Heroes Among Shadows

By Paul R McNamee

HEROES AMONG SHADOWS collects tales of adventure by Paul R. McNamee.

These stories will take you to tropical islands where spears and sorcery stand against gods and demons. You will meet a girl and her troll. Journey to a shadowy past where a veteran of the American Revolutionary War confronts dark forces. Travel to st

• Language: English
• Publisher: Frizzen Flash Press
• Release date: May 14, 2024
• ISBN: 9798990434417

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Paul R. McNamee

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HEROES AMONG SHADOWS

Copyright © 2024 Paul R. McNamee

Frizzen Flash Press

eBook ISBN-13: 979-8-9904344-1-7

All rights reserved. All stories copyright Paul R. McNamee.

First appearances:

Introduction is new to this collection, © 2024

Lono and the Little Gods in Sword’s Edge, Issue #24, © 2006

Pouring Whiskey in My Soul in Weirdbook #40, © 2018

The Pit of Punhaki (as Lono and the Pit of Punhaki) in The Mighty Warriors, © 2018

Claws of the Puma in Storyhack, Issue Three, © 2018

The Island of Shadows in Blood on the Blade, © 2021

The Wreck of the Black Swan in An Unholy Thirst, © 2021

The Vulture God (as Makani and the Vulture God) in Storyhack, Issue Five, © 2019

A Gate in Darkness in The Lost Empire of Sol, © 2021

The Toll Taker and the Troll is new to this collection, © 2024

Pearls of Uraton in Strange Worlds, © 2011

Montreal Is Burning is new to this collection, © 2024

Cover illustration and graphic design by Jeffrey Ray Hayes for Plasmafire Graphics, LLC

www.plasmafiregraphics.com

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, loving or dead, is entirely coincidental.

INTRODUCTION

Welcome to my first collection of short stories!

While I might not be prolifically published, I realized I had enough published work to create a collection. Because I straddled genres, I also realized such a collection would be eclectic and might give the reader whiplash.

So, I parsed out my horror stories into a one collection. The remainders mostly fell under heroic adventure or adventure fantasy. With some new stories to round out the wordcounts on each set of stories, I had the makings for two collections.

Hence, you now hold HEROES AMONG SHADOWS in your hands.

Aside from fixing typos or transposed words, (and shortening a few titles,) I strove to keep these stories as they first appeared, without rewrites.

These tales not arranged chronologically by publication date. Rather, they are in an order I thought best worked for the collection. You might find quality variance. We all start somewhere. I was always happy to be published. In some cases, the editor was as new to the game as I was.

We’re all learning. Or, we should be. Always.

Paul R. McNamee, from somewhere in Massachusetts

Spring 2024

LONO AND THE LITTLE GODS

Lono swung the shaft of his spear in an arc across the front of his body. He missed—again. He spun the weapon into thrusting position and drove the shark-tooth tip forward. The jagged point pierced air. His right leg buckled from a low blow behind his knee. Small hands balled into tight, hard fists pounded his body. One blow connected against his left temple, dazing him. On one knee, Lono braced his weight against the spear-butt to keep from falling over.

They closed in again; he could not see them but he felt them near. Recovering his wits, he swung his fist and connected with flesh and coarse hair. Something substantial thudded to the ground. One of the attackers was down—temporarily, at least.

The dark interior of Lono's hut flared into blazing torchlight. Momentarily as dazed as his attackers by the light, Lono squinted. From slit eyes he saw the ka-man, Makani, brandishing a war club in one hand and a lit torch in the other, cursing as he came to assist.

At the ka-man’s arrival the intruders scrambled back into the hole from which they had invaded Lono’s home—a hole they had burrowed in the dark of night, directly into his hut. Even in the torchlight, they were invisible. Only scrambling sounds and the sandy soil shifting under unseen feet indicated their retreat.

A high-pitched scream from underground echoed through some unknown cavern.

Give me my wife! Lono shouted in frustration, swinging again at air. The little gods were gone. Anakai!

He leapt to the hole, but it was too narrow to enter with his rangy build. The small gods had made the passage diameter enough for their diminutive bodies, and the thin body of his wife. He shouted her name down the hole, terrified for her, imagined the earth around her like a tomb.

He scrambled to his feet, bronze-skinned chest heaving from exertion and the rush of adrenaline. He glanced at the ka-man, whose complexion was similarly bronzed, the common hue found among islanders raised in a warm climate. Makani's frame was shorter and broader than Lono's build. Lono ignored the crowd gathering before his entranceway, attracted by the sounds of commotion.

He looked back to the hole. Why have they done this?

The ka-man shrugged. You need to ask them.

I can't scramble through the dirt like some worm!

We don't need to, Makani said, pointing to the earthen maw that had violated Lono's privacy and thrown his simple life into chaos. The little gods work stone, rarely earth. You heard the echo of Anakai's scream? There must be a stone chamber below, tunnels large enough even for us to pass.

The ka-man's blazing torch faded, consumed quickly by a flame Lono attributed to magic. Lono felt despair; the torch's death was a second sunset in a single day's time.

Makani lit another torch, this one sputtering and not enhanced by magic.

Gather weapons, water and food, Makani ordered.

Lono wasted no time.

They left behind a village murmuring in mourning and fear. Anakai was a popular member of the community, and she was considered a good luck charm. Fishing had been over-bountiful ever since her arrival. Though they feared the wrath of the little gods, no one challenged the duo's departure, especially with the presence of the ka-man. Lono thought it bad enough the little gods had ventured into the lands of the Kanae. Lono did not know their purpose with his wife, and he did not want anyone else involved in dealing with gods and spirits on his behalf. If the little gods had dealings with Lono, then he would let the consequences be on his own head.

Why do they want her?

You're the one who married the daughter of a goddess, Makani said nonchalantly. Bound to be trouble.

Lono's temper rose. It was hardly a time for humor. He glared at his friend's face and saw a wry grin, genuine and without malice. He could not help but grin, too. If Makani were not overly concerned, he would not be either. Who better to have at his side against the little gods than a ka-man?

You're the one who introduced us, Lono reminded Makani. And didn't mention that her mother was Thura until the day before we wed!

The ka-man wrinkled a brow at the mention of Thura, the goddess of the sea.

What? Lono demanded.

Nothing, said the ka-man, shaking his head.

At the side of a rocky hill, covered in dense greenery, Makani paused and spoke strange words—a language foreign to all except ka-men and witches. The vines clinging to the rock face untangled, revealing an opening in the side of the hill.

The entrance led into a network of tunnels, glistening with moisture. Makani navigated through the porous black rock as naturally as the little gods might have. Lono had been friends with Makani since they were children. For the most part, Lono felt no change in his friend since Makani had taken the mantle of ka-man. But there had been moments when he tangentially touched the ka-man's world and his skin had bumped up in chicken flesh. He wondered just how much of his friend's life was spent between the world they knew, and the spirit world—and in which world, he wondered, did Makani feel more at home?

Lono's burning leg muscles signaled they were traveling upward. Eventually they emerged on top of a jagged ridge that followed a line of densely forested hills, stretching far into the dawning daylight. Eating and drinking, they trotted along the little gods’ spoor. They dipped into a valley, thick with vegetation. Lono could see the trail clearly; crushed leaves of ferns, broken branches and the pink petals of disturbed koli'i shrubs revealed the little gods' rush through the jungle.

We will catch them now! Lono declared, his excitement growing.

Will we?

Isn't it said they turn to stone in daylight?

Fine work that would be, Makani grunted. Make our lives easier. Until, of course, we needed to break off hands that had turned to stone around your wife's arms and legs!

What of the other stories, then? Lono protested. Surely they will visible under the light of day.

Barely, Makani answered. Unless they are out in the open, under the blazing sun.

Lono's confidence faltered. It had been difficult to fight the little gods in darkness, but with their innate invisibility, daylight offered no advantage either.

The track led further into the valley, disappearing into a gap in a wall of bamboo trees. Lono wondered if the bamboo was natural or if the little gods had planted the wall, ages before, as a territorial warning line. If it were a warning, he ignored it without a second thought. He would not stop for any taboo of man, god or demon until Anakai was back in his arms.

Beyond the bamboo wall the forest was unnaturally dark under its canopy of thick green leaves of ohi'a trees. Lono had hunted boars in deep jungles many times. He felt as comfortable among the trees as he felt upon the open sea in an outrigger. But the forest of the little gods projected malevolence that clutched at his ka and played tricks with his mind.

I feel like they are watching us, Lono whispered.

Oh, they are, Makani said. The ka-man clutched his paddle-shaped war club. Inlaid eyes of paua shell glared balefully from the carved face on its reddish hardwood surface while the tongue poked out with defiance.

Lono planted one spear in the ground and readied the other in his hand.

The jungle erupted in uproar. Squawking birds took flight and small animals shrieked in alarm. The little gods wailed and screamed. Something large moved through the dense brush. Heavy feet thundered the ground.

A moa bird crashed through the underbrush directly behind Makani. The ka-man spun, but had little time to react. The flat of his war club slapped against the giant bipedal flightless bird's neck. The momentum of its leg knocked Makani aside. A second bird leapt from the thicket. The two moas were large—legs equal to the height of a man. Normally they were frightened of men, and would run unless cornered or protecting their young. Lono could see the ground-level woven ring of branches and leaves of the giant birds' nest. The little gods had led the two men into a natural trap.

From its feathered markings, Lono knew that he faced the male. The bird towered over him, raked at him with its powerful legs, trying to strike with its wicked talons. Lono avoided evisceration, stung the bird's limb with a jab of his spear. The bird squawked and snapped its head down at Lono. The hooked hawk-beak was strong and sharp enough to snap wood. Lono dodged to the side, beating the creature's head with the shaft of his spear.

Makani groaned loudly and rolled over onto his hands and knees. The female bird snatched clumsily, missing the ka-man. Makani scrambled behind the cover of a tree trunk. The bird's head and neck darted past the side of the tree like a striking serpent. Golden brown feathers rubbed off against the rough bark and danced in the air. Makani pressed against the tree, circling close to the trunk as the bird maneuvered for another strike.

Lono redoubled his efforts. He curled one spear shaft under his arm, keeping the point out and the moa's snapping head at bay. Lacking a shield, he held the second spear across his body. There wasn't much leverage to wield the weapon properly, and against a human foe it would be useless. But the bird was an animal, not a thinking man. He kept the alternating clutching legs at bay, tangling the claws with the crosswise shaft, but he found no chance for offense.

Lono heard a sharp crack. The female moa screeched in pain and thrust its head up toward the sky. Lono saw the long fracture in its beak, and saw the expression of grim satisfaction on Makani's face as he brandished his war club.

The male moa glanced briefly at its mate, concerned for her pain. Lono dropped the spear from his left hand and charged forward with the braced spear. He caught the moa under the breastbone, and drove the spear as deep and as high as he could, willing it through the tough flesh, hoping to rupture the heart or some other vital organ.

The bird screeched until gurgling blood muted its voice. Lono could not hold the spear against the spastic bird's great weight. He let go. The mortally wounded male careened wildly and slammed into its mate, knocking them both off balance. The dying bird collapsed in a heap. In panic and fear, the female bird crashed away into the jungle.

Lono hoped it would step on a little god for the trouble they had caused.

The ka-man winced as he pushed upright and sat against the tree. Lono saw the paleness under his friend's tan flesh. The ka-man held his side.

Did it crack your rib? Lono crouched beside his friend.

Probably more than one, Makani hissed through the pain.

Lono felt a tug at his waist. He whirled, but it was too late. His dagger leapt through the air, held by an unseen hand, and darted at the ka-man’s throat.

But it stopped short, pressing against the side of the injured ka-man’s neck.

What do you want? Lono said, trying to stay calm in spite of his temper and his frustration.

"What do you want?" a rasping voice replied. It sounded like dirt shaking onto and pouring over rock.

My wife, Lono said. He wanted to add derogatory comments concerning tiny demons but held his tongue for the sake of his friend.

And know this, little god, Makani spoke with deliberate calm hiding any hint of pain. We will not rest until Anakai returns to her husband.

His friend’s words and attitude stirred passion in Lono’s breast. My death or your deaths, little god, are all that can stop me from taking back my wife!

Kanae, the little god’s voice reflected a sneer they could not see. Mere men. You boast of battling gods?

The knife was tossed to the ground at Lono’s feet. The little god's voice came from everywhere as he kept circling around them, careful not to stay in one spot where they might discern his position and attack. The thick shadows from the roof of the forest kept him invisible. Once or twice Lono caught a glimpse of gray when the tiny god passed quickly through a sunbeam.

Are you brave enough, Kanae, the little god asked. To storm into the chamber of the king of the little gods and take back your wife?

Who is this king? Lono demanded.

He is called Kaang. Do not let his size deceive you. Have my little brothers not already taken your wife? The little god asked rhetorically, though the words held more taunt than his inflection. Will you storm his hall and take his head to regain the woman?

I have already said as much, Lono said. What does it matter to you? And by what name are you known?

My name is Toku, the disembodied voice answered. And I would see Kaang dead.

Do you wish to take his throne? Makani chuckled mirthlessly between clenched teeth. Are the gods as petty as the Kanae? As weak as a man with dreams of ruling over others?

Let us say I want to see you rescue your wife from his clutches, the small god told Lono. So, we both want the same thing.

Then you will lead us to this hall as soon as my friend can move, Lono told Toku. He did not care if the little god took offense at being given an order by a Kanae.

The tiny god spoke ruefully. If Kaang takes her as a wife, the bond cannot be undone.

Lono looked sharply at the source of the voice. She is my wife, and that is the bond that won't be broken.

Kaang is a king of gods, Toku explained. Your wife is the Daughter of the Sea—a goddess that chose human form. Because you are mortal, Kaang sees your claim on her as meaningless and void.

And what do you believe? Makani asked.

I believe if you kill Kaang, Toku answered. No other gods would bother you over the matter of this woman ever again.

Lono looked to his injured friend. He did not want to leave the ka-man behind, wounded and alone.

Go, I can take care of myself, Makani said.

Lono’s hands squeezed and wrung the shaft of his spear. Lead the way, little god.

Lono followed Toku's strange singing. He could only discern bits of the lyrics, but the song held the theme of fleeting love. The song sounded like a dirge coming from that gravely voice.

Clouds hurried across the late afternoon sky. A sharp mountain jutted skyward. Vegetation managed timorous holds upon its sloping surfaces and sharp angled crags. A cave sat halfway up the side of the great peak.

That is the home of the little gods?

We make homes where we please, said Toku. But that is our king's great dwelling place.

The black volcanic rock of the mountain cut Lono's feet and hands as he scrambled upward. The wind pushed against his progress as he rose above the canopy of the forest trees. He wondered if magic of the little gods drove the breeze. Did they know he was coming? What of Toku? Was he to be trusted? Lono pushed away the distracting thoughts. Nothing mattered more than saving his wife from the clutches of the little gods. He would deal with anything that stood in his way.

He rested at the cave mouth and peered into the inky darkness. Toku? What now?

I must leave, already I will have been missed. Toku explained. Go down, ever down. You will then find three tunnels. Take the center.

And my torch? Lono asked. They will know I come.

Did you mean to take the king by stealth, in his own world of darkness? Toku snorted. Perhaps your mind is as dull as I first thought.

Lono did not reply.

Feel your way along the walls, strike like a snake in the night, Toku advised. The little god's words were already fading into the maw of the cave, echoing slightly. Or, stride in with torch aloft and make your challenge. I do not think the outcome will change.

Lono did not appreciate the slur against his courage, but Toku was too far ahead to hear any retort. Lono lit his last torch and entered the cave.

The passage downward was a natural tunnel, though the floor had been worn smooth by centuries of the stocky gods entering and leaving their subterranean stronghold. With spear in one hand and torch in the other, Lono had no free hand for balance. More than once his legs slipped and he landed hard against the rock. By the time