Atlanta's Guide to Cryptids: Book One of the DRC Files by Kevin A Davis

Author:Kevin A Davis [Davis, Kevin A]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9798988443841
Publisher: Inkd Publishing LLC
Published: 2023-08-17T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter

Ten

We’d have to figure out Blake’s gig while we looked at the revenant’s release with a fresh view.

The energy we’d burned up wore at me. “Well, I need to eat.” I flushed at my comment; we’d eventually get a chance.

The wind stirred leaves across the forest floor, promising a storm. Marie stood in front of the small shed, seemingly staring at it.

“Sorry, thinking with my stomach.” I gestured to David leading Blake ahead of us. “What do we do with him?”

“If he, a mundane, used rituals for a crime, he’ll be interviewed, warned, added to the database, and carefully given to the local enforcement. Regular monitoring will be scheduled.” Finn sighed. “Accessing Tarus would have been a completely different matter. There’s a special community for that.”

“Like a jail, or a 12-step program?” Opening Tarus left Earth open to some nasty entities.

Finn just chuckled. “Blake is up to something. Marie will want to know what before we leave.” He leaned down conspiratorially. “Then we’ll mutiny for lunch.”

I blushed, but hoped it was true.

Marie turned to study Blake, eyed us, and gestured toward the shed. “You two. Be careful.” She put her hand out for Blake’s backpack.

I passed off the bag, and as Finn tugged the realms for wards, I kept him shielded. An elaborate ward, a ritually drawn wheel of runes, covered the rotting floor. Triggered, it would bring down the shed. Mundanes could tie realm magic to objects, but they had to use specific symbolism. As a child, I’d learned about the realms using the same rudimentary symbols and words. This one required contact rather than proximity, or even my earlier shielding wouldn’t have stopped it from going off when we shattered the locking spell on the door.

Tugging at Dur-Alf, Finn easily disrupted the bindings and rendered it useless. He walked over it and stood at an altar tucked under a gray tarp. Fine dust from the blown door covered everything in the shed. “All clear.” As I entered, he lifted the plastic and exposed a chalice and athame, a wreath of dry holly, heavily used candles, laurel, a slate carved with runes into three staves, and a variety of other elements that would not connect with the Tarus realm. “Germanic, Scandinavian. His wards are Dur-Alf. That stave looks drawn for Mer.”

“Well, that’s a seer call,” I said. The runes were specific.

Finn frowned. “Are you sure?”

I’d been studying seers and all the lore connected with Mer for six years. “Yep.” My reasons were private, and I hoped he wouldn’t push the topic.

“So he was trying to see into the future?”

“Or the past, or divine truth.” I studied the altar. “I’m going to go with divination, though this isn’t a set up for that ritual. I’m basing it on elements.” I pointed to a number of items including the laurel and residue of wine in the chalice.

Blake’s shed otherwise held nothing notable, with most of the remnants of crates in the corners. A stool had dust from the door covering the top; otherwise, it looked newer than the rest of the shed, but well used.

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