Page 38 of Back in the Hunt

“It’s almost as good as going back to the Old World,” Merlin whispered dramatically. “Abog, in the heart of Virginia’s most isolated and untouched wilderness. Too bad it’s also a magnet for scientists and hikers,” he said with a snort. “Hugh was never an outdoorsman, though, and thought of himself as an elder statesman and a sage. We’re looking for a temple in the woods, nottoo faroff the beaten path and one that won’t draw too much attention.”

The three of them chatted up the locals in the gas station and the general store and the rangers at the park and it didn’t take long to find their quarry. “Hugh Douglas” was a retired conservative lobbyist and an avid hunter. Hugh had developed a small, forgotten parcel of land that he had inherited from a distant relative about twenty years ago. He kept mostly to himself but occasionally hosted old friends from the Beltway.

There was an undeveloped access road out to Hugh’s place, but it was most likely being monitored so they had chosen to hike in from the opposite direction. Nox had spotted a designated camping area on the bend of a creek, just about a quarter of a mile away from Hugh’s house.

“Not surprised about that,” Bryn said, noting the American flag waving proudly on its post and the Trump banner hanging over the porch rail.

Merlin’s face pinched as he shook his head. “He’s blending in. I bet that if you ask any of his neighbors, they’ll tell you he’s agoodupstanding citizen who just likes to keep to himself. No one expects evil if they believe his values align with theirs,” he said with a pointed look.

He was definitely winded and Merlin’s golden hiking ensemble was wilted and wrinkled. The sheer, shiny blouse and balloon pants had deflated, clinging to his wiry frame and making him look even smaller. He’d taken off his short velvet “hiking cape” about an hour after they set out and his little round head was dripping with sweat.

Despite Merlin’s and Nox’s insistence that he abhorred physical exertion of any kind and preferred the role of spectator, when it came to athletics, the old man had surprised Bryn. He scrambled over boulders and leapt over obstacles with relative ease, occasionally allowing Nox or Bryn to lift him or give him a hand up when they reached more advanced hazards.

Bryn had expected to be slowed down when they set off just after sunrise and had planned for more rest stops or to carry Merlin parts of the way. But Merlin understood that taking your time was always the smartest approach and the golden rule of hiking. In Bryn’s book, at least, so he was feeling conflicted when they reached Hugh’s cabin just before noon.

“We might make it back to Georgetown tonight after all,” he murmured, wrinkling his nose. “Not that I’m in a rush. Take your time,” he added and Merlin snorted at the cabin across the pasture.

“The sooner we get this over with and return to civilization, the better. I just need to freshen up. I can’t face Hugh Dùbhghlas in this state,” he said in a low, scornful mutter.

“Do you think he knows we’re coming or why?” Bryn asked Merlin as he turned from the cabin and went to his bag. Nox hadplaced it on a moss-covered tree stump and the Thermos of tea sat next to it.

Merlin shook his head as he reached for the tea. “The element of surprise only lasts as long as the arrival. He will know we are there because we are, whether we maintain the element of mystery depends upon you. I can spin any lie I wish but Hugh will know we’re inquiring about a particular brand of mischief if we have a soulchaserwith us,” he explained.

“Noted,” Bryn said with a wince, then nodded at Nox. “What’re you thinking?” he asked as they turned, giving Merlin some privacy while they planned their approach.

Nox’s eyes were narrowed and focused on the cabin. “How do you feel about snakes?” he asked and Bryn’s face fell.

“Why…?”

“There’s an…odor,” Nox said, sniffing at the air.

Bryn took a long sniff and caught a melange of faint, albeit particular smells: propane and charcoal and burned wood, an extensive herb garden, a whiff of sulfur, melted metals… He smelled other dogs and the fauna of the forest, but nothing overwhelmingly serpentine.

“What is it?” Bryn asked nervously. Hehatedsnakes.

“Snake worship,” Nox whispered back, his face scrunching. “But not the cool kind of snake worship.”

That earned a confused look from Bryn but Nox waved it off. “Snakes can mean lots of good things and who doesn’t love an ouroboros? This is dark and demonic. You smell that sulfur?”

Bryn nodded. “Demons. Do you think there will be actual snakes?” he asked Nox and he grimaced.

“I think that half the attraction of snake worship is getting to hold them and have them as cool props. The Hindus have cows but you don’t see them dancing around with heifers on their backs and waving them at people, you know?”

There was a softclick!behind them and Bryn heard Merlin dusting his hands. “I believe I am ready,” he declared as Bryn and Nox turned back to him.

He was indeed ready, sporting a midnight blue velvet suit and cape. Stars and moons were embroidered on the fabric and his cane was topped with a large chunk of black kyanite. The cane looked more like a witch’s broom with the dark, jagged crystal cluster and its ancient rowan and winding willow staff.

“Looking sharp, Merlin,” Nox said as he offered his arm.

“Thank you, lad.”

The three of them strolled through the clearing with Nox pointing out various trees and admiring the area around them.

“That bog isn’t far from here, just a mile or two that way,” he said, his finger swinging to the right. “Dad brought me up to Beartown to see it when I was a kid,” he said, making Merlin chuckle wryly.

“I told you, Hugh chose this place for that bog. Too many tourists willing to risk their necks to see it, unfortunately, so this is as close as he dared to get.”

Bryn paused and spun when he caught a very strong odor on the breeze. It smelled like alargewet dog. “Still plenty of bear,” he said with a grin. “Bet that keeps the faint of heart away.”

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