The Children of Black Annis

  Copyright 2018 Amy Cross

  All Rights Reserved

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, events, entities and places are either products of the author's imagination or are used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual people, businesses, entities or events is entirely coincidental.

  Kindle edition

  Dark Season Books

  First published in September 2012

  as part of Lupine Howl: The Complete Second Series.

  This edition: May 2018

  Far from London, Duncan and Jess encounter the mysterious Black Annis. Troubled by dark forces that lurk in the mist surrounding a remote town, Black Annis begins to draw both Duncan and Jess into her plans, while revealing deadly secrets about her own past.

  Soon, Duncan and Jess find themselves running for their lives. Black Annis has unleashed something terrible, and for Duncan in particular the past is about to come crashing into the present day. At the same time, the hunt for Excalibur takes a shocking turn and Jess finds herself trapped in a vast, world-spanning library where death lurks around every corner.

  The Children of Black Annis is the third book in the Lupine Howl series. Originally published in serial format in 2012, this revised edition brings together parts nine, ten, eleven and twelve of the story and ends on a cliffhanger.

  Table of Contents

  Part One

  Black Annis

  Part Two

  Mariner

  Part Three

  The Children of Herne

  Part Four

  Broken Spirits

  The Children of Black Annis

  (Lupine Howl book 3)

  Part One

  Black Annis

  Prologue

  The Scottish Highlands - 1985.

  "No!" shouts Robert, pulling up short as his sister runs ahead into the midnight fog. He's been brave so far since he and his Megan snuck out of their parents' house, but now he wants to turn back. He wants to go home, get into bed and forget all about the kind of creatures that might be lurking on the moor.

  Megan stops and turns to him. "Are you scared?" she shouts, her voice filled with mocking humor. She's fourteen, two years older than her little brother, and she wants to go out exploring. Life in their little town is dull, and she craves excitement. "What's wrong," she asks, "are you worried Dad'll stop your pocket money?"

  "I'm not worried about anything!" Robert shouts back at her. "I just think it's stupid to go running about on the moors late at night when -"

  Megan waits for him to continue. "When what?" she shouts back. She looks around, at the dense white mist that surrounds them. "Are you scared of monsters? There's nothing here but mist. It's exactly the same as it is during the daytime. You're perfectly happy to come up here during the daytime -"

  "It's different," Robert says, his voice a little weak.

  "It's not different," Megan replies, sighing. "It's exactly the same."

  "I'm not going out on the moors in the middle of the night," Robert says, hoping desperately that Megan will see sense and agree to go home. He needs her to go with him, because he's not sure of the way.

  Megan pauses. She and Robert are best friends as well as brother and sister, but sometimes she finds him infuriating. "So you really think it's that dangerous out here?" she asks cautiously.

  "Aye," Robert says. "I do."

  "And are you a man, Robert Ballatine?"

  Robert frowns. "What do you mean?"

  "You're twelve years old," Megan says, "but do you consider yourself to be an honorable and good man?"

  Robert pauses. "Aye," he says.

  "Well..." Megan smiles. "Wouldn't an honorable and good man run after a poor weak little girl and save her if she was to do something as stupid as run out onto the moors?" And with that, she turns and runs.

  "Wait!" Robert shouts, but it's too late and she's disappeared into the fog. "Ah... fuck it," says Robert, swearing the way he's heard his Dad swear, trying to make himself feel just a little older and tougher. He considers his options for a moment, and then he runs forward, hoping he can quickly prove a point to Megan and then get her to go home.

  "Robert!" Megan's voice calls out from the distance.

  "Where are you?" Robert shouts back. The fog is so thick and close, it's impossible to see more than a few feet ahead. It's like running in a void; there could be wolves and monsters all around, and Robert would have no idea. In the absence of proof, his imagination is working overtime. "Megan!"

  "Over here!" she shouts, seemingly from a completely different direction. "I've found something!"

  "Well un-find it!" he shouts back. "Can we please go home?"

  "Come and look!" Megan calls, again from another direction.

  "I can't find you!" Robert shouts.

  "I'm over here!" Megan replies, but it's still hard to get any idea of where, exactly, she is. It's as if her voice is just drifting through the mist.

  "I. Don't. Know. Where. You. Are!" Robert says through gritted teeth. He's scared and annoyed now.

  "I've found something," Megan calls. She sounds a little closer now. "There's someone here."

  Robert freezes. He can feel his heart racing in his chest now. "What do you mean, there's someone here?" he calls out.

  "There's a woman here," Megan replies. "She's hanging up her washing."

  Robert frowns, figuring Megan must have lost her mind. "Quit fucking about," he shouts. "There's no woman hanging up her washing on the moor in the middle of the night."

  He waits.

  No reply.

  "Megan!" he shouts.

  Nothing.

  Running forward a few paces, Robert squints as he scans the fog, trying to see something - anything - that might give him a clue about where Megan is. Slowly, he starts to make out a shape in the distance. The fog seems to clear, just for a moment, to reveal the faint outline of a huge, sprawling tree. But just as slowly as the fog cleared, it gets thicker again and the tree disappears.

  "Megan!" Robert shouts, running towards where he saw the tree. But he can't find anything. "Megan!" he shouts again, starting to panic. If this is a trick -

  Suddenly there's a scream.

  Robert turns, knowing immediately that it's Megan and that it's no joke.

  Another scream, but this time from a different direction.

  Robert spins around and, without another thought, runs into the fog. All thoughts of fear and monsters have vanished from his mind. All he can think about is that he's got to find his sister. She's in trouble. She needs him. Something in the fog has taken hold of her.

  Jess

  Today.

  Ahead of me, the lamb stops to chew on some leaves. It seems not to have noticed me at all; I guess it's not used to being targeted by wolves. I can take my time, get ready for the perfect kill. Creeping slowly and quietly through the long grass, I feel totally in my element: I can almost taste the lamb's blood, can almost feel its flesh being ripped apart as my fangs chew through its neck; and that's just the kill, before I get to dismantle its carcass and feast on its remains. Finally, with blood all around my muzzle, I'll find somewhere to rest and sleep off the huge meal.

  I'm close now, just a few meters away. It's hard to believe that the lamb hasn't noticed me, but I guess some animals are just dumber than others. The poor little creature, just moments from death, is completely focused on the pathetic leaves it's eating. As last meals go, it's not much. The lamb can't be older than six months, which means it probably hasn't experienced a very full life. Still, I can't be sympathetic. It's kill or be killed out here, and I need to eat. This is survival of the fittest, and right now I'm the fittest.

  Silence.


  The lamb looks up. It's heard something.

  I leap forward, but something's wrong. My hind legs are caught in something, and I fall short, collapsing with a thud onto the ground. The lamb turns and bolts, as I snarl and struggle to get my legs free. There's some kind of wire fence that's been left buried in the grass. I struggle and after a few seconds I'm loose, but that lamb is already far away. Determined not to be beaten, I race after it, feeling my heart pumping twice as fast as usual as I race across the open parkland.

  The lamb is already a dot in the distance, but I know I can out-run it. In some ways, this is a better way to make the kill. Perhaps I've been getting lazy, sneaking up on my targets when I should be pushing myself harder and harder. As I run, I can see that with every bound I'm catching up to the terrified creature. Soon I'm within a few meters and finally I launch myself through the air, landing firmly on the lamb's back and sinking my teeth deep into its neck. Blood spurts into my mouth as I drag the lamb to the ground, and with another quick bite of the jugular I've finished off any hope that the creature might have of escaping.

  I don't kill the lamb immediately, though. No, I make it suffer. I chew at its belly while it bleats in agony. It knows there's no point fighting any more, but it has no choice. Its instinct is to cry for help, to hope that someone will come and end the pain. Finally, as its plaintive cries become too much, I reach up and rip out its throat, almost severing the head from the body. The lamb falls silent and I return to its belly, pushing my snout deeper and deeper into the hot, wet blood that oozes around its liver and intestines.

  This is a fine meal.

  Suddenly I hear something in the distance. I look up, and my mood changes. With blood dripping from my muzzle, I look around. There's nothing to see, but I definitely heard something. I've learnt that it's wise not to be too relaxed out here on the parkland. There aren't many creatures that could cause me any serious problems, but there are still some things I'd rather not have track me down. Perhaps the smell of the lamb's blood has attracted the interest of other wolves. I listen, but there's nothing.

  Still...

  I know I heard something.

  Sniffing the air, I can detect no scent. That means there's nothing nearby, or... I turn and look away from the wind, which is blowing strong today. Something could be hiding downwind, relying on the weather to keep its scent from me until the last moment. I stare at the tall grass, which blows gently. Is there something in there, watching me? Have I gone from being the hunter, to being the hunter?

  I wait.

  I listen.

  I sniff the air.

  There's definitely something there, in the grass ahead of me. I -

  Suddenly it leaps out. Another wolf. It's him! I roll out of the way and he lands just behind me. Turning I snarl at him, but I know there's no chance he'll be scared. I also know he's not after the lamb. He wants me. So I turn and run. There's not much chance I can get away, but I have to try.

  Racing across the field, I have no time to look back and see if he's catching me. I made that mistake last time he caught me. I was running and running, and I glanced back and it was enough for him to catch me and pounce. This time I'll just run and run and run until I collapse, and hopefully by then he'll have fallen away. It's not much of a chance, but it's all I can do. I don't want him to catch me. I don't want him to ever -

  He lands on top of me, pulling me down. I try to scramble free, but he's got me pinned to the ground. Roughly getting on top of me, he stares down into my eyes and he shifts back into his human form. Those eyes drill into my own, desperately searching for the humanity I've been trying to suppress.

  "Jess!" he shouts, struggling to keep my on the ground. "You have to talk to me!"

  I wriggle in his grasp, determined to break loose. I don't mind hurting him, not if it's the only way I can get out of this mess. But he knows my strengths and weaknesses and he's got me pinned down too well. No matter what I try, I can't get up. Finally, as anger threatens to consume my body, I let out a roar and shift back into my human form. The roar becomes a scream, and eventually Duncan puts his hand over my mouth and leans in close.

  "Listen to me!" he shouts.

  I stop screaming, staring up into his face. It's a shock to be back in my human form after so long, but slowly I start to calm down. My heart's still racing, but I can feel my wolf side stepping back into the shadows. Damn it, this is what I was trying to avoid. Why did he have to do this to me? Doesn't he know why I just want to lose myself in the wolf world forever?

  "You have to listen to me," he says firmly, keeping his eyes fixed on mine. "You have to let me help you! Do you understand?" He stares at me, and then he slowly moves his hand from over my mouth. "Jess," he says, "do you understand what I'm saying?"

  "Of course I do," I say, out of breath. "I just don't like it very much."

  He smiles. "I need you," he says. "I need your help. I need you to accept what you really are, rather than just trying to be a wolf all the time. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

  "Yes!" I shout. Although part of me wants to fight, the rest of me knows that there's no point standing up to Duncan. No matter how determined I am, and no matter how strong, he's always going to be one step ahead. I can run again, but he'll just catch me. Eventually I'm going to have to surrender to him. It might as well be now. "What do you want?"

  "There's something wrong with you," he says.

  "There's not," I reply.

  "Yes there is," he insists. "You're trying to forget your human side. You've spent months out here, pretending you're just a normal wolf. You can't keep running. Whatever demons you're trying to keep out of your mind, they won't die until you've faced them."

  "Says the man with more demons than a metal gig," I reply.

  He smiles. "I need your help," he says again. "But first, I need to make sure you're head's on straight. I'm going to help you."

  I sigh. Why couldn't he have just let me stay as a wolf forever? When I'm a wolf, I don't have to think about things that hurt. I don't have to think about the past. "How are you going to help me?" I ask, a hint of sarcasm in my voice.

  The smile on his face breaks out to become a grin. "First," he says, "I'm going to take you on holiday."

  Black Annis

  I wait in the fog. There's no need to go out hunting, because I know that eventually my prey will come to me. After all, I don't need to feed very often; I can go years and years without a meal. And sooner or later, some unsuspecting soul will wander too close to my home, will see my outline in the void of the moor, and will stumble towards me. I don't even need to lift a finger. My victims always come to me.

  Tonight is no exception. I haven't fed for more than seventeen years, and I'm starting to feel a little hungry. I could go out onto the moors and find someone to eat, but why waste all that energy when they'll just wander into my trap of their own accord? And tonight I can hear someone nearby. Just one poor lost soul, alone on the moor at night, looking for home. The moor can be a confusing place at night when the fog closes in: everything becomes dark gray, and all sense of direction is lost.

  Eventually, they always stumble in my direction.

  "Hey!" calls out a voice. It's a girl. She sounds a little older than most of my victims, but that doesn't matter. What she lacks in tender young flesh, she'll make up for in size. I'm not picky.

  I carry on doing what I'm doing. There's no need to call out a response to her. All I need to do is wait and wait and wait, and soon she'll come towards me. They're always drawn in my direction after a while. I guess that's just the kind of person I am.

  "Hey!" she calls out again. She's closer now. I can't help but smile as I imagine her stepping towards me. Has she spotted my outline in the gloom yet? It doesn't really matter: she's already lost. I have no mercy; I don't even know what the word means. It's simply a matter of fact: when she gets too close, she's lost. There's no escape, not once you're in my domain.

  "Hello!" she calls. She's much close
r this time, and I can tell that she's spotted me. Turning slowly, I see a faint outline in the fog. She's ten, maybe fifteen meters away and moving towards me fast. She's probably been lost out here on the moor for hours, and now she thinks she's found someone who can rescue her. That's how it always works: a little moment of hope right before the end.

  "Can you help me?" she asks as she gets closer. As she emerges from the fog, I see that she's a blonde girl, maybe late teens, wearing not much more than a short skirt and a bikini top. She must have been going to one of the pubs in the nearby town. God knows how she ended up out here, lost and alone, but she must be freezing cold.

  "What are you doing out here?" I ask, stepping towards her.

  "I had an argument with my boyfriend," she says, glancing over her shoulder. "I don't know where he's gone. He's probably fucked off home."

  "You must be so cold," I say, looking at her bare shoulders and arms. Tender flesh, reading to be eaten.

  "Can you call me a taxi?" she asks.

  "I..." I pause. No-one's never asked me for that before. "Of course," I say. "Why don't you come inside while you wait?" I usher her towards my home, but she holds back as we get closer.

  "You live under a tree?" she says, sounding as if she doesn't believe it.

  "I know it's a little unusual," I say, "but it suits my needs."

  She smiles uneasily, looking around. "You've got a lot of washing hanging up," she says.

  "Yes," I say, stifling a grin. "It's hard to get things to dry in this weather."

  "Huh," the girl replies.

  "What's your name?" I ask as I lead her towards the tree.

  "Becca," she says. "Becca Ravensworth. What's your name?"

  "Annis," I say, deciding to keep things simple. "I've got other names, though. Agnes is one of them. To be honest, I lose track of what people call me. It gets confusing, and I don't really give it much thought."