Nightmares and Daydreams: Chapter 23

The ship-like shadow appeared slowly and then all at once. It emerged from the fog, looming high over us, just like in our vision. Only it wasn’t a pirate ship like my mind interpreted at the time. It was something similar but entirely different. Something from another world.

And then the Grista swarmed, swooping down on us like a flock of birds in spring. Dray threw himself over me as he pushed us into a fancy decorative facade on the corner of the building. The Grista saw it as an obstacle and flew around it as they rushed forward and around the building. No one inside had any idea they were coming.

It would be a kill box.

With the help of sheer panic, I tapped the Plane and blasted a warning as loud and hard as I possibly could, hoping someone would hear it before it was too late. The swarm moved around the building looking for a way in. My hand itched for a sword.

“No time,” Dray shouted. “On my back.” He shifted into dragon form and lowered his body.

I swung up and got low since I had no way to defend myself. Dray lifted off, circling the building. “They’ve entered through the main doors.” He swooped down and joined the swarm.

What we found inside was chaos. Rain had her bubble up protecting at least a hundred. Navia and Saoirse’s hands waved through the air as they fought back the ghosts with magic. Only they weren’t quite ghosts any longer. Last time they weren’t fully here. We could see them, but only as shadows moving through their own reality. Now they interacted with our world, hurting and taking damage respectively. The wolves and bears were able to use their size and power to fight back. Some bled, but they kept fighting.

But the truly horrifying part was watching the Grista pick someone up and fly off with them. Dray unleashed a stream of fire. He used his body to throw up walls. It felt like time had stopped, or at the very least, was moving much, much slower than normal.

“What do they want?” Pain ripped through my leg as a Grista flew at us. It left a gash through Dray’s side, including where my leg was tucked into it. Blood dripped but didn’t gush, thank goodness. I was wrong before. The Grista weren’t fully here. One minute they appeared to be almost solid, wraith-like creatures with long arms, legs, and faces, and the next they were shadows. And as such, they did all their damage while they were solid.

“They move like—”

“A school of fish,” Dray finished my sentence in my mind. I felt his pain. Besides the gash that got us both, he had taken two severe blows to his right side as well.

The Grista moved as a swarm, only altering course to avoid an object in their path. Some of those movements made no sense, so I assumed it was something in their reality that caused the shift.

Even though it only worked one time out of four, I pulled down lightning and sent it toward the swarm moving our way. It fritzed and sputtered before dying out. So I tried again.

“Something is blocking our magic!”

“Or our magic doesn’t work in their reality.”

Fuck. He was probably right. Which is why our ancestors had to find different ways to fight. Ways to make weapons that worked in both realities. I needed a sword. “I won’t be long.”

“The hell you will.”

“I’m sorry, Dray.” I didn’t bother with any other platitudes. We didn’t have time to argue over shit. As the blood dripped down my leg I started to hear my heartbeat. And each thud was like the slow, heavy bass in a horror movie counting down until the next death.

No more death.

I hit the security panel and opened the armory safe and came to a stop. Lou huddled inside with Tymothy. Lou was the kind of person who would be in the thick of a fight, but with a son to protect, I more than understood using the safest place in the compound as a hideaway.

“You stay here and keep him safe.” I slid on the armor and grabbed Revenge. “I’m leaving the small sword for you.”

“How bad is it?”

The question was generic but I knew she was really asking about one male in particular. “He went for the army. I haven’t seen him since.”

“And the others?”

I moved to the door, ready to lock them back inside. “It’s bad.” Then I swung the door shut and hit the lock before shifting back to the battle.

Little had changed in the two minutes I was gone. Rain gathered more and more behind her as she fought to keep her bubble in place. If the sword didn’t do anything I would go and help her fend them off.

But the sword had to work. I just knew it would. It sang to me in my hands. The swords always called to me. And I always thought of them as a song, but not like this. This was a full-on battle opera. The sword vibrated as it sang and somehow I just knew what to do with it. I rushed toward a group of Grista without a second thought, without worrying how they might hurt me or whether they were “phased” into our reality.

The sword sliced through them indiscriminately. Ghost and wraith alike froze and then fell as my blade ripped through their bodies. A screeching wail went out and they all alerted.

And then after one long frozen beat, they all turned toward me.

My sword against all the Grista? Yeah, not gonna happen. And because I didn’t know what else to do with a thousand hungry, angry ghosts after me, I ran for the exit, hoping to at least draw their attention enough that my fellow samhain could take a few whacks at them too.

Maybe Dray was right after all. Maybe going for the armor was a terrible idea. It certainly seemed that way. He breathed fire on the column of flying wraiths and took a few out. Out of the corner of my eye I saw a bloody bear rip one in two. The distraction was working.

I just didn’t think it would work out so well for me.

Until I rounded the corner to the main entrance and came face to face with the new and improved Dreg Army. Iwan led the march forward. I came around to stand beside him, sword raised. “The ancient armor works.”

He nodded once. “We don’t have ancient armor, but we have numbers.”

The Grista came flying at them, and then at the last second, swooped up into the sky.

“Pursue!” Iwan commanded. The army turned and rushed toward the ghostly pirate ship. The Grista boarded in a rush, losing some of the wraiths in the process.

But not many. The ghost ship began to sail away, then disappeared completely into the mist of the hills. Just like a dream, except this wasn’t a dream at all.

“Fucking hell,” Iwan swore as he stared at the place the ship had once been. “How do we fight that?”

That was the million-dollar question. The one we were here tonight to try and figure out. What had our ancestors learned that helped them beat these creatures?

And why the hell did we forget?