Building up to Christmas with Dusty the Demon Hunter - A Blast from the Past - Flights of Fantasy Part 6

Dusty the Demon Hunter has had a few adventures that she decided to share with me - seven in all (so far) and this is the second one, hot on the heels of Dream Lover, came Flights of Fantasy.

This is the updated book cover. My wonderful best friend, Anna posed for these pics.

This was the original cover

Images of the book covers are mine, all others are from Google's Free for use image search unless the source is stated.

As ever, I have so many stories rolling around in my head, I can't recall every detail, so you'll just have to read it with me.

Enjoy!

Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4

Flights of Fantasy

Hunter and Dusty managed to dodge around the shambling, shuffling people, and once past the biggest group, Dusty looked back – and wished she hadn’t. The eyes of those people were gone, without exception, all had empty sockets and some had sewn up mouths, she noticed. The horror of it all made her turn her head and it was Hunter’s turn to remember just how young she was.

He pulled her close to him and hugged her tight for a moment and then they were off again, rushing along the rocky terrain to get to their destination.

They heard the rumble of an immense amount of water and finally rounded a bend in the path and saw the blackest river either had ever seen. It didn’t flow fast but it did flow. There were two small jetties one on either side of the river and there was a flat boat of sorts with a large and imposing robed figure standing in it.

The figure turned towards them as though he had heard their approach and he lifted up his arm and beckoned them on.

“Do you know what you’re doing, Dusty?” Hunter squeezed Dusty’s hand and she looked at him, she saw the lines of worry around his eyes and she didn’t think she’d noticed them before. If Hunter was worried, should she be too?

“Not really,” she said and Hunter paused in his stride. Dusty overtook him and pulled him along behind her.

“Wonderful,” he said as he looked up to the ceiling many hundreds of feet above them.

They arrived at the jetty and again the robed figure beckoned them onwards. Dusty let go of Hunter’s hand and walked forward. The jetty was only wide enough to allow single file passage. Dusty paused to look behind them, back the way they had come. The shuffling people they had passed on the way were walking so slow that they almost seemed to be standing still. They were still in the same order as they had been as far as Dusty could tell, and she assumed they were the dead, coming to cross the River Styx and that the Ferryman had caused them to slow their progress so that the two half-demons could conduct their business with him.

The thought had just crossed her mind and she turned back towards the figure in the boat. He nodded to her as though he had read her thoughts. Then she heard him chuckle and realised that was exactly what he had done.

“Forewarned is forearmed,” she said to him and he nodded again. She protected her thoughts and locked them down tight.

In a voice that sounded so old that it echoed through time as well as the cavern, the Ferryman spoke to them. “What do you want, Halflings? You cannot cross the river Styx unless you have the correct fare.”

“I do believe that it also helps if you are deceased when you cross?” Dusty said in a pleasant tone of voice and the Ferryman chuckled again.

“That is so but there are also mitigating circumstances.” His voice boomed yet was quiet. It carried over the water and came back to them in an eerie echo.

“As half-Demons, we are allowed to cross?”

“As Half-Demons, yes you are allowed to cross but you also have another agenda which gives you further entitlement.”

“Ah, the broken promise.” Dusty said and the Ferryman nodded again.

“Do you have the fare?”

Dusty reached into her pocket and fumbled for the objects that her grandfather had given her. She didn’t bring them out of her pocket; she held them in her hand and waited.

“There is also a question,” The Ferryman said.

“Yes, I thought there might be,” Dusty replied.

Hunter looked at Dusty in awe. He was quite scared by the proceedings and he didn’t know what was going on. He sensed a tension in the dank air but he held his tongue. Dusty hadn’t told him anything about what she had expected but it was obvious that she knew what was going on and he had to trust her.

“The question is...” The Ferryman began to speak.

“The question is: How do I relieve myself of this duty of Ferryman? That is your question, Charon,” Dusty interrupted him and as she spoke, his eyes flashed an icy blue that she could see deep in the shadows of his hood.

He seemed to be thinking and after a moment he nodded. She couldn’t tell if he was smiling but she hoped he was pleased.

“I’ll tell you when we get back if you don’t mind,” she said.

“Ah, the trust issue,” Charon said and this time, Dusty could hear his smile.

Dusty stepped into the bottom of the ferry with Hunter holding her hand to help her keep steady, then he stepped in too and they looked up at Charon.

One arm moved forward and the palm of his hand was open, he was waiting for his payment. Dusty brought out two small pieces of metal, they were a dirty silver colour and not quite round. They both had the picture of a crudely drawn owl on them and Charon looked at them closely. He nodded and the coins were secreted in the folds of his robe. Then he pushed off from the side of the jetty and they were crossing the River Styx.

“How long will you be, Halfling? The dead are not patient, they will not wait and I hate losing any to the waters of the Styx.”

“We’ll be right back.” Dusty said as she made an adventurous leap from the boat. She smiled to herself as she set the ferry swaying in the water and Hunter utilised his instincts and leaped too so as not to fall in the water. He shouted an alarmed “Hey!” at her but she was already running across the jetty to lean over the water. She filled a small glass flask with river water, bowed her head to the water to thank the water-dwelling spirits for their gift and then set off back to the ferry and Charon.

Charon blocked their way back onto the ferry and Hunter became worried all over again.

“You’ll get your answer when we are safe on the other side, Charon. I promise,” Dusty said in a voice that was strong and clear. She wasn’t intimidated by the looming figure of the Ferryman, even if Hunter thought that she had good reason to be.

“Very well, Halfling.” Charon said and allowed them to get back.

Dusty was getting worried, even though she didn’t appear to be. The dead were getting close to the jetty and they were bunched up tight so that if they reached the jetty before Dusty and Hunter got off the Ferry, they would have to wait until they had all passed before they could make their way back home and by that time it may be too late for Finn.

Again, Charon held out his hand for the payment and Hunter’s heart fluttered as he thought that they had made a mistake but again, Dusty pulled out two of the coins from her pocket and Charon pushed off from the jetty again.

Hunter leaped from the ferry even before they had docked but Charon caught hold of Dusty’s arm and wouldn’t allow her to disembark. She looked at his hand on her arm and shook her head.

“I made a promise and you accepted it, Charon. Allow me to get to the jetty and I will tell you your answer.”

For a long minute, Charon held her arm and Hunter looked at the approaching dead, they were moving faster now and getting closer than he liked. Soon they would not be able to pass on the jetty.

Charon at last allowed Dusty to go and she jumped onto the jetty’s boards. She turned to Charon and bowed with respect.

“Your answer, Charon, is that you must pass the oar to another in order to be freed from your task. That is why I needed to be out of your craft before I told you the answer.”

“Thank you Halfling. Go in peace. The dead shall slow down and not hinder you as you pass. As soon as you are out of the cave, before even the sunlight touches your feet, you must be airborne and away, for the sisters know that you are here and they can fly far faster than you. You must take every advantage.”

Dusty nodded her thanks and waved to Charon and then sprinted to catch Hunter up.

They did as they were told; as soon as they were out of the cave’s mouth they took to the air and were on their way back home to Ange and her troubled cousin, Finn.

They landed on the pavement close to Ange’s house. Hunter was relieved that there was no-one to see them, it was dark and a light drizzle seemed to be keeping even the staunch and determined dog walkers indoors. Or it could be the fact that it was three a.m. he supposed.

Ange opened the door and let them inside as soon as Dusty knocked on the door.

Dusty went through the hall to the living room where she had left Finn asleep. He was still on the sofa but he was awake. His eyes were red and he looked weary.

“Are you ok?” she asked him and he heard the genuine concern in her voice. He nodded and smiled, it was a tired and scared smile and Dusty felt a warmth towards the boy that she hadn’t before.

She pulled out the glass flask from her pocket and held it up so that the light shone through the glass and the water. It swirled and eddied though she held the bottle quite still. Reflected and refracted light played on the walls and ceiling and Dusty was mesmerised, as were the others.

She wondered what the water would look like in the bright sunlight if it was so beautiful under artificial light. Then she snapped herself out of it and put the bottle back in her pocket. She realised that the water had a soothing and almost hypnotic effect on her companions too as they snapped out of it once the bottle was hidden.

Then she went outside, gathered up the brass nick-nacks and gave them to Ange.

No sooner had she put the brass ornaments out of sight than there was a hammering on the doors and windows. Their guests had arrived on cue.

Ange looked to Dusty for her advice but Dusty didn’t say a word. She went to the front door and opened it.

“Hello Ocypete, Celano and Aello. You are here for a reason?” Dusty stood in their way, barring their entry to the house.

“Move out of our way, we have no quarrel with you, Halfling. We are here for our legitimate prize.”

“In what way is he your legitimate prize?” Dusty was calm but she could almost feel Ange’s fear as she listened from the living room, holding her quaking cousin tight in her arms. She did notice that Hunter had placed himself between the cousins and the door and she was grateful for his assurance.

“He is ours by right. Suicides and other self-harmers are ours to amuse ourselves with."

“You’re missing a few strategic but very important points, I think, girls,” Dusty said with a nonchalance that bemused Ange. “First, Finn is not who you believe him to be. He is not the reincarnation of King Phineos.”

Dusty watched the Harpies’ confusion and pressed her advantage. “He is not a self-harmer, the technicality is that you forced him to hurt himself and so, it doesn’t count.”

Again, the Harpies were in confusion and they looked to each other as though one would have the answer to the puzzle.

“The third piece to your confusion is the fact that Iris swore upon the waters of the River Styx, the most grave and portentous oath, that you should never visit Phineos’s house again and yet you did visit and you took him to your house and you performed vile and crude ceremonies upon him.”

Dusty slowly and carefully brought out the bottle from her pocket. She held it up in her hand so that the light from the hallway struck the water inside it and the reflected and refracted light shone onto the Harpies’ faces. They screeched in a terrible cacophony and took to the air, screeching curses and insults at Dusty as they went.

“Are they gone?” Ange asked when Dusty came back into the room, Dusty nodded ‘yes’. Finn looked up at her and he smiled a huge beaming grin. “Thanks Dusty.”

“I’d save your thanks till you see what you’ve got to do next, if I were you,” she said.

She held up the bottle again and told him that he had to drink half of it. Ange had to drink the other half, just in case. The water would protect them for a good many years, perhaps until they had to make their own journey to see Charon. Finn took the bottle without question and even though it made him double over in pain when he had swallowed it, Ange took the bottle from him and she followed suit. They both writhed in agony for a while before the pain subsided and they were able to breathe properly again.

“I would suggest that you carry a small item of brass with you at all times, to be on the safe side. You never know if they will send the Strix after you in their fury,” Dusty told them.

Dusty and Hunter left Ange’s house just as the sun was bringing light to the diminishing clouds. It had stopped raining and the dawn was promising a brighter day.

“Is it Sunday or Monday do you think?” Hunter asked as they walked towards Dusty’s home.

“No idea.” She said.

Hunter took hold of her hand again and though they were in no danger and therefore needed no assurance from each other, she allowed him to hold her hand.

“Is this going to be a regular thing then?” He asked as they walked in the middle of the path to avoid the droplets of water that fell from the trees.

“Hand holding? Yes, I would think so.” Dusty replied.

“No, not hand holding, you fool, this, hunting for solutions to demons and Harpies and the like.” Hunter said and pulled Dusty to a stop. Then he guided her around to face him and he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her long and deep.

Dusty was surprised at first but soon gathered her wits and kissed him back.

There was a terrible shriek above them. The air vibrated and they both ducked low. They saw the black and greasy wings of the Strix as it flew away after its failed attack.

“That was a close one!” Dusty said as hunter helped her to her feet.

“I wonder if it’s bad luck to kill a Strix?” Hunter said, half to himself.

Dusty began running towards the house. “Let’s go and find out!” She shouted to him and they laughed.