Bowman jumped to his feet, quickly drawing his wings close to his back once more. The aerial view cut suddenly to a view from the ground, and his eyes widened. He knew exactly where it was. It was hard to tell thanks to the fuzzy quality of the recording, but he would recognize the slightly bent trunk of one of the birch trees in the background anywhere, with or without blood splattered on it. Bowman knew the forest better than anyone.
The area was a little secluded, farther from where the humans were supposed to camp, according to what Jacob had told him. It was a little more than half a mile from where he'd met Sam and Dean. Bowman couldn't remember the exact measurement, but he'd be able to fly from one spot to the other without hesitation or confusion on the direction. The map in his head was carefully put together after tireless months of work.
"That's...!" he began, whipping his gaze to the side to look at Sam. "Where were the other attacks?" he asked urgently. He had a sudden suspicion. The wolf they had seen that day being near the boulder, and now this attack inspired new paranoia in Bowman. It was only two occurrences, but the line they made pointed closer to the fence, and thus closer to the village beyond it. If the other attacks confirmed this pattern, then at this rate the village was in much closer danger than he'd originally thought. No one would be prepared for a regular wolf to zero in on the village, let alone one that crawled back to life.
"Uhh..." Sam said, shocked at the sudden intensity directed at him. The urgency in Bowman's voice compelled him to swallow down any questions he had for the sprite. They could wait.
Sam twisted in place, taking a few strides towards Dean. He could remember where the attacks were, but a visual aid would be better. "Dean! Didn't you have a map of all the recent attacks?"
Dean gave a slight jump at the question. He'd been caught up in the news report. "Yeah, I was working on it before we went to the forest. Stand back."
With quick movements, Dean cleared off the table of their dinner remains. The last few slices of pizza and the salad went in the mini-fridge for later, the rest got tossed. All that remained on the table was his tiny brother, the sprite and the laptop, which Dean opened up in case they needed it. With cautious movements Dean unfolded the map he had of the area, aware of where Sam and Bowman were the entire time and making sure they were out of the way before opening up more folds in the map. Once he was finished he pointed to where the attacks had been marked in red.
"This is all the other attacks up until today. I should be able to get the coordinates for this last attack online if I do a little digging."
Bowman wasn't sure if he'd be able to read the paper map. Even as Dean's massive hands flattened out the folds, he frowned faintly. The details on the map were drawn in thin, sprawling lines, and he could not for the life of him recognize what they were supposed to represent. Even so, he stepped cautiously onto the map, peering around. It was interesting, walking on partially-creased paper. It rustled beneath his boots with a dry sound that reminded him faintly of autumn leaves.
He crouched to run a hand over one of the thick red X shapes that Dean had pointed out. It stood out against the thin black grid lines, and the other many colored lines that squiggled and snaked across the wide page. It was still quite chaotic. He absently traced one of his fingers along a slightly thicker grey line. "Is this the edge of the woods?" he asked aloud, glancing up at Dean. He hardly waited for any confirmation before standing up straighter to get a wider view again.
After a few more seconds of staring and trying to decipher the map, Bowman sighed in frustration. "This map doesn't mean much to me," he finally admitted. "I know where that picture was made, but I don't know how to find it on this." He pointed in the vague direction of the TV, which still showed footage of the decimated campsite while someone discussed the previous attacks. He scuffed his boot absently over one of the red marks. Marks that supposedly represented more tainted areas of the forest, hisforest, where that corruption might linger still.
"I could fly straight there if I were back home. That spot, the one they just showed in the, uh, movie thing, that's a little farther into the woods than the place you found me. That wolf must have picked up those other humans' scents and moved inward... closer to the fence."
Sam listened to Bowman's words with half an ear. Something on the news report was bothering him. Most of the dark shapes that had been darting about had faded into the forest so quickly that he couldn't be sure they were really there, but one remained, motionless as the shadow of a tree. Everyone there was ignoring it, as though it was supposed to be there or like they couldn't see it. He frowned faintly, bothered.
Once the report was over and Godzilla vs. Mothra came back on, Sam walked onto the map with Bowman. "It was worth a shot," he sighed. "At least, if you know where it is you can take us there tomorrow." That said, he still couldn't shake the odd feeling that shadowed shape had given him. Sam went over to the laptop Dean had switched back on. "Is there anyway you can bring that news report up on the screen?" he asked.
Dean arched an eyebrow but didn't question the request. Sam was often able to pick up on details he overlooked. "Sure," he said. He pulled the laptop closer so he could reach the keyboard, slightly over the map. After only a few minutes of searching, the same report was on the screen, playing through silently.
"There! Stop it!" Sam shouted excitedly.
Pausing the video, Dean peered intently at the screen. Sam climbed onto the keyboard, stepping nimbly over the keys. He pointed at a dark shape in the woods, glancing over his shoulder to make sure Dean could see what he saw.
"Yeah..." Dean said, leaning in. "What is that?"
A few more seconds of fiddling around with the laptop, and he zeroed in on whatever it was. "What the hell...?" Dean muttered.
The shape was almost completely black, pulling in all the light around it. But up where a head would normally be, there was a faint outline of a skull, with glittering eyes that stared out at its verdant surroundings.
Bowman inched up to the machine, watching it intently. Somehow the same images that had just been on the other device were on this smaller screen. Suddenly Bowman got an understanding for why Sam was worried about one picture. It hadn't even been a challenge for Dean to summon up the same moving images.
He kept clear of Dean's arms, ready to duck out of the way if the human made any wide gestures. Just getting bumped into by accident would be a lot of trouble for him or Sam. And Dean was pretty big, even for a human. Jacob was still one of the biggest humans Bowman had ever seen, but Dean wasn't that far behind.
Bowman could feel the faint heat radiating off of the brightly-lit machine, and he heard whirring inside of it. He supposed it'd be fascinating to see how it worked on the inside some day. But for now, he stood next to it and leaned over slightly so he could see what Sam and Dean were looking at without actually stepping onto the thing.
That dark shape came with a sense of obvious foreboding. It clearly couldn't be human. Bowman was no expert but he was pretty sure all humans needed to have more than just skulls sitting on their shoulders to continue the stomping around they were so fond of. It was the surest bet that this thing, whatever it was, was the source of all the magic bringing animals back to life and leaving its disgusting, twisted aura behind. The ominous figure needed to be stopped.
Tomorrow. We won't go back until tomorrow and in the meantime, that thing is there and no one knows about it. And the blasted wolves are getting closer, he thought, taking a few deep breaths to stave of his worries. It almost worked. Bowman stood back and ran both hands through his wild, dark green hair. His eyes were faraway.
"N-no one except me knows that thing is out there," he said weakly. "If I have to wait, then fine. But tomorrow, when I take you to that spot, I need to go and warn someone about what's going on. I'll come back, because I want to get rid of it, too, but ... I can't risk them being unprepared. My family is out there." His voice was heavy with worry, and he almost feared what they would say to his earnest request.
Godzilla rampaged in the background, ignored by the room's occupants. The brothers shared a look at Bowman's statement. It was clear in the scowl etched in the lines on Dean's face the last thing he wanted was to let Bowman, an unknown, out of sight. This time, Sam found himself in disagreement with his brother.
"If he's right, Dean, there's an entire village of innocents out there," Sam said quietly. He knew Dean would listen to him, even when he disagreed completely. "We can't put them at risk just to keep an eye on Bowman."
The silence stretched between them while Dean debated with himself. Sam was right... it was just hard to admit. He hated trusting their lives to an unknown entity.
In the end, Dean decided to trust Sam's instincts. They hadn't lead the brothers astray yet. Resting an arm on the table near Bowman, Dean leaned down so he could meet the sprites bright green eyes with his own. Bowman tensed, but didn't flinch away. He stood his ground, even as a huge, intense face filled his vision. His wings opened slightly and closed again, almost an automatic reaction. Even with Dean lowering his head so much, Bowman had to tilt his head back to look the human in the eyes as he addressed him.
"Do what you have to do to keep your family safe. But without you it's gonna be a lot harder to take this thing down, whatever it is, so we're counting on you to come back."
There were a number of snarky things Bowman could say. He hadn't exactly missed the short conversation with Sam. Bowman could have had a derisive comment about Dean still acting like the sprite was a culprit in all of this. But instead, he nodded once. "Thank you." The words, simple as they were, were filled with gratitude beyond what the simple phrase could convey.
His relief was almost immediately noticeable. Bowman's shoulders, while still tense, didn't carry as much uncertainty as before. He knew as well as Dean that if the human wanted to hold him back, he could and would. So it was reassuring to hear that Dean was going to allow him to leave long enough to make sure someone knew the wolves in the forest were not staying dead. There were no warriors among the sprites that could combat this, so they needed to know as soon as possible to be ready to flee.
"I'll have to come back anyway, if I want to get to the bottom of this," he continued, taking a few steps back so he wasn't so close to Dean's face. "If nothing else, I have to make sure you don't go stomping where you shouldn't." Not to mention that Dean was far better equipped to actually fight those atrocities than any sprite. A well-placed Prayer might unravel the twisted magic keeping them alive, but that would mean putting another sprite in danger. Bowman couldn't even consider that.
Dean smirked at Bowman's proclamation, unable to contain his amusement. "You do that, small fry," he jabbed as he leaned back in his chair.
Once he was sure Dean and Bowman weren't going to start arguing again, Sam turned his attention back to the laptop. The page was still frozen on the dark figure in the trees. Something about its face was ringing a bell in his head. "Dean?" he asked. "You mind if I use the laptop for a minute?"
Dean shifted so his arm wasn't resting on the keyboard and blocking Sam's access. "Feel free," he said. "Why, you got something?" Curious, he leaned in as Sam came over to the touch pad.
"Maybe, not sure. Just something familiar about that figure." Sam knelt down, switching over to an internet search.
Bowman was quickly drawn into fascination again when Sam knelt to touch a square indent in the base of the computer. He inched up to the machine, skirting around Dean's arm. Critical eyes spared the human's large hand one glance before he focused on the lit up screen. Dean hadn't grabbed him since Sam warned him not to, and Dean had just given his permission for Bowman to warn his home. He would, for now, afford the human some trust in return.
Hesitantly, Bowman stepped up onto the computer, too. He stayed near the corner, avoiding the buttons arrayed on most of the lower surface. But he watched with interest as Sam navigated them. As the small human worked, symbols of human writing appeared in a box on the screen. Bowman could feel the machine humming beneath his feet, like some kind of living thing in constant motion. It produced a warmth that he could feel through the soles of his boots.
"What are you doing?" he finally asked. Sam's careful dance atop the buttons, while fascinating, didn't have an obvious purpose that Bowman could see. But his eyes flicked back to the screen when Sam stepped on a larger button towards the side of the arrangement of buttons. It changed, leaving the old image behind in favor of lines of blue and black text.
Sam paused in his web search to glance over at Bowman. "I'm doing a search. Trying to find a way to relate what we saw there," he gestured vaguely at the TV, "with 'hordes of the undead.' " Sam turned back to the laptop, clicking a link. "And I think I know what we're dealing with."
"And what's that, Sammy?" Dean asked, leaning in a little to peer at the screen.
Sam crossed his arms and his expression darkened into a thoughtful frown as he regarded the image on the screen. "It's a lich. One of the more powerful undead that exist, it was originally a magician or wizard, maybe a sorcerer, someone with powerful magic of their own, that was searching out immortality hundreds of years ago. This goal is realized when they take their soul and bind to an object - a phylactery, it's called."
Dean was reading from the screen now. " 'Not only are they undead themselves, they have the ability to raise and control other undead.' Like those wolves, I'm betting."
Sounds like a disease, Bowman thought. All through their explanation, he developed a sinking feeling, making him sick to his stomach. A disease, with one abomination creating more and more, spreading that twisted magic further. And his forest home, the place he'd always felt safe and happy, was infected.
He scratched his head while he thought about it. The blocky text on the screen was not easily legible to him, but there were a few images accompanying it. None were very pleasant. The task seemed so daunting. "That's ... that's a lot of magic," he finally determined, his brow knitting with concern. He crossed his arms. "Even one wolf had a lot of that energy around it."
He sat down on the edge of the computer, stretching his legs out and resting his heels on the tabletop. His frown was both worried and annoyed. "I don't think even the most spiritually connected sprite could keep up with that. We're just not meant to channel that much all at once. And I'm, uh, not the best at Praying. I barely made that wolf trip today, and I'm not even sure that was me." He turned to look up at Dean. "You've got to have something that can fix it," he insisted, though it sounded more like he was asking, pleading for there to be some solution. "Life should not be corrupted like that."
Dean couldn't help a small jump of surprise when the little sprite addressed him directly. "Ah..." he said, trying to regain his equilibrium. Most of Sam's people, aside from a select few, had trouble talking to him at all, or even looking him in the eye most of the time. Bowman had almost nothing in common with them, aside from the similar size. His nervousness showed itself in a completely different way. And he had enough snark inside him to match Dean. "That's what we're here for. Neither of us is leaving 'til this thing is gone, and everybody's safe."
Hearing that Bowman was the reason the wolf had tripped, giving Dean his chance to get his gun out, made him relax a little more. They really did need Bowman's help, after all. If he could be trusted, he'd make this hunt go a thousand times smoother, especially since Dean wasn't in his element out in the woods. By contrast, Bowman looked like he could have grown right out of one of the trees, with those leafy wings.
Gesturing at Sam, who was continuing to intently read the screen, Dean went on. "That's what the two of us do. We try to help as many people as we can by getting rid of as many of these unnatural sons of bitches as we can." And with any luck Sam can find a weakness that this creep has...
As though he was reading Dean's mind, Sam stepped away, glancing over at Bowman. For a moment he seemed surprised to see the sprite actually sitting on the keyboard, as though he'd already forgotten. It was a strange juxtaposition, Bowman's forest look resting on the human technology so casually. Sam gave himself a brief shake, then focused. "Looks like this creep has a weakness, if we can find it," he announced. "That phylactery that his soul is bound to - if we can find it and smash it, the lich dies. The magic holding the wolves together unravels and all we'll need to do is burn the remains of the lich to wash its unnatural substance away."
Dean grinned. "Now that sounds like a plan."
Bowman cringed slightly. Burning the remains ... it sounded foul. Not to mention the wood sprites didn't like fire very much in general. Bowman had thought that being near a campfire was bad. A fire big enough to get rid of a human-sized body? He'd have to witness that from a distance, if at all.
It would be better to focus on getting to that point. He wouldn't need to worry about a fire until he'd gotten rid of those abominations. Bowman looked between the brothers. "How will we know if we found this, uh, phy-lac-ter-y?" he asked, enunciating the strange word slowly. "Will it have the same magic on it as the wolf? If this thing knows it's a weakness, maybe it won't be so easy to just break it."
Bowman pictured something fairly sturdy. Smashing it would be difficult for him and Sam regardless. And in the meantime, Dean would almost certainly have to deal with a whole pack of wolves that hadn't been permitted to stay dead. He was a strong human, but that was a lot of animals, each with plenty of experience hunting single preys.
He sighed faintly. "That wolf being by itself was a little strange. We got lucky today," he muttered to himself, almost lost in thought. He combed his hand back through dark green locks, thinking that a pack of undead wolves would be a formidable foe against one sprite, a human, and a sprite-sized human. It was times like this that could make him really wish he'd practiced Praying more often.
Sam was just as concerned. "From what I saw, a phylactery can be almost anything if the wizard or sorcerer is strong enough. Most that I saw recorded tended to be something either inconspicuous and easy to overlook or something that was important to the lich in life." Pursing his lips, Sam thought back over the last day and all they'd been able to learn. Finding the blood trail, happening upon Bowman, getting attacked... so much had happened in a short time it was hard to keep it all straight.
He turned to Bowman, for the moment ignoring the question of how they'd break the phylactery in favor of how to find it. If they couldn't find it, it wouldn't matter how durable it was. "You said you could sense the energy holding the wolf together, right? Whatever magic the lich used to bind its soul to an object should be similar. Monsters don't usually change their tricks. Do you think when we get back to the forest you'd be able to find the source?"
Bowman hesitated, and then nodded slowly. "I think I might be able to find it. There was this heavy feeling in the air around the boulder and coming off that wolf. If it's really the same energy, then it would be hard to miss." The feeling had grated against him even after the wolf had run off. Whatever it was made of, that energy offended the Spirit deeply. The connection to Her was enough to make Bowman uncomfortable just being around it. He wondered how a more spiritually-inclined sprite would respond to it, if even he could feel how wrong the energy was.
It was alarming how powerful the magic had to be. Bringing one wolf back to life stretched his imagination, but raising an entire pack from the dead? With as many attacks as there had been, there must be several wolves out there, forced back among the living.
Bowman suddenly wondered if he should be glad that Sam and Dean had found him after all. If they hadn't come along, the wolves could have moved a lot closer to the village before anyone knew. And by then, it might be too late to evade the monstrous things. Why'd that stupid lich have to pick his forest? "The only problem is I might just lead us to more wolves instead of being on the right trail." And Spirit save them if they were surrounded. He'd be bombarded on all sides by that foul magic.
Dean gave a cocky grin. "One or two wolves shouldn't be a problem." He patted his jacket, where his handgun was tucked away out of sight. "I came prepared to take out a few zombie wolves. If you lead us to a pack or that thing, we'll figure it out. This is what we do all the time."
His glance turned to Sam. "Honestly, all I'm worried about is you getting caught in the crossfire," he admitted worriedly, the cocky grin on his face fading at a vision of Sam caught in the middle of a fight with giant wolves or a walking skeleton. That wasn't a reassuring thought, by far. Sam might be quick on his feet or the fastest to figure out a problem, but if he came up against Godzilla-sized wolves, none of that would matter if they got their teeth around him.
Naturally, Sam waved his worries off. "I'll be fine," he insisted. "We need to worry about more innocents getting wrapped up in this, not me. I know what I'm getting into here, and it's not like I'm completely unprepared." Sam gestured back up at Dean. "After all, I've got you for backup."
Sam turned to Bowman. "Well, if we want to get out to the forest as early as possible tomorrow, we should probably turn in. I don't think we should waste a second of daylight."
Dean yawned, giving his arms a huge stretch. "Yeah, you're probably right, pipsqueak."
A/N
Light blood cw.
The monster is revealed! A lich lurks the forest. The boys have a map of all the attacks... too bad Bowman can't read human things XD Whoopsie.
Next: February 12th
Remember, reviews are love!
And I'm really not feeling any love over here. Is there a reason this story doesn't get any reviews? It has three, and it's on its 9th chapter. If I didn't have my few wonderfully devoted followers here, I probably wouldn't even bother posting on this site anymore.
I'm just feeling down. I'm tired and jaded. Work has been awful for months now and I'm exhausted and I just hope people enjoy this story but it's very hard to tell since I'm not getting much feedback. A lot of work went into this.
