Page 6 of Woodland Web

“Well, what do you think?” I asked.

“I’m looking up the sluagh right now. I assume you haven’t had time to research,” he said, squinting at the screen.

“Right. I was thinking we could search the databases here to see if there’s any lore on them. Also, we can’t consult Rowan. If the Court Magika finds out that the Fae have lost track of a dangerous member of the sub-Fae, then there’s going to be trouble. And if I leak it, then Briar’s going to be on my ass about it. I don’t want to make the Overkings angry.” I frowned. “It would help if I knew what the sluagh looks like.”

Tad worried his lip, deep in his search. “I’m looking.”

“I’m getting some coffee. January, want some?” Caitlin stood, heading toward the break room. Tad had outfitted it to fit my suggestions when we first looked at the place.

“Thanks, but I’m still finishing my latte.” I held up my cup.

“I’ve never dealt with the Fae except on the periphery of other issues,” Hank said. “They’re cunning and quick to twist words and meanings.” He grimaced and I had the feeling he was still feeling guilty for being the cause of this whole situation. I not only needed their help, but this would go a long ways to finally settling all the disruption caused by our ill-fated attempt to hunt down Bigfoot on Hank’s insistence.

“That they are,” I said. “Maybe you can help me. I spoke to Rebecca because I remember how hypnotic Briar was. She suggested that I maybe wear something with iron in it?—”

“No, that would be a big mistake. Yes, it would keep them away from you, but Briar would take it as a huge insult if you even came near him with iron.”

“She also suggested peppermint and mugwort tea.”

“That will help. We can stop him from getting his hooks in you, but wearing iron? Bad idea.” He leaned back and folded his arms across his chest.

“I thought so,” I said. “I told her I wasn’t going to wear iron.”

“Got it!” Tad turned his laptop around so we could see. “I found this in the database of one of the sites overseen by Urban Legends.” Urban Legends was an umbrella group for several organizations like Conjure Ink. Tad had pulled it together so we could all combine our info and build an amazing library of events and creatures.

The screen showed several terrifying pictures. The creature in question was short and squat, with spindly legs that looked too thin to hold up the barrel-shaped torso. The arms were long and spindly as well, and the body reminded me of Fungus out of Monsters, Inc. The sluagh’s mottled, tan torso was partly squishy, partly fuzzy, and the creature had one central eye, like a cyclops. Inside of its gash of a mouth, sharp, needle-like teeth glistened.

“How tall is it?” Caitlin asked, before I had the chance.

“It says here that this one was about five feet tall. I’ve found several accounts mentioning their height range as between four to five feet or so. They are rarely seen, and the last known encounter—when these pictures were taken—was from 1974. Apparently, the Fae have gotten better at keeping them away from human society.” Tad enlarged the article, which was taken from a microfiche copy of a magazine. “This account comes from June 8, 1974. It was printed in a journal called Everyday Myths & Monsters that went out of business in 1992.”

Janet and Tyler Mason never expected to be attacked by a sluagh—one of the Celtic sub-Fae—when they were driving home to their farm in Terameth Lake. At eleven p.m., as they passed by Hell’s Thicket, their car broke down. The couple got out to walk to the nearest gas station, but they had walked for no more than about five minutes when a creature broke through the bushes and made straight for them.

The creature was approximately five feet tall, and the body spread out from the spindly legs into a barrel-shaped torso, with long branch-like arms, a central eye that was as big as a human child’s head, and tufts of hair between the legs. It was impossible to tell if there were genitals, so the sex of the creature was unknown.

However, the gaping mouth below the eye was wide and thin, with several rows of needle-shaped teeth. Before they could take another step, the creature gave chase and took down Tyler. It bit through his jugular before he could fight it off. Janet managed to climb a nearby tree, and the creature seemed unable to follow her, so it shambled off into the forest after eating part of Tyler’s side and chest.

A police officer responded to reports of screams and they found her in the tree. She managed to describe the creature to them before sliding into unconsciousness. When she regained consciousness, she was mute, and eventually, though doctors did their best to work with her, she slid into a state of catatonia. She was committed to a long-term care facility, where she eventually died. She never regained her awareness, and the only evidence police had, with regards to Tyler’s death, was the account she had been able to give them and the pictures on her camera that she had taken before the creature attacked Tyler.

The autopsy exonerated her from any part in his death, and while some people thought a cougar had attacked them, the coroner said no large animal he knew of could cause that kind of damage and leave bite marks in the shape that they found on Tyler’s torso. The case remains open to this day.

“How do they know it was a sluagh?” Caitlin asked.

Tad scanned the rest of the article. “Apparently, this group of paranormal investigators went in, thinking it was some sort of demon. They were actually ghost hunters, but they quickly discovered that the creature hadn’t left—it was still there. They encountered it on the second day of their investigation, and it damned near killed the entire team. They got away, but every one of them was injured, and it turns out one of the Overkings—the Fae—saved them. The Fae managed to subdue the sluagh, and he warned the team to get the hell out of there. He let slip what they were fighting.”

“And they got a picture of it,” I said.

“Right. The other cases—the few there are—have similar stories,” Tad said, leaning back in his chair.

“Well,” I said. “Are you with me? Are we going to go sluagh hunting?”

Hank laughed. “You know we’re in, January. Now, time to figure out how to find it, where to find it, and what to do with it.”

Just like that, I was back at work.

CHAPTER FOUR

We spent the afternoon reading over every reference we could find to the sluagh. I thought of trying to contact Briar for more information, but that would only indebt me further. Maybe I could cadge more out of him when we met on Sunday, if I was careful.

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