Baculum: Book Four of the Angelbound Lincoln Series
Baculum
Book Four of the Angelbound Lincoln Series
Christina Bauer
Copyright
Monster House Books
Brighton, MA 02135
ISBN 9781946677471
First Edition
Copyright © 2021 by Monster House Books LLC
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Dedication
For All Those Who Kick Ass, Take Names
and Read Books
Contents
Collected Works
Author Preface
BACULUM
BACULUM
ANGELFIRE - Description
Also By Christina Bauer
ANGELBOUND - Sample Chapter
Appendix I - The Usual
Appendix II - Author Thoughts
Collected Works
Angelbound Lincoln
The Angelbound experience as told by Prince Lincoln
1. Duty Bound
2. Lincoln
3. Trickster
4. Baculum
5. Angelfire
* * *
Angelbound Offspring
The next generation takes on Heaven, Hell, and everything in between
1. Maxon
2. Portia
3. Zinnia
4. Rhodes
5. Kaps
6. Mack
7. Huntress
* * *
Angelbound Origins
About a quasi (part demon and part human) girl who loves kicking butt in Purgatory's Arena
1. Angelbound
2. Scala
3. Acca
4. Thrax
5. The Dark Lands
6. The Brutal Time
7. Armageddon
8. Quasi Redux
9. Clockwork Igni
* * *
Fairy Tales of the Magicorum
Modern fairy tales with sass, action, and romance
1. Wolves and Roses
2. Moonlight and Midtown
3. Shifters and Glyphs
4. Slippers and Thieves
5. Bandits and Ball Gowns
6. Fire and Cinder
7. Fairies and Frosting
8. Towers and Tithes
9. Evil Queens and Goblin Kings
* * *
Dimension Drift
Dystopian adventures with science, snark, and hot aliens
1. Scythe
2. Umbra
3. Alien Minds
4. ECHO Academy
5. Justice
6. Slate
* * *
Pixieland Diaries
About sassy pixie Calla and her love-crush-nemesis, the elf prince Dare
1. Pixieland Diaries
2. Calla
3. Dare
4. Winter Prince
5. Ley Queen
* * *
Beholder
Where a medieval farm girl discovers necromancy and true love
1. Cursed
2. Concealed
3. Cherished
4. Crowned
5. Cradled
*This is a finished series.
Author Preface
Dear Readers,
Get ready for the Viking Games! BACULUM turned out to be such a trip and I’m super excited to share it with you. Here are some key points to consider before you get started.
Point One. There’s A Dual Point of View
Myla and Lincoln's voices are back in this novel!!! The core conflict just wouldn’t work unless readers got to know both their inner thoughts. Plus, it’s fun to write.
That said, the story is very much centered in Lincoln's world and his character arc, so get ready for a deeper view into the inner workings of our favorite Mister the Prince.
Point Two. This Takes Place Both Before And After ACCA
Please note that this book also takes place after the events of ACCA (Angelbound Origins Book #3). There are no spoilers here if you read out of order. I also wrote it so you can enjoy it as a stand alone. That said, to set this story up, I go back to Lincoln and Myla’s past. When you read it, I hope it all makes sense.
Point Three. What Is My Problem?
At this point you may wonder: why do I write things out of sequence? Wasn’t ACCA published a while ago?
Here’s my honest answer: I have no idea.
This is just how my gift works. I know it’s different from everyone else, and sometimes Business-Me wants to take Author-Me out and kick my own ass, if that makes sense. But then I drink coffee and get back to writing. Self-distraction is a very useful skill.
Enough of my preamble, let’s get to the Angelbound fun. I hope you enjoy BACULUM!
CB
BACULUM
Years Ago
1
Lincoln
Sixteenth Birthday
11:58 p.m.
11:59 p.m.
Midnight.
And my sixteenth birthday is officially here!
Some folks might celebrate with cake and presents. In my family, we hunt demons.
I know. Awesome.
Father and I march through Brazil’s largest vine forest, Mata de Cipó. In every direction, long sheets of woody tendrils sway around us. Father and I are tracking a vitis, which is a snake-like demon. There’s no rain. Winds are low. A full moon casts everything in pale light.
Perfect conditions for a hunt.
Suddenly, an electric sense of alarm rips through my nervous system. Something watches us…. and it’s close.
I picture things through my enemy’s eyes. The vitis would begin by spotting two figures in dark body armor. Next it would notice Father’s white hair and barrel chest. I’d appear younger, leaner, and much easier to kill.
Most likely, the demon will attack me first.
Suddenly, a nearby vine drifts away from the breeze. My pulse speeds. Moving slowly, I angle my head for a better view. Sure enough, that lone tendril is covered in a grid of black dots. Only a vitis has skin like that.
Father sees the danger, same as I do. He raises his fist twice. It’s a hand signal that means, Do you want me to attack?
I shake my head. No, I’ve got his.
Battle energy spikes through me. The demon’s wiry arm slowly twists nearer. A few inches from my throat, it stops.
Up close, I can see how each dark point on the creature’s skin holds a single needle. That’s definitely a vitis. I’ve never fought these before, but I know their needles inject neurotoxins. If I get enough in my bloodstream, I’ll be unconscious in seconds.
In other words, once the battle starts, I must take down this vitis and fast.
On it.
Reaching into my holster, I pull out my baculum, which are a pair of silver rods that create different angelfire weapons. As I picture the blade I need, the two bars ignite into a dagger made from white flame. Reaching forward, I angle the fiery blade toward the demon’s arm.
Somewhere in the sheet of vines, the main part of the vitis lets out a low hiss.
Clearly, I’ve got its attention now. Best to announce my purpose.
“I am Lincoln Vidar Osric Aquilus, High Prince of the Thrax. According to human news reports, a massive snake has been bothering nearby villages. Stealing livestock. Ruining fences. Almost killing a child. If this is your doing, then you must return to Hell now. I have a magical charm which will keep you there forever.”
At this point, most demons would slink away. r />
Not this one.
Instead, the rest of the creature oozes out behind from the wall of vines. Like a coil of wire, the monster’s green tentacles stack up, one on top of each other. Within seconds, the ropes take on a humanoid shape. The creature sports empty pits for eyes and a dark slit of a mouth. Its tentacle arm still hovers just above my skin.
“I am innocent,” says the vitis.
“Let’s see,” I state.
With my left fist, I keep my angelfire dagger angled toward the tentacle-arm. Using my free hand, I pull a quarter from my pocket.
“This is no regular coin,” I declare. “You’re looking at a truth charm.”
By the way, thrax always conceal their magical items as everyday objects. If we lose a few—which happens more than it should—then humans don’t know what they’ve found.
I speak directly into the coin. “Has this demon terrorized humans?”
A warm awareness moves through my veins. Since I’m part angel, this heat comes from the charm’s magic mixing with my supernatural nature.
White flame erupts from the coin. Angelfire. This doesn’t burn me, but it does summon Heavenly power. Hundreds of angelic voices speak at once. Their tones are so lively and musical, it’s almost enough to distract me from the vitis.
Almost, but not quite.
“Guilty, guilty, guilty,” sings the chorus.
“That settles it,” I declare. “The angels have spoken. You must leave for Hell. This is your last warning.”
The vitis howls. “Never! Die, demon fighter!”
We thrax have rules. One is to never attack unless directly threatened. In this case, just poking a tentacle near my face doesn’t count as a full-on assault.
But the words die, demon fighter? That definitely checks the attack box. And things get worse from there.
Fast as a whip, the demon’s tentacle-arm loops around my throat. Hundreds of tiny needles dig into my neck. Each pricker burns my skin as it releases neurotoxin. If I don’t do something quickly, I’ll be paralyzed under the demon’s grip.
To fully kill a vitis, I must combine two potions. In one swift movement, I reset my baculum while pulling a pair of vials from different pockets on my body armor. Meanwhile, the neurotoxin spreads through my bloodstream. My head turns woozy.
I smash the vials between my palms. A small cloud of black smoke rises. The demon’s grip on my neck tightens. Now I can add lack of oxygen to my list of problems.
High-pitched ringing fills my ears. Through the noise, I vaguely hear Father’s voice. “Lincoln, are you all right?”
The mists of the two vials swirl together, but they don’t combust. I know these potions can take a few seconds to work, but this seems extreme. My legs turn wobbly beneath me.
Finally, flames erupt all around the vitis. The creature lets out a high-pitched screech before crumbling into ash.
The world around me gets even more blurry. While forcing myself to stay upright, I reach into my pocket, pull out a stick of gum, and pop it into my mouth. This is no ordinary treat but another thrax charm. As I chew, a healing spell gets released. Within moments, my mind is clear and my body’s back to normal. I straighten my stance and exhale.
My father steps to my side. “All better, son?”
“Yes.”
He pats my shoulder. “Well done. Happy birthday to you, indeed!”
“Thank you. Any suggestions?”
“Oh, it’s been years since I could teach you anything about demon fighting.” He sighs. “If only your mother could have seen that.”
Normally, my mother, Octavia, joins all my birthday patrols. This year, she’s on a demon hunting safari to find monsters in less-protected regions. Sadly, she’s uncovered a serious infestation and must stay longer than expected. I told her that I’d consider it a great birthday present if she destroyed tons of evil for me.
“Once your mother returns, I’ll share every second of that battle with her.” He beams. “We’re both so proud of the man you’re becoming.”
Father and I share a smile. My heart lightens. A memory appears. I recall toddling around with my first wooden sword while Father cheers on every swipe I make through the air. Looking back, I can draw a direct line from that instance to this battle. Sometimes, being an only child means a lot of pressure. Right now, it brings me nothing but joy.
Rustling erupts in the nearby vines, breaking up my thoughts. Birds caw as they take to the air. Monkeys chatter warnings. Something approaches, only it’s not a careful predator like the vitis. Kneeling, I set my fingertips against the soft ground. Telltale vibrations move up my arm.
Father tilts his head. “What is it?”
A few minutes ago, Father’s face was tight with concern over the vitis demon. At this point, he seems downright casual as he asks about the newcomer. No question what this means.
Father already knows who’s on the way.
“Someone’s marching through the vines.” I rise to stand. “And they’re disturbing everything in their path.”
“Oh, my.” Father blinks innocently. “Who could that be?”
“I believe you already know.”
Father winks. “You’ve got me there.”
My bet? Our surprise visitor is none other than Aldred, the Earl of Acca and the official poster boy for bag of dicks syndrome. Aldred is selfish, rude, and my father’s personal stalker.
“Ringmaster Kell is on his way,” states Father.
I take a half-step backward. That’s unexpected.
Kell runs the Viking Games, where father-son teams fight Norse monsters in a massive arena. It’s all part of a rare phenomenon called a Salient, where a chunk of one reality gets stuck in another. In this case, a bit of the Norse Universe lodged into our own.
Tapping my chin, I consider Kell’s visit. The ringmaster is a dark elf mage from the Norse Universe. If Father’s inviting the him here, then Kell must offer the thrax some kind of advantage.
A realization appears.
“The Viking Arena is built on the Purple Salient,” I say slowly. “That land comes from another reality. No one sets foot on that soil without Kell’s magical approval. Such a place could make a nice safe zone for our people. No demons. Lots of entertainment. Perhaps Kell will give us some land… for the right price.”
Father chuckles. “Exactly!”
Before us, the wall of vines shimmies and parts. Through the break in the tendrils, waves of green mist pour into the small clearing. A fresh chill crawls up my spine as my inner angelic power responds to this new magic.
For the record, I liked the warm sensation from the truth charm much better. There’s something unsettling about getting a chill in the middle of a tropical zone.
Placing the back of his hand by his mouth, Father speaks in a low and conspiratorial tone. “Kell’s a real showman. Consider yourself warned.”
The green haze solidifies into a kind of curtain before us. Transparent skulls swirl within this emerald sheet. Mystical drumbeats fill the air. A sickly-sweet smell rises.
Talk about making an entrance. Father wasn’t kidding.
Kell steps through the mist and into the clearing. Since he’s a dark elf, Kell has green skin, pointed ears, and a flat face. Scrolls hang from his belt, along with a single skull. Lines of power twist across his exposed flesh.
“Behold, I am Ringmaster Kell, Ruler of the Purple Salient and Leader of the Viking Games.”
My supernatural shiver turns even more arctic. After years of demon patrol, I know exactly what that means.
No matter what titles Kell may give himself, this guy’s a predator, pure and simple.
2
Lincoln
Ringmaster Kell puffs up his chest. Behind him, transparent skulls spin along his newly-created sheet of mist. Some of the heads seem to be laughing. It’s creepy beyond reason.
“Speak, boy!” he commands.
Prince or not, I don’t appreciate random orders from strangers. So I give Kell what
humans would call a golfer’s clap.
“Excellent entrance,” I say smoothly.
In response, Kell shoots me an angry glare. Clearly, he’s used to a far more enthusiastic response.
Father applauds as well, although with much more vigor.
Kell glares at the pile of ash that was once a vitis demon. “You took down the father. Yet you missed the son.”
The ringmaster lifts his arms. Tendrils of emerald smoke twist out from his clawed fingers. The misty cords reach into a nearby wall of vines and pull out a small vitis. Like the first creature, this one is humanoid and made from stacked cords. The big difference is how the new vitis is a child. There’s no missing its small stature.
What happens next only takes a matter of seconds. Still, each moment moves slowly in my mind. Kell opens his mouth. A fresh tendril of green smoke flies out from his tongue to slam into the vitis. The little creature instantly erupts into flame, screeching as it burns into ash.
Anger rises inside me. I round on Kell. “That is not an honorable fight. You attacked a lesser foe who showed no aggression.”
“But I am not thrax,” declares Kell. “In my world, fathers determine their son’s fate. And if a parent dies prematurely? Then their child has no right to live.”
My father nods. “We thrax have similar values, only we show it in different ways.” He looks to me. “Isn’t that right, Lincoln?”
I fold my arms over my chest. “Death is far different from helping your royal parent determine new trade routes.”