Into the North: A Keltin Moore Adventure: The Adventures of Keltin Moore, #2

By Lindsay Schopfer

How do you hunt a beast that cannot be tracked?

Professional beast hunter Keltin Moore is returning home a changed man. With a new apprentice and a lifetime of experience gained in faraway Krendaria, he prepares to settle into his old life of being a small town hero.

 

But when gold is discovered in the far north, Keltin must again leave his home in order to protect the prospectors from the beasts ravaging the gold fields. Arriving in the boom town of Lost Trap, Keltin soon discovers that there are dangers beyond beasts in the frozen north.

 

A local gang has established themselves as the resident Hunters Guild and will not tolerate any competition. Meanwhile, a specter haunts the gold fields. A legendary creature known as the Ghost of Lost Trap stalks the snowy countryside, testing Keltin and his friends to their very limits as they try to hunt their most dangerous beast yet.

 

Into the North won first place in the OZMA Award for Fantasy as part of the Chanticleer International Book Awards and is the second installment of the Adventures of Keltin Moore, a series of steampunk-flavored fantasy novels. If you love compelling characters, fantastic creatures, and intense action then you will love these stories!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lindsay Schopfer
• Release date: Mar 26, 2017
• ISBN: 9781544010908

Lindsay Schopfer

Lindsay Schopfer is the award-winning author of The Adventures of Keltin Moore, a series of steampunk-flavored  fantasy novels about a professional monster hunter. His second Keltin Moore novel, Into the North, won first place in the OZMA Award for Fantasy as part of the Chanticleer International Book Awards. He also wrote the sci-fi survivalist novel Lost Under Two Moons and the short story collection Magic, Mystery and Mirth. Lindsay’s workshops and master classes on the craft of writing are top-rated in writing conferences across the Pacific Northwest. Currently, he teaches creative writing at South Puget Sound Community College.

Book preview

Chapter 1 – Hunters at Work

The forest was still. A heavy mantle of snow pressed down on the trees, smothering sound and warmth under its chill embrace. Keltin Moore sat motionless, his coat and hat completely white from the gently falling flakes. He felt the cold seeping into his bones, but did not brush the snow away. It covered him, hid him, allowing him to become a part of the tree that he sat in. He bore his frozen shroud silently and waited.

Below him, a small herd of goats huddled under the awning that shielded them from the worst of the elements. A tall, crossed-log fence surrounded the area where the animals slept when their owner was not herding them through the high meadows. The fence ended at the goat herder’s home, providing support for the awning as well as a solid wall for the small herd to rest against and retain what heat they could when night fell.

Keltin heard a quiet sniffle from somewhere below him. His apprentice Jaylocke, the Weycliff wayfarer, had been fighting a losing battle with a cold for several days. It had been Keltin’s first inclination to do this hunt alone and allow Jaylocke to stay inside with the goat herder and his family, but the perpetually cheerful wayfarer had insisted that he was up to the task. With only one rifle between them, he had volunteered to take a position under a tree closer to the enclosure, ready to move in and engage their quarry directly if anything went awry.

A slight sound like a blanket being drawn over the snow drifted up from somewhere in the forest and drew Keltin’s thoughts away from his apprentice. He moved slowly, tilting his head towards the forest floor to search the stark whiteness below him. He heard the sound a second time and prayed that Jaylocke wouldn’t sneeze as a gangly form emerged from the thick foliage.

The beast was tall, nearly ten feet at the shoulder. Its legs were spindly and stilt-like, with pointed feet that pierced deep into the snow, leaving deep prints in its trail. The stilt beast moved forward carefully, testing each drift with a probing foot before taking another cautious step forward. A bullet-shaped head swung below its shoulders from a long, thick neck, focusing intently on the goats that hadn’t yet realized they were being stalked. The stilt beast approached the fence and began to easily cross over the six-foot tall barrier. At the sight of the beast, the goats began bleating desperately as they strained against the far side of the enclosure in a vain attempt at escape.

Keltin lifted his rifle to his shoulder as he made a rapid examination of his target. The stilt beast was black with white splotches as if lye had been sprinkled onto its scaly surface. Its mouth formed a funnel with a single spike thrusting out from within as its four eyes gleamed like gold in the sunlight. Keltin took aim for the space between the two central orbs.

Pulling the trigger of his custom-made hunting rifle, he sent a Haurizer Smasher into the beast’s head, crushing the front of its skull with the bullet’s heavy impact. With a cry like a rusty hinge being torn from a wall, the beast tripped over the fence and stumbled into the enclosure. Keltin heard a heavy crunch of snow below him followed by the huffing pants of someone trying to run through the high banks between the evergreens.

Jaylocke! he called out. Stay back, it’s got a second brain!

The stilt beast was still upright as it danced around the enclosure on its unsteady, pole-like legs. The goats were in a complete terror as they tried to desperately climb over each other to safety. Struggling to keep its balance, the beast turned and Keltin could see that the monster’s head was hanging limply below its body. With no clear shot at the creature’s second brain, Keltin aimed and fired at one of the beast’s twisting knees. The ball-and-socket joint snapped apart as the Smasher round struck it, sending the beast spinning and falling over the fence to partially land on the outside of the enclosure.

Now Jaylocke! Finish it!

Keltin struggled to quickly climb down from his perch, willing his cold-numbed limbs into motion. He landed heavily on his feet and struggled through the snow towards the beast as it kicked and flailed on top of the fence. Jaylocke reached the thrashing creature first. In his hands he held the Ripper, a wickedly efficient tool especially designed for finishing wounded beasts. He lifted the weapon and brought its blade-end down on the beast’s body, but it bounced away from the scaly hide without leaving a mark.

The beast kicked out with one of its long legs. Jaylocke tried to leap over it, but was caught across the shins and bowled over into the snow. He rolled and staggered to his feet, stumbling towards the beast and turning the Ripper to aim one of its hooks for the base of the creature’s thick neck. Lodging the barb deep into the yielding flesh, he twisted the weapon so that its straight spike was angled to pierce deeply and play havoc inside the dying creature. By the time Keltin had reached the scene the beast had fallen still for the most part. Jaylocke continued to twist and move the Ripper, causing slight spasms in the monster’s gangly limbs.

It’s dead, said Keltin. You can relax now.

It’s stuck, muttered Jaylocke.

He struggled with the weapon for another moment before finally managing to free it from the still twitching carcass.

I had a nasty time trying to find the second brain, he said.

It’s over here, said Keltin, kicking against the beast’s posterior. Just ahead of the back set of legs.

How can you tell?

Because of the way it was dancing when I killed the head. Keltin turned to his apprentice with concern. Are you all right? You took a nasty fall there.

Jaylocke grunted and sat down on part of the mangled fence. He carefully ran his hands over his legs and lower body for a moment before nodding.

I’m alright. The snow broke my fall. Jaylocke sneezed loudly, hanging his head and groaning. I don’t feel very good.

Keltin moved back to where the beast’s legs lay draped over the fence.

There doesn’t seem to be much damage, just some logs knocked loose. Help me drag the carcass off and we’ll have everything put back together in just a few minutes.

They soon had the beast off and were pulling the fence back into place, ignoring the goats cowering and bleating at the far end of the enclosure. Jaylocke wiped his nose on his sleeve and gave a weak chuckle.

I have to admit, when I asked to be your apprentice, I never anticipated receiving lessons in carpentry as well.

I don’t know the first thing about carpentry. I just don’t want our employer to take the price of the fence out of our payment.

Where is he, by the way? I can’t believe that he didn’t hear all of that.

Keltin shrugged. Probably inside, keeping warm and waiting until we tell him it’s safe.

Jaylocke sneezed and wiped his nose on his sleeve again.

Do you think that we could join him? I’d hate to have survived a fight with a ravenous beast only to have a sniffling cold finish me off.

* * *

I still can’t believe the size of the creature. It must have been taller than our house!

Keltin nodded as Yul kept alternating between counting pence from a small wooden box and commenting on some remarkable feature of the stilt beast. The goatherd practically shook with excitement as he finally placed the last of the bounty onto the rough table. Keltin swept the money into his hand as the large pile of small denominations nearly spilled over the edge of his palm. He quickly pocketed the sum, well-aware of the way that the goatherd’s stout wife eyed the money with a thin grimace.

At least your herd should be safe now, he said.

Will you stay with us another night? Yul asked eagerly, unaware of his wife’s darkening expression.

No, Keltin said quickly. We’ll likely be leaving town today.

But the snow is still knee deep, and your friend has such a cold.

They’ll be fine, Yul, his wife said. We don’t want to keep Mr. Moore from important business.

What business could he have that wouldn’t wait another day?

We really should leave today, said Keltin. Thank you both for your kindness.

Yul sighed. I had hoped to hear more about your other hunts. You must live a very thrilling life, Mr. Moore.

Sometimes.

Keltin bid them both a polite farewell as he quickly pulled on his boots and heavy hunting jacket. Picking up his pack and rifle from where they rested near the door, he stepped out into the chill air outside. His breath puffed out in front of him as he followed the beaten snow track through the knee-high banks and onto the trail that led to the rest of the frontier community of Jamlan, a simple village whose citizens made their living by providing supplies and services to local homesteaders and woodcutters at the nearby lumber mill. Keltin met no one willing to brave the cold as he trudged his way to the Stick and Mug, the town’s only pub, restaurant, and brewery.

A small bell cheerfully announced his arrival as he entered the Stick’s taproom. The heat of a healthy fire burning in a large stone fireplace gave welcome warmth to the nearly empty room. The only customer besides Keltin and his apprentice was a man in road-stained clothes nursing a steaming mug at the bar. Keltin gave the man the briefest of silent greetings before going to find Jaylocke. He found him sitting at the end of a split-log table with his head bent over a steaming bowl and a large rag serving as a tent to help him absorb as much of the bowl’s steaming vapors as possible. Keltin sank onto the bench across from him.

How are you feeling? he asked.

Jaylocke moaned softly from under his rag.

Tell me that Yul paid us in tonic.

Sorry, you’ll have to make due with jeva.

Keltin placed the full bounty amount onto the table between them. Jaylocke peeked at it for half a second then retreated back under his tent.

Is it all there?

One five jeva note, two singles, and the rest in pence. nine jeva all together.

I still think it’s somewhat low for the work that we did.

Keltin sighed. It is, but we can’t expect these people to pay any more.

No, I know that you’re right. Jaylocke gave another low moan and shook his head under his rag. I don’t think I’ll be up for another hunt any time soon.

It’s just as well. We’re out of leads, and I think it’s about time to head home to Gillentown anyway. I haven’t seen Mrs. Galloway or her boarding home since Krendaria.

I suppose you might as well sleep in the room you’re renting once or twice each month. Besides, I know you’d like to see some familiar faces.

Keltin was about to reply when the owner of the Stick and Mug entered the room with a small cask he had brought up from his cellar. The large, balding man looked over the taproom and gave Keltin a friendly smile.

Good morning, Mr. Moore. How is your friend?

Keltin rose up from the table and went to stand at the bar beside the man drinking silently nearby.

He’ll survive, said Keltin. Please thank your wife for preparing the bowl and vapors for him.

Of course. It’s the least we can do for you. We’re good friends of Yul and Lomma, and everyone in town will sure sleep better with that monster dead. Can I get you something to ward off the chill? Something to eat?

Just some hot cider for now, thank you.

The man removed a kettle from the fireplace and poured some of the steaming, amber liquid into a tin cup. Keltin accepted the drink gratefully, allowing the hot liquid to warm his hands and insides as he considered their situation. The journey from Dhalma Province in Krendaria to the northern hill country of Riltvin had been a long, difficult one. After saving the season’s crops from an abnormally large beast infestation, Keltin had sent most of his earnings to support his sister Mary and their mother. The rest of the money had gone to his landlady, leaving only enough for Keltin and Jaylocke to survive on until they had managed to find more work. Winter was always a bad season for hunting as many beasts either hibernated or moved on to warmer climes. Still, they’d managed to bring in every bounty they’d agreed to hunt, and nobody had gotten hurt.

Keltin admitted to himself that they could likely find more bounties if they continued to move from one small village to the next, but an overwhelming sense of road fatigue was pushing him south. It had been months since he’d last slept in his own bed, and while he was accustomed to a great deal of travel, he’d never been away from home this long before. If Jaylocke had been feeling well enough, they would have been on their way already.

Keltin took another sip of his cider and realized that he had drawn the interest of the Stick and Mug’s only other patron. He was a scruffy character, with several weeks of beard on his ruddy cheeks and clothes that were well-worn and heavily patched. He kept a traveling pack by his feet that dwarfed the ones Keltin and Jaylocke carried. Before Keltin could get up from the bar and return to Jaylocke the man addressed him in a voice more drawl than speech that identified him as a native of Purslavia on Riltvin’s southern border.

’Day to you, lad, he said. I hear you’ll be the local talk hereabout for another snow at least. Took down a scurry critter, aye?

We killed a beast last night that was bothering one of the locals.

Good on ya, boy. There much pay in that?

Enough. Usually.

The man shook his head. Now you listen to a whisker-face what knows the news. You make your way north for the Julip Mountains, heh? Plenty for all boys, and no need for sour looks or ill deeds on the trail, am I right?

Keltin raised a curious eyebrow in response. The Julips? That’s an awfully long walk from here. Besides, we’re headed south, towards Gillentown.

Gillentown? There’s naught but splinters and sawdust there boy. Listen to a man who knows each stream west of Krendaria, there’s no more gold in Riltvin than you could lose with one good sneeze.

Gold?

The man’s eyes flew open. Haven’t you heard? There’s gold in the Julips! Enough dust to sink a barge, they say. It’s all along the Wylow River, cutting right through the northern territory of Drutchland. It’s been in every newspaper from here to home. Northern gold’s got people from Byclave to Larigoss scurrying to that forsaken stretch of mountain and the twisting Wylow. I don’t know how you lads have heard none of it.

We’ve been a little out of touch lately. Haven’t seen a newspaper for weeks. Keltin eyed the man’s large pack. I assume you’re heading there to try your luck?

Just as soon as my mule’s leg mends. Old fool took a twist on the icy road. I’d carry him myself if I could bear it. You boys take my advice. Take up your packs and take yourself north as fast as you may. All the good claims will be staked by the spring thaw. It’s deep of winter when the hardies lay their claims, and they what come away with the real fortunes.

We’ll keep that in mind, thank you.

Keltin excused himself and returned to Jaylocke. The Weycliff had finally set aside his bowl of vapors and was eyeing him curiously. Keltin spoke in a low tone, nodding slightly in the stranger’s direction.

You heard?

Hard not to, ‘me laddo’. Jaylocke sneezed before continuing. Purslavian, isn’t he?

Keltin nodded. He’s a long way from home.

Jaylocke gave him an appraising look.

So, what do you think, Keltin?

About what?

What the Purslavian said about going north.

Keltin swallowed the last of his cider and shrugged. I suppose anyone would get excited about the idea of fortunes just waiting to be picked out of a riverbank.

Jaylocke gave him a half-smile. Even you?

Maybe a little, though hunting for gold would likely be just as hard as hunting beasts.

Probably a bit safer, though. Gold doesn’t bite back.

Who bites gold?

Isn’t that how you check that it’s real? Jaylocke grinned. I hope that’s how it’s done, otherwise the only thing I know about hunting for gold is wrong.

You don’t have an ancestor that ever tried his hand at prospecting?

Jaylocke was silent. Keltin immediately regretted bringing up the subject. He still didn’t fully understand the strange power of the Weycliff to draw upon the skills and abilities of their forebears, but he knew that it had something to do with connecting directly with a specific deceased family member and making a petition for temporary aid. A wayfarer that was both well-versed in his family history and faithful to his people’s traditions could be a master of a wide and varied array of disciplines. Cooking, singing, medicine, martial combat, all of it was available to the Weycliff that was faithful to his responsibilities and family.

But Jaylocke had not been faithful in his duties, spending too much of his time relying on his ancestors’ abilities and procrastinating the time that he would learn a new trade to add to the family’s communal knowledge. One by one, his forbears had stopped answering his calls for help, until only a few obscure great-aunts and uncles would lend him their temporary aid. Taking Keltin as his master and mentor had been Jaylocke’s idea to learn the unique trade of beast hunting and regain the good favor of his ancestors as well as a place of respect within his own troupe.

Jaylocke finally sighed and looked up at Keltin.

I need to tell you something. I think my connection with my ancestors has been completely severed. I’m on my own now.

I thought you still had a few ancestors that were still willing to help you.

I did, but not anymore. My great uncle Kleadil was the last.

He was the one who was a dervish, wasn’t he? Why would he leave you?

Jaylocke shrugged. Maybe he thinks I don’t really need him anymore, now that I’m learning from you. Or maybe it’s because he wants me to have to rely on your lessons, rather than his aid. Whatever the reason, he’s gone now. I just thought you should know.

Keltin nodded. Thank you for telling me. What can we do about it?

Jaylocke shrugged again. We need to go beast hunting. As much as we can. I need to learn as much as possible, and soon. Ameldi might be willing to wait as long as it takes, but I’m not.

Keltin recalled the red-haired beauty that had stayed behind with Jaylocke’s father Evik and the rest of their troupe. Despite their obvious closeness, the customs of their people forbade their marriage until Jaylocke had finished his apprenticeship and became a man in the eyes of the Weycliff. Looking at his friend, Keltin realized that it was more than the love of his family that the wayfarer was missing. Leaning forward, he placed a hand on Jaylocke’s arm.

I promise, we’ll make a beast hunter out of you. We’ll get you back in the good graces of your people.

But there aren’t any beast hunts.

We’ll find them. Wherever we have to go, we’ll find them.

Chapter 2 – Changing Times

Keltin turned onto South Hampton Street and saw Mrs. Galloway’s boarding house down the old familiar street. He led Jaylocke to the front door, pausing to knock off as much snow as he could from his boots and long jacket before stepping inside to feel the soaking, enveloping warmth of the place that had been his home since his mother and sister had gone to live in Maplewood.

That’s a welcome relief, said Jaylocke as he closed the door behind them and began shedding his heavy coat.

Keltin nodded as he removed his own outer layers and went in search of his landlady. He found the plump, ruddy-faced woman in her sitting room, perched on a low stool and running a duster over ornamental plates that had not seen dust for years.

Just a moment, please, she said without looking over her shoulder. Leaning far to the side, her precarious perch wobbled slightly. Keltin was across the room and holding her steady with a firm grip before she even had a chance to begin falling.

Oh, thank you. Mrs. Galloway craned her head back and suddenly recognized the man holding her. Keltin! You’re home! Keltin nearly dropped her as she tossed aside her duster and spun around to give him a fierce embrace. I was so worried when we heard of the revolution!

I wrote to you, said Keltin. Didn’t you get my letters with my rent money?

Of course, I did, but that didn’t mean that I stopped worrying about you.

Keltin chuckled and returned her tight squeeze. She finally pulled away enough to allow him to lower her to the ground. It wasn’t until

Reviews for Into the North

[Bailey Day · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

This was a great sequel to Lindsay Schopfer’s Beast Hunter. It was great fun to see new and old characters alike from the Keltin Moore series team up to fight new beasts. The beasts were again creative and the new setting felt even more invigorating than that of the last book. I also loved the dynamics between characters that were set up when the trials they faced were amongst themselves. To anyone who needs to read a good fantasy, this should be their next read!