Boneswulf...Part 4

“I’ll carry the fourth blade,” Herne said, looking to calm things down. “I can use two if I need to, but it is alway good to have a spare on hand if needed. I should tell you one more thing about these blades.”

Now Fang spoke up, “What’s that dude?”

“The reason there are only four of these blades left is because Moira and I have made it our personal mission to destroy these cursed weapons. They black magick that was used to create these blades caused the Spirit of an innocent child to be trapped inside each blade. When the forging of the blades was nearing completion, the evil bastards that the Arch Bishop had hired to make these things cooled them in then living bodies of children of people who had been accused of using witchcraft.

“After this fight, I want to ask your help in destroying them for once and for all.”

Ravyn looked like she could kill with a thought at this moment, she was shaking as she said, “I will certainly see that we do whatever is necessary to destroy them and release those poor Spirits.”

“Me too. I have some personal experience on being a trapped Spirit, I couldn’t imagine being trapped inside a prison like that for hundreds of years.”

“Agreed.” Fang looked as outraged as I felt when he said that.

“Good. Shall we track ourselves a monster then?” Asked Herne.

With that, he sealed up the case again after restoring the one sheathed blade he had pulled out to show us. He muttered some more words as a small flash lit up the locks again. He loaded the case back into the van that they had rented. We piled into the vehicle with Herne taking the driver’s seat.

The ride into the City was a quiet one, we had already shared everything we could on the coming struggle already, and the talk of those damn daggers put a damper on any kind of idle chat.

On the way into the City, i called up SAIC Murphy of the Manhattan office and informed him that I was going to the scene of the last crime for another look around. He was more than a little surprised to hear my voice and to hear that I was well enough to try tracking that thing again. He did manage to regain enough composure to ask if I needed any backup, but seemed more than a little reassured when I indicated that no additional men would be needed, other than a pair of men to watch the scene from the outside to keep curious onlookers away.

He agreed to send the one car and hung up.

About 45 minutes later, we were pulling up to the alleyway where a car with two bored looking agents were waiting near the still roped off entrance to the home and business of the dead gypsy fortune teller, Henna.

The agents perk up with more than a little interest when they recognized me, both of them spent more time looking at my resotred leg and hand than at any of my new companions. I approached the driver’s side of their sedan. “Look, I’m going back down there with these folks. We’re taking in some special tools to deal with the killer. I need you guys to make sure that no one slips in behind us and tries to interfere. Also, keep a line open to Murphy in case we need to request assistance.”

The driver looked at Ravyn, Herne and Fang and then back to me. “You sure you gonna be OK down there Agent Bones? You were messed up pretty bad the last time.”

I made a point of patting him on the shoulder with my new hand, which I saw he noted, and said, “We’ll be OK down there. Just keep anyone else from getting involved, OK?”

“Yes sir.”

With that, I led the three others to the rusty door and pried it open, “Be advised, it stinks pretty bad in here.”

Herne follwed me in, carrying the closed case containing the blades. Fang followed him with Ravyn trailing. Her gagging cough sounds told me all I needed to know about how bad it actually smelled down here. Remembering the way back to the manhole cover, I led them through the warren of bookshelves and knicknacks until I came to the still open cover.

“I think we need to get ready right here, that thing could be anywhere down there, so we better be armed for trouble.”

Herne nodded, set the case down and did his little ritual to open it back up. Once it was open, he carefully handed one sheathed blade to me. I used the clip on the sheath to attach the thing to my belt in and angled the blade so that the hilt pointed down from the small of my back, making it easily accessible with either hand.

Fang took his sheathed balde carefully as well and clipped it to a device on his left forearm, giving him a tool to block blows with the sheathed weapon, and the ease to draw it with his other hand when needed.

Herne attached the remaining two sheathed blades to his own belt and nodded when he finished.

Ravyn stood by the hole waiting impatiently for us. Once she saw Herne nod his readiness, a ball of flame erupted from her outstretched hand and balsted down into the darkness below. The ball of fire then seemed to settle near the floor, illuminating the place with its flickering flame. The shadows danced to an unheard music as Herne took the lead and climbed down into the tunnel below....