Cursed Earth (Kat Drummond Book 12) Read online

  Make sure to check the reading order of the Katverse and ensure you don’t miss a novel or short story!

  https://kat.nicholaswoodesmith.com/reading-order/

  Copyright © 2021

  Kat Drummond

  All rights reserved

  This is a work of fiction. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise without the prior written permission of the publisher and the copyright owner.

  Make sure to visit the Kat’s Crusaders Website and pick up your FREE short story:

  https://kat.nicholaswoodesmith.com/

  Cover Designer

  Website

  Facebook

  Contents

  Chapter 1. Senses

  Chapter 2. Coffee

  Chapter 3. Gods

  Chapter 4. Ashes

  Chapter 5. Blame

  Chapter 6. Scripture

  Chapter 7. Authority

  Chapter 8. Intel

  Chapter 9. Briefing

  Chapter 10.Mortality

  Chapter 11.Wolves

  Chapter 12.Cats

  Chapter 13.Dinner

  Chapter 14.Hostage

  Chapter 15.Confrontation

  Chapter 16.Death

  Chapter 17.Revelation

  Chapter 18.Seraphim

  Chapter 19.Plan

  Chapter 20.Flesh Factory

  Chapter 21.Anger

  Chapter 22.Solo

  Chapter 23.Foes

  Chapter 24.Throne

  Chapter 25.War

  Chapter 26.Loss

  Afterword

  Acknowledgements

  Chapter 1.

  Senses

  Seldom is anything as it seems. And, in the case of monsters and dark spirits, eyes are often your worst enemy.

  Too bad I don’t have much else to use.

  “Behind you!” I yelled, my flaming coat bursting into an inferno that lit up the dark, derelict expanse of this long-abandoned warehouse.

  Kyong Man turned at my warning and locked his feet into a martial arts pose, feet splayed like a duck. He let loose a flurry of punches into the air, making contact with the ever-shifting dark morass that had already knocked Heather, Busani and two other Crusaders unconscious.

  I’d seen what Kyong’s fists could do. He’d punched trolls in the gut and ripped their flesh from their bones in a single hit. He could, honestly, replace most of the Crusader’s manpower by himself. If he were so inclined, he could be a truly terrifying one-man army.

  But, the problem with monsters is that what works for some only makes others angrier.

  Kyong’s fists impacted with the irate fog, dispersing it slightly. But, not enough. The fog dodged and weaved around his limbs, tying itself around him like a boa constrictor. And then…it tightened.

  “Why bring them into this fight if they are just going to get in the way?” Treth asked, as he jogged alongside me.

  We’d just been on the other side of the room, pursuing this creature as it knocked out Heather. She was still breathing. Thank Athena! But, the creature was nowhere to be seen. That is, until it was whizzing towards the Tiger Fist on the other side of the room.

  I sighed. Treth was grumpy. Understandable. I was too. Losing good troops like this, against what could only be described as an enraged mist, was not the happiest of experiences.

  “How was I meant to know that we were fighting a weather anomaly? Kyong can usually beat up anything!”

  As if to spite me, the air was wracked by Kyong’s cries, as he fell to the ground, whimpering.

  The constricting morass of dark fog let him fall, as it shot up into the air, disappearing into the darkness once again.

  This was an old warehouse. Long abandoned at the edge of the urban sprawl of Hope City. The community nearby had reported repeated sightings of an “evil mist” and the resulting injuries and attacks performed by said mist.

  We’d expected nightkin, a demon or vampire. Clients seldom knew what they were looking at. And, when people in Hope City reported evil climate anomalies, they were usually far from being actual weather. But, hunters often were just as guilty of ignorance.

  And, that’s why we were four hunters down, and I was running around a dark warehouse yelling at a cloud.

  “Oi! Smoggy boy! Get down here and fight me man to man!” I shouted, waving Ithalen (my magical sword gifted to me by the Lady of the Lake) around like a fly swatter.

  “Taking after the pixie, I see…” Treth commented, shaking his head.

  “Got a better idea?”

  Treth looked up, contemplating, and then cupped his hands over his mouth.

  “Are ye a coward, mate? Get down and fight my female companion man to man!”

  I sighed. “It’s a figure of speech.”

  “If you two are done nattering,” Cindy interjected, as she entered the warehouse, letting a brief ray of sun infiltrate the room before it was snuffed out by the ever-present darkness. “Then we can save the rest of the crew.”

  “Cins?!” Treth and I both exclaimed at once, disbelieving.

  She cocked an eyebrow at us, her face illuminated by the fiery orange of my coat.

  “Why the surprise?” she asked.

  “Well,” I pointed Ithalen towards the ceiling. “We’re fighting an evil cloud that has plunged this building into eternal darkness. And it isn’t ever where we think it is. I’m not really trusting my eyes right now.”

  Cindy sighed. “Why is it never easy?”

  “If it were easy, we wouldn’t have a job. We’ve got four agents down. Can you scan them?”

  Cindy’s eyes went blank for a second as she looked at Heather from across the room.

  “She’s fine.”

  “Really?” I asked, surprised. Can you blame me? Kyong’s screams were still echoing in my ears.

  “Fine as she’s going to be for now. Vitals all showing up normal. It seems like a coma. Magical. And my hypothesis is that after we exorcise this spirit, they’ll wake up.”

  “Sure, it’s a spirit?” I asked. “Could be fae, demon, or a manifested curse.”

  “There’s such a thing as overthinking, Ms Drummond,” a voice announced from the shadows behind Cindy. I rubbed my eyes and confirmed that the voice belonged to Ismail, the Crusader’s resident expert on everything.

  “Overthinking? Me?” I scoffed. “Treth says I don’t think enough.”

  Treth looked positively taken aback. “Me? Never!”

  “Don’t take it the wrong way, Kat,” Cindy grinned, despite the circumstances. “Some of us are good at not thinking.”

  “Gee, thanks.”

  I grinned, but my mood soon darkened to match the hue of the warehouse.

  Ismail approached more closely, his face obscured by the shadows. Rifts, it was hard to see in here!

  “Are you a mirage?” I asked. “Because I was sure I saw twenty dancing unicorns earlier.”

  Ismail’s mouth twitched into a grin. “I am real. Well, as real as anyone is. I entered with Cindy, but the pervasive darkness here hid me.”

  “Sounds like a really demonic thing to do.”

  “You really don’t want this to be a spirit, do you?” Treth asked, almost mockingly.

  “I’ve dealt with enough ghosts to last an eternity.” I sighed. “But, fine. Ghost, spirit. Whatever. How do we get rid of it? Did you bring the holy salts?”

  In a flash, Cindy seemed to manifest multiple vials of glowing white salts, between each of her finger
s on either hand, as if they were ninja stars.

  “That won’t be necessary, Ms Giles,” Ismail said calmly, as he moved past her, lowering her hands with his own. She looked a little disappointed.

  Ismail stood still, watching the black ceiling. I heard groans from the shadows. Kyong was there, as were the others. Writhing. But, they were alive. I think. I had to trust my own senses in that regard, and, of course, Cindy’s magical intuition.

  “Has the spirit spoken to you, Kat?” Ismail asked, suddenly, catching me off guard.

  “Um…no. I don’t think so.”

  “No attempted possession?” Cindy added.

  “Not that I am aware of.” I looked to Treth. “You feeling fine?”

  “A bit peckish.” He grinned. His grumpiness from losing this fight had wilted away as Cindy and Ismail arrived.

  Of all the Crusaders, they were in the top tier for reliability. Anything Cindy couldn’t heal or banish with her sorcerous purification magic, Ismail could probably figure out another arcane solution for. Add my friend, Pranish, to the mix and we had a trifecta of some of the best minds when it came to monsters and magic in Hope City.

  “Don’t take this lightly, Kat,” Cindy lectured, her grin gone. If it had even been there in the first place, of course. Couldn’t trust your eyes in this place. Busani had accused me of being a mimic before he’d been knocked out.

  “I know, I know.” I sighed. Cindy was, of course, referring to my condition. While Treth guarded the vessel inside my soul intensely, spirits were peculiar things. We didn’t know if any dark spirits could shove past him and possess me, taking control of the Army of the Vessel and all the spirits I’d saved in the past.

  In fact, we didn’t even know if that’s what would happen. Would Aven, Gorgo, the brown dog from Avathor and all the other spirits disappear if I was possessed? Or would they be enslaved by the dark spirit who took over my body?

  All hypotheses, no evidence. Which made me even more stressed.

  And that stress made me really not want this to be a dark spirit!

  Ismail breathed in deeply, with an air of anticipation. Cindy and I held back whatever humorous retort we had and turned to him.

  I had only been back in Hope City for a few weeks since my trip to New Sintar but, in that time, I’d already come to appreciate Ismail even more for his insight into all beasts and the arcane. I suspected this would be no different.

  “I have no idea what this thing is,” Ismail announced.

  If you could hear a pin drop in the silence of the warehouse before, you could probably hear a mouse thinking now.

  But, before any of us could break the silence with an insult, jest or display of disbelief, Treth did what he did best…

  “Get down!”

  …Save my fool neck.

  I ducked low, ignoring my coat as it shot out irritated sparks at my sudden movement. I heard the cutting of air as the dark fog solidified where my head had just been and sliced through the dark like a scythe does wheat.

  Cindy jumped back, her hands already glowing a splendid gold. With a short muttering of incantation, more to guide her attack than summon it, she released a shard of pure, golden light. The purification bolt flew true, hitting the fog. While bullets had whizzed through the creature like it was just fog or mist, displacing it only slightly, this had a far more satisfying effect.

  First, the gold disappeared into the fog with a fizzle, letting out sparks of golden light like an electrical fuse encountering moisture. And then…the fog screamed.

  “Should’ve let you take point, Cins!” I exclaimed, as I moved to the side and got ready for the onslaught. If the fog was miffed before, it was positively seething now.

  “You wouldn’t need me if you learnt how to launch purification bolts,” she responded, calmly, just before releasing another volley. Without breaking a sweat, I might add.

  I moved to let Ismail stand behind me, as I drew Voidshot. Ithalen could typically cut through most monsters, but the Void-defying Mauser pistol was much more reliable at dealing with evil spirits.

  “I don’t have any spark. Just an army of ghosts. And none of them seem to know how to launch golden goody lights at beasties.”

  Before Cindy could reply, the fog coalesced into a solid labyrinth of dark, pulsating energy and then it charged.

  I fired Voidshot, rapidly pulling the trigger and emptying its stripper-clip. In the past, I’d have been more conservative with my ammunition. Silver 8mm rounds were expensive to get cast. But, I was a big-shot monster hunter now. No need to be a miser.

  Even if I still opted for instant ramen most nights.

  The shots didn’t stop the fog-creature, but every bullet seemed to dissipate portions of the morass. As my trigger pulls turned from bangs to a click, I hastily dropped my gun, letting it fall loosely on its chain by my side.

  Treth appeared, dropping Ithalen into my hands. He fell into position at my flank, his own sword and shield at the ready.

  With only Cindy’s blasts to slow it down, it started to speed up. Closer, closer. My comrades weren’t dead, but I had no optimistic thoughts of what this thing would do to us once it felt safe. I didn’t fancy being eaten alive. Or worse.

  “Focus on its core!” Ismail yelled, as if he had just had an epiphany.

  “What the Rifts does that mean?” I yelled back. I could practically smell the cold acridity of the creature before me.

  “It’s magical essence, Kat!” Cindy explained, her voice harried. She was afraid. More afraid than I. Did that make me brave or stupid?

  Magical essence. Core. Did they mean spark? No. Not everything had spark. Only sorcerers. But all beings had some sort of magic inside of them. Something that linked them to the Realms. Something that made them…them.

  Despite the roiling darkness before me, I closed my eyes and focused. Really focused. And I extended my mind’s eye forward, towards the creature.

  First, I felt only the cold of the warehouse. And a rising anxiety that comes from closing your eyes when facing danger. But, as I remembered all my magical training, from Cindy, Pranish, Ismail and the Sintari Queen, Allandrea, I noticed something else.

  Whispers.

  I opened up my mind, and listened in. Focusing, as if I was looking inwards at the Vessel’s inhabitants and trying to harness their power.

  It was whispers. And they filled my veins with ice.

  “Kat…Kat…Kat…” they chanted.

  “What do you want? Who are you?” I whispered back. The voices, as there were many, were cold, afraid. But behind all that…there was an unmistakable menace.

  “Let us in, Kat. Please. We need you. So warm. So…full of life.”

  I froze, but then felt a warm hand on my shoulder. Treth.

  “Sorry, bub,” I said, looking into the Void. “No vacancies.”

  I opened my eyes to the material world, just as the dark spirit was a hairsbreadth from my nose. But, I knew what it was now. Which meant, I knew how to kill it.

  I drove Ithalen into the spirit’s core, while incanting words sent to me by Gorgo. The words channelled the power of my sword, letting it find its way into the heart of evil, and purge it.

  The fog screamed and convulsed as I thrust Ithalen further. It wasn’t like stabbing mist or flesh. But something in between. Like pressing a knife into butter.

  The screams and whispers of the darkness eventually abated, as the mist shrunk. Smaller and smaller. Until…nothing.

  Like magic, because that was probably the cause, the sun suddenly shone through the windows of the warehouse. It was late morning, and the unconscious Crusaders rubbed their heads as they slowly awoke.

  All except for Heather, who awoke with a start, immediately lunging for her Grootslang-bone Naginata.

  “Where’s the enemy?!” she shouted, almost a war cry and almost a question.

  “Banished,” Ismail explained, approaching the lanky Crusader as Cindy helped Busani stand.

  Ismail turned to wher
e the dark spirit had been just before its banishment, and then angled himself towards me.

  His stare pierced something deep inside me. He knew. What I’d heard. What I’d experienced. Well, maybe not exactly. But he had guessed it. Ismail knew things. That was his job.

  “Dark spirits are never easy to contend with,” he announced. “But we’re all alive and healthy. Some good coffee and we’ll all be fit as fae. On me!”

  The shaken and groggy Crusaders soon perked up as free caffeine was offered, and they followed me out of the warehouse.

  But, despite being the first to exit, I was the last to get in the van, as I gave the warehouse one final look, and pictured the Void one final time.

  Chapter 2.

  Coffee

  Ismail had good taste in coffee. Too good. If I’d been paying, I would have gone to a fast-food joint and splurged on some instant coffee from a machine. But Ismail thought the crew deserved something nicer and took us to an unusually fancy café in the suburbs. The coffee’s rich aroma was strong enough to wake me up and chase away the shivers of the whispering spirits. The taste and shot of caffeine were perhaps a little too much, to be honest.

  But, it was just what Heather, Busani, Kyong and the two new guys needed. While they had been silent in the van, they were now chatting about recent hunts and exploits and asking what had happened when they were napping.

  “I saw on the App that you put down an abomination last night,” Kyong said, gesticulating at Heather as he sipped his coffee. Still boiling, I might add. It was as if he’d put a forcefield in his mouth and throat to not feel the burn. Or he felt it anyway and didn’t care. Kyong liked to challenge himself.

  Heather blushed at the acknowledgement.

  “It…it was mostly Hammond.”

  Kyong grinned, mischievously. “Give yourself some credit. Your hot-head fiancé can’t burn anything if it bites his head off.”

  Heather’s cheeks flushed an even fiercer red. I rolled my eyes. Could the girl get any more timid?

  Despite my irritation at Heather’s continued shyness, I had to admit that I liked her. The incident with Darius in December had proven that she was trustworthy. A core member of the Crusaders. I wouldn’t trust her with keeping her head at a party, but I’d trust her with my life in a fight.