Building up to Christmas with Dusty the Demon Hunter - A Blast from the Past - Flights of Fantasy Part 2

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

Flights of Fantasy

Dusty waited until they had left before she opened her hand. She was surprised, she had expected to find a cross but instead, it was a tiny figure of a cat with a loop on its collar so Dusty could thread it onto a string of leather and use it as a necklace.

“What are afraid of cats?” She asked as she knotted the leather thong.

“It’s not the figure that will protect you, but what the figure is made of. Your grandfather is very wise and knowledgeable. Harpies are afraid of brass,” Hunter said.

“So he thinks a Harpy sent the Strix?”

“I’d bet on it.” Hunter said and Dusty didn’t much like the frown that had settled on his brow again.

She touched his arm and said “Hey, don’t worry. I’ll be fine. I have gran and grandad’s knowledge and you to help me. That Harpy won’t be too difficult to deal with.” She smiled at him and tried to reassure him but his frown stayed where it was and his eyes held something that she’d not seen in them before. Hunter was frightened.

“Not Harpy – Harpies. There are three of them and they are sisters.”

When Hunter had said goodnight and left, Dusty decided that she would take as many precautions as possible when she went to sleep that night.

She chanted incantations, lit candles and scattered salt. She had searched the house for other brass figurines and found a dozen or more items, mostly what she had thought of as ornaments before. Horse brasses, it would seem, were not just ‘dust catchers’, they were also useful as protective amulets.

Dusty left them all where she found them, she realised that they would have been placed in strategic positions and so no good would come from disturbing them. She also remembered that there were other brasses outside too.

There was an ornamental horseshoe above the garage door which she thought had been put there for ‘luck’. There was a brass boot scraper by the front door and a large brass toad by the back door. She was amazed and fascinated by her grandparents’ attention to detail and she wondered just how many more items of protection were scattered about the place.

The next morning, she almost fell over the figure of a brass horse as she came out of her bedroom and she put it on a shelf above her bed before she went down for breakfast.

It would seem that her grandparents had been burning the midnight oil because they both looked tired and drawn.

She had a fleeting pang in her heart as she realised that they were not her parents, even though she thought of them as such. They were old and no matter how well they looked after themselves and each other, they were growing older year on year. They didn’t have the benefit of demon blood in their veins and she wondered if they ever envied her and Hunter their youth.

“Morning.” Dusty said, trying to shake off her maudlin thoughts. She sounded cheery to her own ears but both her grandparents gave her a concerned glance as she sat down and she realised that they could see past the false jollity.

“Good morning sweetheart, did you sleep well?” Dusty’s grandmother said and passed her a mug of coffee and a plate of toast.

“Not really Gran, I had a few nightmares I think but I don’t remember them in any detail. You know how dreams are.” But even as she was saying the words, Dusty’s expression altered because she could remember a part of her dream and it wasn’t nice at all.

“What is it dear?” Her grandad saw the change take place and put his hand on hers.

“Part of my dream came back. I saw the Strix and it was standing next to a woman... she was beautiful, with gorgeous hair and nothing like what I imagined a Harpy to look like but her smile...” Dusty shuddered and her shoulders pulled upwards in a tight shrug.

He nodded at her description. “That’s how they were usually described in the beginning. It’s only relatively recently that they were seen as ugly and vicious beasts. Perhaps their evil deeds have taken a toll on their beauty?”

“Well no wonder they’re so bitter then because she really was beautiful and if she’s turned into what I think of as a Harpy, I’d be trying to find a good plastic surgeon if I were her.” Dusty tried to make light of the situation but the dream was far too vivid and malignant for her and she didn’t fool her grandparents for a moment.

They sat for an hour or more discussing Harpies and their mythology. The reason that Dusty’s grandparents looked so sleep deprived was because they’d not slept at all yet. They had been working hard on their research, all for Dusty’s benefit and she thought it only fitting that she should go out and leave them to catch up on their missed slumber.

Because Dusty was concerned about the wear and tear on her bike, she went out on foot after breakfast. She headed out over the fields towards town.

It was still a little early for her friends to be out and about on a Saturday morning but she made her way to the cafe where they always met so she could wait for the first one to arrive.

She had thought that she’d be the first at the cafe but she was wrong. Ange was already there. Dusty was pleased to see that the ravages that Impundulu had inflicted on her were finally beginning to wear off but though the dark circles had gone from under her eyes, they still held a little of the fear that he had caused and that made Dusty sad.

Ange saw Dusty and she waved to her so that she was sure that she’d seen her. Dusty waved back at Ange then went to the counter to order her drink. Dusty arrived at the table that Ange was sitting at, holding two mugs of coffee. Dusty put one in front of her friend.

“Stop worrying about me, I’m getting a lot better and my sleep is actually restful these days, thanks to you.” Ange said to reassure her. Dusty tore her stare from the swirls on the foam on top of her coffee and looked at her friend and then she cracked a smile, her mood began to lift.

“So why are you up and about so early on a Saturday?” Ange asked after a moment of silence that was uncustomary between them.

“I could ask you the same thing.” Dusty replied.

“I asked you first.”

“I had a night full of bad dreams...”

Ange became tense at those words and Dusty rushed to reassure her.

“No, don’t worry, it wasn’t the incubus, it was an owl, a big black owl.”

“Owls aren’t black.” Ange said.

Dusty sighed then and Ange became yet more worried but Dusty suddenly shook it off again and grinned. It was her usual smile, not forced or hiding anything and Ange relaxed at last.

“Apparently, this owl is black. It’s a sign of something bad and I have to figure out what it is, that’s all, something will turn up, it always does. Now, why are you here?”

“I’m meeting my cousin. He phoned me late last night and wanted to meet me. We’ve not been close lately, he’s gone off in a bit of a weird phase and I’m leaving him to it for now. He’ll sort himself out, I’m sure.”

“Well, as soon as he turns up, I’ll get off and leave you to catch up then.”

“Speak of the devil.” Ange said and nodded her head towards the front of the cafe.

Dusty turned to see who she was looking at and the young man that was opening the door to the cafe shocked Dusty. He was a good looking young man, perhaps a year or so younger than his cousin and he was handsome – or would have been if he wasn’t so deathly pale and drawn.

He was dressed completely in black and though it was a beautiful sunny day that promised to be one of the warmest so far this year, the boy was wearing a long black leather coat with a polo shirt under it. The black made his features more haggard than they would have seemed if they had been framed by other colours.

She immediately thought of the Matrix film and she began to smile until she saw the boy’s aura. It was as black as his coat and swirled around him like oil swirls in water. It clung to him in places and then separated from him again as the slick of the malign aura moved and eddied in a sluggish vortex.

Dusty whispered to Ange, “I’m staying with you.”

Ange would perhaps have protested a few months earlier, but after Dusty’s confession of being half-demon, Ange no longer second-guessed her. Ange knew that Dusty was staying put for a reason and she became concerned for her cousin.