wouldn’t believe me. I don’t know what I saw.”
“Do you know that person? The one who was attacked?”
The woman shook her head, tears streaming down her face. “No, I’ve never seen them before. I was just out for a walk… then I saw this… it happened so fast.”
She trailed off, unable to find the words to describe her terror.
“What’s your name?” I asked, hoping to establish some semblance of a connection. Forcing a small smile, I added, “I’m Elijah. I heard your screams and came to help.”
“Hello, ma’am?” The voice came from her phone. It was the 911 operator. “Are you alright, ma’am?”
“Yes, sorry. I’m still here.”
“Do you feel safe? Someone is with you?”
“A stranger. He seems nice. I think…”
“We should probably get you somewhere safe,” I added. “We need to get closer to the trail, around more people.”
“That’s what I’d advise as well,” the operator added. “I’ll be here until the police get there. They should be just a few minutes out.”
I pressed my lips together. I couldn’t exactly ask this woman—whoever she was—to hang up on 911. But whatever she saw, she wasn’t likely to tell me, if she ever would, if the operator was listening in.
When people see something supernatural, they tend toward denial. It’s a lot easier—as disconcerting as it sounds—for most people to think they’re losing their mind than come to grips with the truth of the supernatural world. Especially when they see something so terrifying. And if one of those shadow monsters was involved, it was unlikely she’d tell anyone. Unless someone could give her reason to believe she wasn’t crazy.
I hesitated a moment. Confirming the truth to this woman would have long-lasting effects. But I knew if I didn’t get an answer, somehow, I’d never convince her to talk later. Even if I figured out how to get in touch with the woman after the cops finished at the scene.
I still had one of Merlin’s drawings in my jacket pocket. I pulled it out and gestured toward it. I didn’t want to say anything out loud. I wasn’t sure what the 911 operator would think if we started talking about monsters. Anything we said would be recorded and likely examined by the police later.
I was also keenly aware of the fact that as the only other person on the scene if I said anything at all fishy I could quickly move from “witness” status to “suspect.”
The woman’s eyes widened. She gasped. Her hand instinctively went to her mouth. She looked at me with tear-filled eyes and nodded. That told me all I needed to know. She’d seen what I thought she saw.
But now we had no choice. She’d witnessed something horrible. The police were going to want to know what she saw; they’d want me to tell them how I came upon this woman after what happened and if I’d seen anything. Neither of us could tell the cops we’d seen a monster.
So I pulled out my phone and started to type out a message. I finished and showed her the screen.
