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The Supernatural characters belong to Kripke Enterprises and the CW, not me. No money is being made from this story. It is for entertainment only.
The Dark Fae
Chapter 11
Approaching Human
From Chapter 10
Dean ran his hands over the smooth curve of the roof, intrigued. "You are going to show me how to feed it and take care of it?"
Sam smiled. He could see the flare of interest in his partner's eyes.
"What about you, Sam?" Bobby asked. "You need to know how to drive it and how to take care of the basics too."
Sam nodded. "No problem, I will learn. I think, however, you will find that Dean will be more interested in how it works. He's the one that is good with pets."
"This isn't a pet," Bobby smiled.
Now Sam laughed out loud. "Show Dean. I think the description will fit well in a very short time.
Chapter 11
Bobby opened the door of the Impala and sat down. "Sam, Dean," he said "I need to know a couple of things about you two. First of all, I know you both speak English, obviously but do you also know how to read and write? How far are we going to have to go to get you guys to pass as human?"
Dan was still fascinated by the automobile, running his hands along the fenders and caressing the hood. He poked his fingers under an edge and managed to pop the hood open, exposing the engine.
The half Fae froze. First in surprise at the sudden rising of the hood, which he automatically grabbed to halt the precipitous climb and then his mouth fell open as he gawked at what he had found.
Bobby smiled. "I see what you mean," he said to Sam and pulled his way out of the car. Dean's eyes immediately focused on Bobby's hand griping the roof. Bobby caught the grimace. "Hell, boy, I'm not hurting the car."
The elder Hunter pulled his way out and walked to the front by the now open hood. He flicked a red rag out of his back pocket and handed it off the Dean. "Here, this is your official grease rag." Bobby snorted, 'Now, pay attention."
Sam listened for a few minutes as Bobby Singer explained the theory and action of the internal combustion engine to Sam's partner. The tall Elf kept up for a while. He enjoyed the explanation of how the explosive power of burning gases was transmitted from the plunging pistons and converted through something called a cam shaft to power the forward motion of the automobile.
Dean was entranced and hanging on every word. He looked like he was receiving some form of mystic revelation. Sam left them to it and wandered off as soon as he was sure they would not notice his disappearance. When words like spark plug, oil filter and distributor cap began to be bandied about he drifted off.
Back in the house the Elf found his way to Bobby's library and pulled down some books he had noticed before. He realized they had not answered Bobby's question earlier. Sam settled into Bobby's desk chair and began to read not only English but also some of the most ancient of languages. Elves had been around for a very long time. Bobby had no idea how old his visitors really were. They had the appearance of young men just out of their teens but the centuries had rolled by for both Volundr and Ólafr and those centuries had not been entirely spent in chasing prey through the rolling hills of Elfhame.
Sam wanted to know just exactly how much he could expect these men called Hunters to know about the Fae; both the strengths and the weaknesses of Volundr's people.
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The tall Elf moved from volume to volume; pulling book after book off Bobby's shelves. He was following a trail in the human library, unearthing the legends and warnings about the Fae world. Some was fanciful or outright wrong but here and there a shining nugget of truth appeared. Buried in the text was the knowledge that silver or iron could be used every effectively against the Fae. He would have to protect Ólafr from those kinds of threats.
More obscurely however he found hints of herbs and magic that could be used against Elves. He was shocked to find such knowledge written down in the human world. He had believed such knowledge was safely hidden with the wizards of theTuatha Dé Danann.
His first impulse was to look toward the fireplace. He should burn the book. He picked it up and clutched it to his belly. A moment later he calmed enough to consider what it would mean to the Hunter to find the Elf he was protecting in his library burning one of his books.
Sam reconsidered and decided to put the book back exactly where he had found it. Bobby would notice the gap if the book was to come up missing. Sam had blown the dust off the edges. It didn't appear to be a volume that the Hunter consulted regularly. San bit his thumb and used the blood to draw a seal on the edges of the book leaves.
He would not at least be able to check to see if the book was opened in the futre. He would have to take action then. Now if was better to simply put the problem aside. He would have to trust the Hunter protector for the time being.
At the back of his mind Sam realized that he had been hearing vague noises from outside for a while. There was the roar of a machine and the crunch of gravel pressed down by something heavy. He moved to the front door and peered out. The big black car was now in front of the house and Dean was behind the steering wheel. Bobby was standing at the bottom of the steps out of harm's way.
The Fae warrior was smiling and whooping like a child as he guided the machine down and then back up Bobby's road. San stepped out on the porch and joined in the cheering and waving. It definitely looked like Dean was learning to drive.
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Bobby had finally pried Dean's hands off the steering wheel and baptized Sam in the mysteries of controlling a mechanical wonder. Sam was not as enchanted by the car as Dean obviously was but he learned to move the device adequately.
Next Bobby introduced them to guns. Sam was disturbed at the noise and the violence. It seemed somehow unpleasant to kill creatures unexpectedly and at a great distance. Dean didn't like the noise or the power that kicked the gun's strength back up his arm, hurting his shoulder. Bobby encouraged them both to think of the guns as a loud and noisy game. The Hunter set up targets for them to shoot in rows at various distances. He seemed very pleased at their ability to pick thie targets off easily.
"I assume you are using the same skills that you developed learning how to handle your bows." The Hunter said. "Targeting is much the same except for the speed. Judging the deflection of the wind is much more difficult with guns than bows. The bullet punches its way through the air with more power. You both will have to learn to adjust."
Finally Bobby agreed that school was out. The three went back into the house to have a late lunch. Once inside Bobby pulled out maps of South Dakota and fired up his computer to show them pictures of Yankton.
Singer laid his finger on the map and traced out the road the Sam and Dean would follow to get to Yankton where Bobby's old friend,, Marshall Rose, was waiting for them.
"Yankton was the first capital of the Dakota territories" Bobby said, looking up at the two Fae. "That most likely means nothing to you two but it means that the city has been around for more than a century. It is named for the Yankton tribe of Nakota Native Americans; Yankton is derived from the Nakota word I-hank-ton-wan, or "the end village" in English. It's located on the Missouri River just downstream of the Gavins Point Dam and Lewis and Clark Lake and just upstream of the confluence with the James River."
Bobby stopped talking and was greeted by a couple of confused faces. "I know, I know. You don't have any idea of what I'm talking about but just try to remember some part of it. If your people have been watching the human world for any period of time you must know something about the Native Americans."
Bobby rolled up the map and handed it over to Sam. "I don't have an idea of what Marshall has found down in Yankton. I'll call him before you guys get on the road and try to get you as much information as I can. Just find Marshall, and do what he asks you to do. He's been hunting for a long time. He knows his stuff. He'll do his best to keep you out of trouble."
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Bobby made his calls and by three o'clock the two Fae were settled into the Impala packed and on their way to Yankton. Sam held the map in his lap; he was the navigator. He knew that it was only eighty or so miles to Yankton and it should take them under two hours to get there. Marshall Rose was expecting to see them well before sun set and had a place for them to stay all set up.
Marshall had told Bobby that the problem was the spirit of a long dead Yankton warrior who was haunting the shores of the Missouri River. He was pushing unwary late night joggers and wanderers into the river. Most of the victims made it out of the water but there had been a few that were either not very good swimmers or who had panicked and drown. The object of the hunt was to find the warrior's bones, dig them up and put him to rest.
Bobby had waved the Fae off like sending the children to the first day of school. This was going to be a test. Bobby knew he could calm Marshall Rose down if the boys slipped up. He'd already warned the old hunter that the boys Bobby was sending him were not only green they were a little strange. If they passed this hunt it would go a long way towards establishing a reputation with other Hunters that would help them hide, just a couple of straws in a bale of hay. Bobby hoped for the best.
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The Missouri river above Yankton gleamed in the moonlight. Marshall Rose had posted them on the path that the Warrior walked. Dean was out in front and closest to the banks of the River. Against Marshall's wishes the Half-Fae was playing bait. Dean knew there was very little a spirit could do to him. Spirits could not handle iron so there was no danger of Dean's blood betraying him. Silver was also dangerous but also a lot more rare than iron. Dean was fairly confident he could hand out as well as he would get if a spirit truly wanted to tangle with him.
Sam was nearby. His job was to follow the spirit back to its hidden bones. They would dig up the damn things if they had to if only to pacify Marshall Rose. They were Fae and Elf. Any spirit who wanted to mess with the Unseelie Court members was a spirit too bold for its own good. They could literally kill the spirit where it stood but they had agreed to play by Hunter rules.
They had met Marshall right on time. They ate with the man in a small diner and established a relationship. Marshall was amazingly old for an active Hunter. He was either damn good or damn lucky. Most Hunters did now make it passed their fortieth birthday and Marshall was well over sixty. In Sam's opinion the man should have found a hidie-hole like Bobby Singer had done and stayed home passing out advice to the younger guys. As simply proof that a Hunter could survive to old age the man was a monument.
He regarded Sam and Dean as fresh meat and wasn't going to put money on either of them being around for long. First of all they were both much too pretty. Marshall had scars on top of scares. These boys were fresh faced and smooth skinned. Marshall only hoped he would have something left to hand back to Bobby Singer.
After sun set Marshall took them out to the river bank and stationed them on the jogging trail where the spirit had taken the most victims. Marshall was holding point further up the trail, intent on driving casual civilians away. A modern Frankenstein with a shotgun was more than enough to change any jogger's mind about the river path.
The moon was riding high and the air was turning cold when Dean heard Sam's whispered warning. Turning he came face to face with the Yankton warrior's spirit. As it reached out long arms, reduced to simple bone over the decades Dean smiled and put out his own arms. The spirit's embrace came up empty. The shock of failure awakened the spirit from its long years of mindless rage. It was not very often that a supernatural creature was faced with one of its own kind.
The warrior backed away as Dean's Fae spirit manifested itself and made threatening gestures too. The shocked spirit retreated, flying backwards and withdrawing to the water carved riverside bluff.
Sam appeared from a clump of trees and now two Fae were facing a spirit who in life had been terrified of spirits. The Fae of the warrior's time had enjoyed playing with the Yankton people and the tribal stories were replete with tales of the Fae's casual cruelties. Fleeing back to its hiding place the spirit led the Fae Hunters to a small ground level cave scooped out long ago by some forgotten flood. This Is where a wounded and dying Yankton warrior had crawled for shelter more than a century ago.
Sam knelt down and pulled out the warrior's bones. The spirit riding the remains almost desperately was inhaled, devoured by the two Fae. It was a shame to let perfectly good spirit energy to go to waste. The two Fae Hunters shared the spirit between them. They simply ate it
Sam slipped off his shirt and gathered the bones up. He tied them up in the bundle when he was sure he had them all. "This should make Marshall happy." Sam smiled at Dean.
The Fae joined hands and proceeded up the trail looking for Marshall. When they found the Hunter they would turn over their bag of bones.