Into the Mystic - A Bubba the Monster Hunter Novella Read online

“So, do we just go through?” I asked, starting in that direction.

  “Slow down there, big fella,” Amy said, grabbing my arm. “We have to get…” She looked at the girl with one eyebrow raised.

  “Cheryl,” the girl said.

  “Cheryl,” Amy went on with a nod. “Back up to the surface so she can go home, and we should probably get our packs, and retrieve the ogre we left hanging out in the car. Plus, I wouldn’t mind having a little food and a tent at hand if we’re going to go be strangers in a strange land for a while.”

  “Makes sense,” I agreed. “But what do we do with Prince Charmless here?” I asked.

  Mama pulled a knife from her belt and slit the bound fairy’s throat from ear to ear. Amy and I jumped back as blood fountained from his neck, and he collapsed to one side. Mama wiped her knife on the corpse’s pants and tucked it back where she found it.

  “Problem solved,” she said. I gawked at her, as did everyone else in the cave. “What?” she said. “We were going to kill him. I just didn’t waste time arguing about it. He couldn’t be allowed to roam free in this world, and if we took him back to Faerie, we ran the risk of him alerting his confederates. Not to mention the fact that he was a sex trafficker, one of the lowest forms of life in this or any other dimension. So, I killed him. Now let’s get you back upstairs and you can get home where you’ll be safe.” She directed this last bit to the girl, who took an involuntary step back as Mama’s gaze fell on her. I didn’t blame her. She kinda scared me, too.

  Mama started across the cave toward the tunnel we came in from, and after looking at each other for a few seconds, the rest of us followed. We had all just reached the mouth of the tunnel leading out when the girl spoke again.

  “Who’s Oberon?” she asked.

  Mama froze, then slowly turned to look at Cheryl. “Where did you hear that name?”

  “The guys that took me said it a couple of times. They said that once they sold me to…Ray-something, I can’t remember the name, that was all they needed to do before they got in touch with their contact and took out Oberon. I was just wondering who Oberon is. I think I’ve heard the name before somewhere…”

  “Yeah, probably in school,” Joe said.

  “Oberon is my father,” Mama said. “Let’s hurry this up, Robbie. We have to get this girl to the surface so we can come back down here. Apparently, we have to save your sister’s and your grandfather’s lives.”

  Epilogue

  I went through the portal first, my fists wrapped in cold iron and leather as I stepped into the shimmering blue light. I felt a disconcerting sensation of nothing, then I was wrapped in freezing air and felt snow crunch under my feet.

  Aw, shit, I thought. This portal comes out in the Winter Court. I stepped forward to make sure nobody was going to land on me, then started to look around. There was snow everywhere, and I kept looking for an old British lamppost, but never saw one.

  One by one, the others came through, Mama coming across last. She threw open her arms and took a deep breath, sucking in the frigid air like she was coming home from a long trip. Which I guess she was, in a way.

  “Quickly,” she said. “We must not stay here. My mother will be able to sense my presence within the Winter Court, and she will send soldiers to intercept us. We must get to a neutral or unclaimed territory as soon as possible. If her men find us, there’s no telling what she will do.”

  “I’ll tell you what I will do,” said an impossibly tall woman who stepped out from behind a tree. “I will throw your treacherous little behind in my deepest dungeon and let you rot there with all your little mortal friends to keep you company.”

  “Hello, Mother,” Mama said, looking at the newcomer. I could see the resemblance. This woman, Mab I assumed, looked like Mama with the knob turned up to eleven. She was tall with cold, chiseled features and eyes like chips of ice. Her skin was flawless and pale as the finest china. Her long fingers tapped out a slow rhythm on her folded arms, and blood-red nails tipped each one.

  She wore a gown of pale blue, trimmed with white fur, and her jet-black hair looked all the more stark for the contrast. Everything about her screamed power, and dignity, and cruelty. My first look at my grandmother was not exactly milk and cookies.

  I stepped forward and held out my giant hand. “Hey there, Grandma,” I said, thickening up my Georgia twang even more than normal. “I’m Bubba. I’m your grandson.”

  Mab stared at me for a minute, then looked at Mama, then back at me, then back at Mama before finally settling on me. She snapped her fingers, and a dozen heavily-armed fairies came out of the woods. “Take them to my dungeon,” she said. “Tell the torturer he is having guests.”

  Barely the beginning.

  Acknowledgments

  Thanks as always to Melissa Gilbert for all her help, and for trying in vain to teach me where the commas go.

  Many thanks to the amazing Natania Barron for this cover. You should go buy her new book, Wothwood. It’s badass.

  The following people help me bring this work to you by their Patreon-age. You can join them at Patreon.com/johnhartness.

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  About the Author

  John G. Hartness is a teller of tales, a righter of wrong, defender of ladies’ virtues, and some people call him Maurice, for he speaks of the pompatus of love. He is also the best-selling author of EPIC-Award-winning series The Black Knight Chronicles from Bell Bridge Books, a comedic urban fantasy series that answers the eternal question “Why aren’t there more fat vampires?” In July of 2016. John was honored with the Manly Wade Wellman Award by the NC Speculative Fiction Foundation for Best Novel by a North Carolina writer in 2015 for the first Quincy Harker novella, Raising Hell.

  In 2016, John teamed up with a pair of other publishing industry ne’er-do-wells and founded Falstaff Books, a publishing company dedicated to pushing the boundaries of literature and entertainment.

  In his copious free time John enjoys long walks on the beach, rescuing kittens from trees and getting caught in the rain. An avid Magic: the Gathering player, John is strong in his nerd-fu and has sometimes been referred to as “the Kevin Smith of Charlotte, NC.” And not just for his girth.

  Find out more about John online

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  Also by John G. Hartness

  The Black Knight Chronicles - Omnibus Edition

  Paint it Black

  In the Still of the Knight

  Man in Black

  Scattered, Smothered, & Chunked - Bubba the Monster Hunter Season One

  Grits, Guns, & Glory - Bubba the Monster Hunter Season Two

  Wine, Women, & Song - Bubba the Monster Hunter Season 3

  Year One: A Quincy Harker, Demon Hunter Collection

  The Cambion Cycle - Quincy Harker, Year Two

  Queen of Kats Book I - Betrayal

  Queen of Kats Book II - Survival

  From the Stone

  The Chosen

  Copyright © 2017 by John G. Hartness

  Cover Design by Natania Barron

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any person, living or dead, is purely coincidental. Or parody. It might be parody, too.

  Faeries are very often assholes.

  Stay in school.

  Unless it sucks. Then go fishing.

  Don’t do drugs.

  Except for the good ones. Do all of those.

  Why are you reading the copyright page? Don’t you have anything better to do?

  For God’s sake, go buy another book. You’re obviously bored. www.falstaffbooks.com.

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