Keene Brian - A Gathering of Crows

Medieval revenants were more similar to what he faced now. Levi considered the Anglo-Norman legends and folklore of that time—the documented accounts of William of Newburgh, the chronicler Walter Map, the Abbot of Burton and the bishop Gilbert Foliot, and the later writings of Augustus Montague Summers. Though the accounts varied, all had agreed that revenants who returned from the dead were wicked and evil while alive, and that the only way to destroy one was through exhumation, followed by decapitation and the removal and subsequent immolation of its heart.

Was it possible that his foes were some new form of revenant, a type thus far unknown to occultists? If so, how was he supposed to defeat them?

He was still thinking about it when they heard the screams. Without a word, Levi and Donny ran toward the sound. Their footsteps pounded on the asphalt, punctuating the cries. They rounded a corner, emerged onto another street and found a house under siege.

“That’s Axel Perry’s place,” Donny said.

The five dark figures had surrounded the home.

Two of them were in the front yard. One had just torn the face off an unfortunate victim. The man’s body lay jittering and twitching on the wet grass. Three other men stood on the front porch, watching in terror. Levi recognized one of them as one of the two owners of the local garage.

“Oh, shit,” Donny moaned. “I think that’s Greg Pheasant lying on the ground. But what’s wrong with him? He doesn’t look right.”

Levi reached into his pocket and pulled out his copy of The Long Lost Friend. He kissed it and then handed the book to Donny.

“Here. I’m about to drop our concealment. Keep this on you and don’t let it go. And Donny, for God’s sake as well as our own, stay here and do exactly what I tell you.”

“What are you going to do?”

Levi gritted his teeth. “I’m going to pick a fight.”

Without another word, he inched toward the house.

The injured man was still twitching, but his movements had slowed. As Levi crept closer, the man’s killer leaned over and thrust a hand into his back. He could hear the flesh rip from where he stood. The killer fished around inside the body and then wrenched the spine free, snapping it off at the base of the skull and then holding it in one hand like a dead snake. The man’s movements abruptly ceased.

The man in black held the grisly trophy high over his head. “Now we’ll feed on the rest of you.”

“No,” Levi said, stepping forward. “You won’t.”

The shadowy figures turned toward the sound of his voice. When they saw the source of the interruption, they shrieked. Levi imagined that the sound was probably like what one would hear if standing beneath a jet engine. Donny dropped Levi’s copy of The Long Lost Friend , slapped his hands over his ears and shouted something, but Levi couldn’t understand him. The words were lost beneath the cacophony.

Levi tried his best to ignore the noise and focus.

Levi’s heart beat once. Twice.

Then, still shrieking, three of the creatures swept forward in human form. The other two shape shifted into crows and soared toward him. Levi stood with his feet spaced at shoulder width and his hands in his pockets. His demeanor was grim but calm. He did not speak or flinch as they closed the gap. One of the birds pecked at his cheek. The sharp beak drew blood, but Levi didn’t flinch. Its feathers brushed against his skin as it passed. They were ice cold.

The other crow swooped at Donny. He dropped to his knees and scrabbled in the yard for Levi’s copy of The Long Lost Friend , picking it up at the last instant. The bird’s attack missed. Screeching, both crows circled around again.

“Leave the youth alone,” Levi shouted at them.

“Your fight is with me now. Face me as men.”

The three human-shaped figures stopped before him, laughing.

“But we are not men, little magus,” the tallest said. “We have not been men for quite some time.”

Which means that they once were, Levi thought, fighting the urge to grin. I might have been right. They might be some form of revenant—ones with the ability to change shape.

The two birds joined their brothers and resumed human form. The five figures surrounded him, hovering only an arm’s length away.

“Your quarrel is with me,” he told them. “I bested you earlier. Let the others go unharmed and face me again.”

The tallest gnashed its teeth. “You do not give orders to our kind, Levi, son of Amos. We will do as we wish.”

“Cowards.”

“Still your tongue, bearded one. We’ll feed until there is nothing left.”

“Levi,” Donny shouted, “look out!”

The shortest of the five slashed at Levi with its talons.

He sidestepped the attack and pulled one of his hands free from his pockets. In his fist was a handful of salt. Levi tossed it into the creature’s snarling face and yelled, “ Ia, edin na zul. Ia Ishtari, ios daneri, ut nemo descendre fhatagn Shtar! God, guide my hand.”

The effect was immediate and remarkable. Hissing, the shadow-man recoiled as if Levi had splashed battery acid in its face. Levi grinned as his opponent flung its clawed hands into the air and screeched—a long, warbling, tea-kettle sound that rose in intensity and seemed to have no end. The dark figure stumbled backward, colliding with its brothers, and violently shook its head from side to side.

Levi held up another fistful of salt. “Come on, then. I have plenty to go around.”

The creatures held their ground, staring at him with unbridled hate.

Levi backed up slowly, not taking his gaze from them. He stopped when he reached Donny. Without turning around, he whispered, “Move with me toward the house. Don’t panic. As long as you have the book, they can’t touch you.”

“It’s not me I’m worried about, dude. It’s you.”

“I’m fine. Now come on.”

He and Donny moved as one, shuffling toward the house. The three men in the doorway—Levi couldn’t remember if Donny had given him their names or not—had watched the confrontation and stalemate in horror, as if not quite believing what they were seeing. Levi and Donny moved slowly, circling around their foes. The dark figures turned with them, watching. Then, just as Levi and Donny had almost passed them, all five charged at once, flinging themselves at the men.

“Go!” Levi shoved Donny forward. The younger man stumbled but did not fall. For one terrifying second, Levi thought he might try to stay and fight, but he obeyed, running toward the house—a soldier to the end, following orders.

Heat flared in Levi’s back as one of the attackers slashed at him. The claws ripped through his clothing and into his flesh. Levi responded by tossing salt over his shoulder, and felt a vicious, satisfying thrill as the creature screamed in obvious torment. A blow landed on his left shoulder and Levi’s entire arm went numb. Moving quickly, he grabbed another fistful of salt with his good arm and spun in a circle, flinging it in a wide arc. Again, the attackers fell back.

“You don’t have an unlimited supply,” one of them croaked. “Already the bulge in your pockets lessens.”

“I have enough,” he said through gritted teeth, trying to ignore the pain in his back and shoulder. His left arm still had no feeling. It hung limp and useless. “Try me, if you like.”

“Bah.” The tallest of the five spat on the ground and the grass withered where the saliva landed. It took a tentative step toward him and Levi feinted with the salt. The creature stopped.

“You are a worthless adversary,” it taunted. “Gone are the days when any of your kind provided us with a worthy challenge.”