Birthright - Book 2 of the Legacy Series (An Urban Fantasy Novel) (26 page)

“Erik, what are you going to do with th—”

Before he could finish his sentence I stabbed the nail into my palm. It tore through my flesh and an inch of rusty steel emerged from back of my hand.

Tenzin rushed over to me. “What are you doing?” he asked as he grasped my hand.

“It’s okay,” I reassured him. “Just pull it out.”

“Doesn’t it hurt?” he asked with genuine concern.

“I’m used to much worse.”

Tenzin pulled the nail free and tossed it behind him.

“Look.” I wiped blood away from my hand so that the hole was visible. Tenzin gasped softly as the wound healed itself in a matter of seconds. He prodded the newly sealed flesh tentatively.

“Good as new,” I said.

“Remarkable,” he whispered, and stared at the spot on my palm. He beckoned me back toward the fish. “You have a truly amazing gift, Erik.”

“Yeah, but I don’t see it that way,” I replied. “I can heal from almost anything. But I can’t use magic because of it.”

Tenzin’s eyes darkened. “So, I suspect this special blade of yours is the only way you can use magic? Is that why you were prepared to attack me to retrieve it?”

“Yes.” I hung my head slightly. “And sorry.”

Tenzin let out a chuckle. “No matter, my young friend, no matter. But I would still like to share a breakfast without weapons if it’s all the same to you. I promise to return your belongings after we are done and we decide where you are headed next.”

I frowned slightly. Decide where I was headed next seemed like code for ‘tell you what to do and where to go’. Still, if he wanted to hurt me, he had ample opportunity to do so. Might as well play along until I got my sword back. Then, I could play by my rules again. But for now, I had a story to recount.

Tenzin waited patiently until I finished my story, nodding slightly whenever I hit a dramatic moment. I found myself talking and talking, spewing the story out like water from a dam. It seemed so surreal, as if I were recounting a movie rather than my life story. A bad movie, at that. Once I got to the part about Djinn and explained how it was an heirloom from my mother, Tenzin exhaled in a long breath and got off his trunk. He took the blade out, careful to grasp it only by the parts that were covered in the blanket and handed it to me without a word. I paused for a moment just to enjoy the familiar feeling of the channel in my hands. Putting it aside, I kept on with my story.

The fish tasted delicious. Neither Tenzin nor I said a word after I finished the story and he handed me a skewered fish, cooked just right. I dug in ravenously, not caring for bones or scales. The Asian simply smiled and offered me a second fish. I muttered my thanks and devoured that, too. Tossing the skewers away, I sighed in relief – best meal ever.

“So, what now?” I asked.

Tenzin rubbed his goatee absentmindedly. “Now, I shall go into the city and wander around. I am sure
Kami-sama
will guide me.”

I snorted softly. I was never one for religious belief. Being raised by a demon in a house in the middle of the forest does wonders for your cynicism. It seemed stupid to me — wandering around, bumping into stuff and calling it an act of God. Sounds like something that a directionless person would do.

Yes, but where is your direction, Erik
? said the small voice inside my head.
Where are you gonna go?

The voice was right. I had nowhere to go, and the idea of someone or something smarter than me telling me where to go sounded good from where I was standing. Maybe God will provide for me the same way it provided for Tenzin.

Let’s just hope that God isn’t picky
, said the voice.

Damn, do I hate that voice.

Tenzin seemed to read my mind. “I would be honored if you joined me for a while, Erik. It would be wonderful to have some company,” he said with his usual smile.

“What exactly are we doing here?” My voice was drowned amid a busy, open market. People were everywhere, some stopping abruptly to look at something in a stall. Others brushed against me, twisting my shoulders and sending me staggering. A few spoke loudly and obnoxiously on their cell phones as they weaved in and out of the crowd. Worse than them were the rude bastards who just shouted across the street to their friends.

Tenzin stopped in front of a stall, and I felt his rucksack against my chest. His fingers mused over the crate of fruit in front of him and picked up a couple of oranges. He extracted a few coins from his pocket and paid the stall owner. He then pulled me aside and handed me an orange. I stood there with a quizzical look on my face, trying to force an explanation.

“Now, we wait,” was all he said. “And eat.” His fingers dug into the orange skin and peeled the fruit.

“Eat, eat,” he insisted as he tapped my orange and took a bite out of his. I peeled the fruit and put a slice in my mouth. The fruit tasted delicious and cool. As I swallowed, warmth grew in my belly with a slight tingling sensation. I looked up at Tenzin, who chewed contentedly and winked at me. My eyes caught movement and I saw something white and opaque on the hand holding his orange. At first I thought it was a bird of sorts. It looked like a puff of smoke, with wisps of white curling around it like threads. It hopped from his palm to his forearm, its ears flopping in the air.

It was the smallest of rabbits, tiny enough to fit in the palm of your hand. It made its way along Tenzin’s arm and touched its nose to the fruit.

“The rabbit deva makes a single item of food last for the whole day in your body,” explained Tenzin. He picked up the bunny with his other hand and placed it on my shoulder. The rabbit deva wiggled its nose two inches from my eyes in that funny way that only rabbits can manage. It hopped down my arm and did its nose-waggling at my orange before disappearing into a puff of smoke.

“Weird.” I took another bite, and could swear that the orange tasted better than before. The warmth in my stomach increased. It wasn’t uncomfortable, just deeply satisfying. “But handy to have around,” I commented.

Tenzin opened his mouth to respond, but held his silence. He nodded toward something behind me and pulled me backward, farther under the shade of the wall.

“No, you listen to me.” The angry voice came from the direction of the market. A short man wearing an apron yelled at his cellphone while sweat trickled down his forehead. “I ain’t going inside that goddamn place before you call pest control. That thing attacked me. It’s the size of a truck now. Call them animal people or somethin’. No, you listen to me, dammit. I ain’t getting no crates of ham. Probably why the goddamn thing got so big in the first place. Call pest control or something, or I ain’t opening that warehouse ever again. Let the damn thing rot in there for all I care.” He snapped his phone shut and fumed. The man wiped his brow and shifted his weight uncomfortably.

“Wait here,” said Tenzin with a smirk.

I watched as he walked briskly toward the man, who had his back turned to Tenzin. The Asian collected his power, and I remembered his overwhelming energy when he summoned the Buddha. The effect lasted only a second, and a familiar Alsatian dog manifested beside Tenzin. I smiled as I watched him talk to the stall manager and bow slightly to him. The man kept talking to Tenzin, but bent down to pet the dog, which was acting docile and goofy, tongue hanging out and huffing happily. The man exclaimed “Thank you!” to Tenzin and shook his hand enthusiastically. Tenzin bowed curtly and walked away.

“We have a job to do tonight,” he said.

“Yeah,” I paused. “So, is convincing people to trust you considered an act of God?”

Tenzin let out a chuckle. “Let’s call it divine intervention,” he said as he glanced at the dog. The Alsatian barked once and disappeared into a million specks of light.

Warehouse fifteen was dank and gray. It looked like something out of a B-movie, with a rusted door and moss slowly populating the sides, one square inch at a time. Perhaps locating the building only a few yards away from the shoreline wasn’t a good idea.

We walked up to it that evening. The entire area was bathed in orange lights and shadows. It was a warehouse haven, each placed next to the other like Lego blocks.

“This is it,” said Tenzin as he pointed at the large number “15” painted in red over the right side of the door. I rolled my eyes and tried not to say anything about stating the obvious.

“My boy, would you mind getting the door?” Tenzin placed a hand on his hip and massaged it. “I’m an old man with a bad back.”

My eyebrows shot up. “You’re rubbing your hip.”

“I meant to say my hips.”

“Yet, you said your back.”

“Would you please open the door, Erik? My English is not so good, you see.”

“Seemed perfectly good to me until now.”

“I am an old man, Erik.”

I gripped the door handle and dragged it to the side. The rusted hinges offered a little resistance before giving. A crack of darkness grew wide enough for two people to pass through side-by-side.

“I know you’re old,” I replied as we got in. “You’re going senile.”

Tenzin said nothing and walked inside, veering toward the right.

“Look at this,” he said as he pointed at something very close to the door.

I glanced over his shoulder. “Is that—?”

“Yes,” he replied. He poked a finger inside the large pile of manure. “Yes, it is chiropteran droppings.”

“Ew,” I replied. “Do you usually dig your hands in poop?”

“Yes, if it is necessary.”

“And did you wash your hands before handing me that orange earlier today?”

Tenzin stood up and pondered. “I really cannot remember.”

My stomach turned.

“But do not worry,” he continued. “The rabbit deva acts as a disinfectant.”

“Really?”

Tenzin shrugged. “How should I know?”

I was about to say something when we heard it. A shriek, like a thousand crows, echoed throughout the warehouse, making everything vibrate.

“Erik,” whispered Tenzin once the shriek stopped, leaving only a ringing silence. “Crouch down very slowly and do not make a sound.”

I obeyed, and slid against the wall with my eyes transfixed in the darkness. Tenzin fumbled around and I heard a metallic click. He had flipped the circuit breaker, once again illuminating the warehouse.

I heard a shriek and a violent gust of wind blasted me. Instinctively, I pushed sideways, my legs burning with the effort, and rolled awkwardly to my right. The black monster flew cleanly by and circled back. It hung upside down from a support bar, squeezing the metal under the grip of its talons.

At first glance it looked like a giant bat, maybe two and a half meters in length. It had talons like a raptor’s that squeezed the metal support bar of the lamp. Both lamp and bar were crushed like a tin can, with pieces of glass burying themselves in the chiropteran’s furry body. It stood tall and proud like an eagle, except that it was upside down. Its body was covered in long black fur, giving it a puffed-up look. From its sides, a pair of bat-like wings spread out, each two meters long and made out of thick, jet-black leather. A pair of wicked, curved claws, like meat hooks, reflected the light. They were the color of the wings, completely hidden in darkness until the moment they skewered you. Its head cocked itself at an angle like a bird’s. A pair of knobby, forward-facing horns emerged from the sides of its head where its ears should have been. The horns vibrated slightly, picking up on any movement or sound. The chiropteran opened its mouth to deliver a quick shriek. It had no pointy fangs or fancy beak. It had a hole, like a sucker, and around this sucker were rows of small teeth, like a spiral of white enamel. I shuddered involuntary. Those teeth weren’t for ripping out flesh. They were made for juicing you into a gooey paste that could be sucked directly into the monster’s stomach.

The chiropteran released its hold on its perch and dropped down. Its wings spread and it glided right at me, talons bared. I placed my right hand on my chest and pulled at a knot, releasing Djinn. I grasped the hilt and swung at the talons raking toward me, releasing an arc of blue energy from the blade. The hit altered the angle of the attack, sending the beast sideways. It flapped its wings awkwardly to avoid slamming onto a wall.

“It seems to like you, Erik,” said Tenzin. The old man was weaving in and out of the large crates and containers piled on top of each other, moving like a breeze. The bat never noticed him.

“Shut up,” I said as I ran away from the flapping and screeching.

“Perhaps I should provide a distraction?” he suggested.

The chiropteran got wise to my act and avoided my second attack, swerving to one side like a race car driver as blue energy streaked by. One of its wings caught my side, sending me crashing against a crate. One of the claws raked across my chest, tearing open a gash. My powers healed me instantly, but it still hurt like a bitch.

“You know,” I called out to Tenzin. “Maybe you could provide a distraction.”

I heard him chuckle.

Heat emanated from the other side of the warehouse. A single spot shone brightly, becoming increasingly intense by the heartbeat. The Chiropteran twisted its head toward the light, its small, bulbous, blood-red eyes searching for its source.
Like a moth to a flame
, I thought. The beast took flight lazily and circled over Tenzin, who stood still at the center of the light.

So that’s enlightenment,
I thought. Not the best of my puns, but hey, I was being attacked by a giant mutant bat.

I searched the room for something to give me an advantage. The warehouse was a mess of crates piled on top of each other with scratch marks on nearly every wall and smashed wood littering the areas of the room where the bat had gone rabid. Small piles of bones were tucked in one corner, and I shuddered to think whose they were. At least there were no skulls.

An idea formed in my head as I saw the beast float hypnotically toward Tenzin.

“Erik,” yelled Tenzin. “Please, do something before I run out of energy.”

“I got it old man.”

Tenzin released his power and the light disappeared. The bat shook its head violently and swooped toward the Asian man. It swooped again and again, raking with its talons, trying to catch the pesky little man. Tenzin had a different style of evasion than I did. He would twist and turn in tight circles, always narrowly avoiding a lethal blow.