Keene Brian - A Gathering of Crows

“So what are we looking for, anyway?”

“Two things. Why don’t you go into the kitchen and find us some salt. Doesn’t matter what kind. Table salt. Sea salt. Iodized salt. They’re all fine. Get all the salt she has—as much as you can carry.”

“Salt?” If not for the seriousness of their situation, Donny might have thought that Levi was fucking with him. “What do we need salt for?”

“It’s a weapon. You heard what Randy said. The thing that killed his parents had an aversion to salt.

Many supernatural entities do, at least when they’re in corporeal form. Salt is always a good magical failsafe.”

“And here I just thought it made food taste better.”

“It does that, too. Now, go on. I’ll poke around in here and see if I can’t find us some sage.”

“Sage?”

“Yes. I have a small quantity with me, here in my vest pocket. But we’ll need a lot more.”

“Personally, I’d be more comfortable with an M16.”

“But we already know such a weapon would be useless against our foe. Salt and sage are what we need.”

“If you say so.”

Levi nodded, his attention focused on the clutter. Shaking his head, Donny went into the kitchen and poked around in the dark. He found a salt shaker on the table and slipped it into his pocket. Then he opened the pantry door and found a large canister of salt on the top shelf. When he returned to the living room, Levi wasn’t there.

“Levi?”

“I’m upstairs,” he called. His voice was faint. “I’ll be down in a second.”

Donny waited. He sat the salt canister down on the table and flipped through a towering stack of magazines that leaned against the wall in one corner of the room. The titles were ones he’d never heard of before— Fate, the Fortean Times, Angels, the Coming Changes, Conscious Creation, Lightworker Monthly and others. Levi bustled around above him. Donny heard footsteps creak across the ceiling, followed by the sound of a drawer opening. He picked up an issue of the Fortean Times and flipped through it. There was a lengthy feature article about mermaids, including a report of a supposed mermaid sighting off the coast of Haifa, Israel the previous year. Most of the other articles seemed to be culled or clipped from various newspapers and magazines from around the world. All of them focused on the odd or paranormal— ghosts in London’s Highgate Cemetery, a man in Beijing falling seventeen stories and living, sightings of everything from Bigfoot to panthers in Manhattan, a rain of fish in a small French town, a Vietnamese man who had grown horns from his head and more. Each story was stranger than the previous, and all of them were supposedly true. Although Donny had never heard of the magazine, he certainly recognized some of the credited sources for the reports— the Associated Press, the Times of London, the Washington Post and others.

Donny suddenly felt lightheaded. The room began to spin. His pulse throbbed in his ears. He took a deep breath and steadied himself. It was all so bizarre. Most of the time, he felt like a young old man. He’d seen things—done things—that the rest of his former friends in Brinkley Springs would never do or understand, but even after seeing as much of the world as he had, he was faced now with the realization that he knew nothing and had seen nothing. There was an entire other world that existed in the shadows of the real world, a world populated by people like Levi and creatures like the ones outside. Skimming the articles in the magazine had just made the realization more concrete.

“Jesus Christ,” he whispered, breathless. “Jesus fucking Christ…”

He heard footsteps on the stairs. Donny composed himself. Seconds later, Levi appeared, carrying a small bundle of what looked like dried-up hay. He waved it as he approached.

“I found some. I just knew she’d have some on hand. Even an amateur knows about the properties of sage. Now we’re ready.” His gaze darted down to the magazine still in Donny’s hands. “Oh, the Fortean Times. That’s one of my favorite magazines.”

“Really?”

“Oh, yes. I read it every month.”

“I should have figured you would.”

Levi feigned offense. “I’ll have you know that I also read everything from National Geographic to Soldier of Fortune .”

“How about Penthouse ?”

“Only for the articles.” Grinning, Levi pointed to the magazine in Donny’s hand. “That’s an old issue. If I remember correctly, there’s an interesting article about Namibian bloodsuckers in it. Very thought provoking, since the classic chupacabra legends originated in South America.”

“I don’t know about that.” Donny’s mouth felt like it had been stuffed with cotton. “I didn’t read anything about bloodsuckers. I saw a big piece on mermaids.”

“Ah, mermaids.” Levi nodded. “Leviathan’s handmaidens. Beautiful and utterly evil. They’re vampiric, as well, though not in a sense that you’d probably understand. Nasty creatures, to be sure, but not nearly as bad as what we’re facing tonight.”

“Are… are the crows vampires?”

Levi frowned. “No, I don’t believe so. They’ve given no indication of such. Something similar to vampires, perhaps, given that they seem to feed on the souls of living things, but I’m not sure yet.”

Donny didn’t respond. With one trembling hand, he put the magazine back on top of the pile.

“What’s wrong?” Levi asked. “You’re sweating.”

“Levi… how long have you been involved in this?”

“In what?”

“This.” Donny made a sweeping gesture with his hand. “All of this fucked-up occult stuff.”

Levi lowered his head and stared at the floor. When he looked up again, his voice was softer and his air of self-assuredness was gone. He looked and sounded tired.

“All of my life. I was born into this. My father, Amos, practiced powwow, as did his father before him.”

“So, your dad taught you how to do these things?” Levi shrugged. “Some of them. He certainly taught me powwow, but his lessons—and tolerance— stopped there. He didn’t approve of the other methods I learned. He didn’t see that they were essential for battling the very things we were supposed to be taking a stand against.”

“He wanted you to grow up to be just like him.”

“In a sense. Although, to be honest, I think my father would have been happiest had I grown up to be just another farmer like my brother. I couldn’t, of course. Magic would have found me whether I’d been taught or not. The same can be said of Marsha’s brother.”

“Randy? Is that why you were acting so weird about him? But Randy’s not magic. Trust me, I’ve known that kid since he was little. He’s just a yo-boy. There’s nothing magic about him, unless you count how he can keep his pants from falling all the way down when he walks.”

“I’m not sure what a yo-boy is,” Levi said, “but trust me when I tell you that Randy has the gift. He was born with the abilities. They’ve just never been awoken in him. Probably because there’s been no one in his life who recognized his talent. I would guess that he’s had moments of luck—like tonight, when the vehicles started after he touched them. Little bits of synchronicity such as those are very much part of what we do. The trick is to recognize them when they happen and harness or control them, bending them to your will. Had he been properly taught, he’d be formidable against our foes.”

“Is that what you’re going to do? Train him?”

“No!”

Levi said it so strongly that Donny took a step backward. At first, he was afraid that he’d somehow offended Levi. The older man stood stiffly, his expression serious and grave.