Chapter Text
Having scored the first points in the battle by drawing first blood, it would have been easy for Ianto to get a bit carried away celebrating what was in reality a very minor victory over the current threat. Thankfully, Ianto-crow’s human side urged caution, overriding his crow half’s natural exuberance. The raven man was angry now, which was good in one respect, since in meant he might grow careless, but it also increased Ianto-crow’s danger. A wounded opponent could be unpredictable, anger overcoming sense.
Ianto backed off for a moment to consider his options. There was nothing to be gained by changing back into a human; that would only make him a bigger target, more easily seen in the dimness, and far less agile. Not to mention he’d be naked and cold, since the fight wasn’t likely to pause so he could get dressed.
True, in a fight his human form was better than his crow form at a lot of things, but right now, even though he would have liked to see what effect his Torchwood special automatic might have on this monster, his wings, beak, and claws would be a lot more use to him than bare feet and hands. That being the case, it looked like defeating this creature would have to be the responsibility of Super Crow!
Well, okay, Ianto-crow didn’t have any special superpowers, if you didn’t count his combined human and crow intellect and his Torchwood training, but raven man didn’t know that, and neither did his raven familiars. They were mostly bluster though, a lot of croaking and hissing, but little else. Ianto wasn’t discounting them, not entirely; he’d keep half an eye on them, just in case they decided to join the fray, but their master had to be the main focus of his attention.
He circled slowly, high enough that he wasn’t easy to spot, a black bird against a black sky, his wings making barely a whisper of sound in the still night air as he glided with only the occasional flap in order to remain airborne. Watching and waiting, Ianto picked his moment, then dived, coming at the creature from above and behind, reaching out, the claws of one foot snatching for the leather thongs tying the spear blade to the shaft, getting a firm grip, and tugging hard…
It was like grabbing a live wire; a tingling shock went through Ianto’s body, and he let go, twisting convulsively in the air, wings beating powerfully to gain altitude. Behind him, he heard the crackle that signified another gout of blue fire being unleashed, and he felt an icy sensation that chilled his left wing to the bone as the flame missed him by no more than an inch, striking a nearby branch and shattering it. Ianto-crow banked right at a steep angle. That was too close!
He flapped his wings hard, forcing sensation back into the chilled one, pushing aside the dull ache in the fragile bones. Fire that could burn both hot and cold; that was unexpected. So was the power in the spear itself, like electricity flowing through it. He needed to re-think his strategy, and fast!
The key was still the spear, he felt even more certain about that, but if ripping away the leather thongs securing the blade to the shaft wasn’t an option, what did that leave? Maybe he could force the raven man to let go of the spear. The mysterious being had those sharp metal talons attached to his gauntlets, but his fingers were bare, and crow beaks were both strong and sharp. He didn’t relish the idea of trying to snap his opponent’s fingers off; getting a beakful of the entity’s blood wasn’t an appealing thought, but if it came down to that, he’d give it a go. As crow or human, he wasn’t especially squeamish; working for Torchwood tended to cure people of that tendency, which was fortunate.
First, though, perhaps he should go for the eyes. Those baleful blue orbs were casting about, trying to locate him, and he had no way of knowing how good his opponent’s night vision might be. He’d have to watch out for the beak, but if he came in at an angle, from behind, above, and to the right, the side away from the spear… It would take some fancy flying, but it was worth a try.
Circling one more time, as the raven man turned his head back and forth, trying to pick out the shadowy form of a crow amidst the deeper shadows beneath the trees, Ianto waited patiently until his opponent turned his head away, then dived steeply to pick up momentum, swerving at the last moment, raking his outstretched talons across the creature’s face in a vicious downward slash… He felt the sharp claw tips penetrate flesh, so deeply they scraped against bone, and then Ianto-crow was away again, gaining altitude, striving to get out of range.
An almost ear-splitting screech erupted from the raven man, who swung the spear at the retreating crow in a savage arc. Ianto-crow felt the breeze from the blade and for a split-second thought it had missed him entirely, until he felt it snag against his tail, severing the very tips of two or three feathers…
It stung a little, not really a physical pain, although perhaps a small amount of the spear’s energy was transmitted through his feathers. Mostly, Ianto-crow felt peeved at having any part of his glossy plumage marred by this monster. He was proud of his feathers; they were an important part of his identity as a crow, just as his tailored suits were an important part of his human identity. He was who he was, in either form.
Still, as he alighted on a high branch, looking down at the enemy, he saw that his latest assault on the raven man had been a success. Now there was only one glowing blue eye where before there had been two. He scraped his claws clean on the rough bark, studying the scene below as the one-eyed monster stooped to pick up his hat from the ground, replacing it on his head.
The hat would get in the way of any attempt at the other eye, which was unfortunate; Ianto-crow would first have to rip it off a second time, which would alert his opponent to what he was planning. So, clearly, he wouldn’t gain anything by repeating the same tactic. Raven man was now blind in his right eye, however. Could Ianto use that to his advantage?
Sadly, since this being held the spear in his left hand, the lack of his right eye probably wouldn’t hamper him much. Depth perception would hopefully be affected, and perhaps that would result in poor aim, but Ianto-crow still needed to disarm this threat, and the sooner the better. He couldn’t keep fighting all night. It looked like he would have to take a risk, strike at the creature’s left hand, try to cause enough damage that he would have to switch the spear to his blind side.
The raven familiars had so far stayed out of the fight, but as Ianto-crow took to the air this time, so did they, flapping towards him, croaking loudly. As the first two neared him, coming from opposite directions, hoping to catch him between them, he folded his wings and dropped like a stone, causing his attackers to collide in a tangle of flailing wings and slashing claws, feathers flying. Spreading his wings, he soared upwards again, laughing at the birds’ predicament.
“Caw! Clumsy oafs! You need flying lessons! Caw!”
The third raven dived for him, but Ianto-crow went into a steep climb, twisted in the air as his attacker followed him, turned upside down for a moment, and closed his claws tightly around the raven’s leg. Righting himself and flipping the raven beneath him, upside down and helpless, he dived for the ground again, slamming the hapless bird into a marshy pool, releasing its leg, and shooting upwards once more at an angle.
The manoeuvre had taken him in a dangerous direction, however, straight towards the raven man’s upright spear! He back-winged desperately, claws stretched out ahead of him, hoping he could push off from the spear shaft without damaging himself. It was an awkward manoeuvre, but one foot caught against the spear, just below the blade, his leg bending to absorb the shock of impact, then straightening, driving him away again, his talons curling…
A scream of rage came from below, and it was only as Ianto-crow spiralled upwards, heart hammering and lungs labouring, that he realised there was something clutched in his foot: a ragged bunch of raven feathers, torn from the spear’s shaft. Even as that registered, two of the ravens, their eyes no longer glowing, flapped frantically away into the trees, making good their escape. The one he’d dunked into the marsh floundered its way to solid ground, shook itself, and with a distressed croak, flapped and hopped away across the cemetery.
Temporarily out of breath and needing to gather himself, Ianto-crow landed in a tree and stared at the feathers gripped in his claws. Huh! Looked like he may have just inadvertently broken the raven man’s control over his familiars! Okay, not exactly planned, but he’d take it. Whatever worked, right? At least now he might not need to worry about attacks from unexpected directions. A single opponent had to be better than four.
No longer lord of the ravens, the creature began to stalk ponderously across the marshy ground at this end of the old cemetery, heading for slightly dryer ground. Beyond that was the entrance to the cemetery, past the small, disused church, which Ianto thought he recalled had been abandoned due to subsidence in the area caused by the collapse of some old mining tunnels.
It made Ianto wonder whether a crack between dimensions had somehow developed in the shifting underground strata, allowing this malevolent creature to slip through, aided by the Rift. Or maybe it had been buried there sometime in the past, when the church and the cemetery had still been holy ground, trapped for what should have been eternity, unable to escape and wreak havoc, until a localised Rift event had released it. There was little chance he’d ever find out, though. Not that any of that mattered.
Whatever the case, obviously Ianto couldn’t let the creature make good its escape. If it got away from here, there was a possibility that it might be stronger away from an area that must still be sanctified, at least to a degree. He couldn’t risk that, so if he was going to defeat this menace, he would have to do it soon, before it managed to get out into the world.
At least here, his opponent seemed to be penned in. The walls surrounding the cemetery were not tall, and there were several places where they’d collapsed partway and could be easily stepped over, and yet raven man was making towards the only gate… There had to be a reason for that; maybe the wall, despite the damage to it, still formed a barrier that was impenetrable to a being that radiated such a pall of evil.
Taking to the air again, Ianto swept low over the raven man, snatching his hat once more, shuddering at the skin-like texture, then swerved away and dropped the ugly thing in the wettest part of the marsh he could see, just to annoy the enemy. Okay, it was petty, but so what? This was a battle against something otherworldly, something seething with malevolence, so underhand tactics were totally allowed. Ianto-crow passed over the cemetery wall, flew parallel to it for a few seconds, all the time watching the raven man as he turned slowly, trying to locate his antagonist, then as soon as the birdman’s back was towards him, he flew hard and fast towards the creature’s spear hand, aiming for a couple of inches of bare arm between the end of the leather gauntlet and the edge of the sleeve.
He clamped his claws into the arm, digging them in as deep as he could. From this position, the spear couldn’t be turned against him, and he took advantage of that fact by tearing with his beak at the fingers gripping the spear’s shaft, drawing foul black blood in the process, but breaking at least two of the digits. Raven man reacted quickly though, lashing out with his right hand, fist clenched, metal claws slashing… only to cut deep into his own left arm, because Ianto-crow was already gone, soaring skyward once more.
For his next attack, after dipping low enough over a puddle to rinse his beak out, Ianto landed briefly on the monster’s head, claws raking towards its face, but missing the single glowing eye because the angle was wrong. Still, he pulled out more feathers from his opponent’s scalp, so it wasn’t a complete failure. Anything that caused damage was good. It would hopefully help to wear the enemy down.
Ianto-crow was also growing weary though; it was night, and he’d had a long day even before the Rift alert that had brought him out here. He should be back at the Hub, relaxing, perhaps enjoying a late dinner with Jack, not playing tag with some entity from a Hell dimension. At this point, it was a race to see who would run out of steam first, and for the sake of Cardiff, not to mention the rest of the world, it had better not be a certain valiant were-crow. He couldn’t fail!
Diving on the birdman again, Ianto-crow’s talons tore at the back of its neck, drawing more black blood, and ripping a hole in the already ragged black cloak the being wore. Soaring away before his opponent could retaliate, he gained altitude before stooping like a hawk, plunging straight at the raven man’s face. It was a risky move, and he had to pull out of the dive before he was close enough to strike as the enemy lashed out with those metal claws, but he turned sharply to come back, striking at the already injured arm, this time wrenching the being’s thumb from its socket.
The spear fell from the raven man’s broken hand, and he screamed, his form wavering, like smoke being torn apart by a wind, even though there wasn’t so much as a hint of a breeze, the air so still the world seemed to be holding its breath. Ianto dived again, driving the tattered creature backwards, deeper into the cemetery again, taking satisfaction from the way the monster floundered in the increasingly marshy ground.
Still, the spear seemed to be the source of this being’s power and strength, perhaps all that allowed it to take shape in this dimension, and Ianto remembered all too well how raven man had coalesced from shadows beginning with a hand gripping the spear’s shaft. Could that happen again? Could this creature form itself anew, begin the fight all over again? It was a chance Ianto couldn’t take, so he gave up his harrying pursuit and returned to the spear, landing beside it and tearing with his beak at the leather thongs securing the blade in place.
Blue fire flickered feebly, and Ianto-crow felt an occasional tingle of static electricity, but it was nothing compared to what he’d felt go through him earlier in the fight. He kept one eye on the raven man, abandoning his task to attack the menace whenever it tried to approach, then resuming pulling at the leather bindings until at last they gave way. As the intricately engraved spearhead at last came free, the former lord of the ravens gave one final furious screech of rage and was simply… gone.
Ianto-crow breathed a sigh of relief. “Caw! Good riddance to bad rubbish!” he muttered, before tackling the leather bindings along the length of the spear shaft, loosening them until the spear was nothing more than an old, worn wooden stick. Only then did he fly back to where he’d left his clothes and re-take human form, quickly re-dressing against the chill of an autumn night.
Returning to the spear, he pulled on a pair of gloves from his coat pocket, for whatever protection they might afford him, picked up the spear shaft, and broke it in half over his knee. Then he broke each of the halves into two by leaning them against a convenient grave marker and stamping on them. When he got back to the Hub, the pieces of wood and the leather thongs were going straight in the incinerator. The blade… Well, maybe that could be melted down somehow.
Fetching a couple of containment boxes from the SUV, Ianto dropped the leather and the broken shaft in one, and the blade into the other, then stalked across the cemetery to retrieve the hat, picking it up in one gloved hand, holding it out at arm’s length, gripping the very edge of the brim between thumb and forefinger. That could go in the incinerator too; he didn’t know exactly WHAT it was made from, and he really didn’t want to know. He could still remember what it had felt like, gripped in his claws.
As he loaded everything into the SUV’s boot, he wondered what exactly he should write in his report. Not that he didn’t think Jack would believe him, not after their other encounters with weird, possibly supernatural, beings, but future generations of Torchwood agents might raise their eyebrows at an epic battle between a raven man and a were-crow. Then again, that was Torchwood, wasn’t it? Weirdness was the name of the game.
Closing the boot, Ianto stared out across the abandoned cemetery; it looked still now, and perfectly normal, the shining blue runes that had been etched into the branches of the dying tree down the far end when the raven man first materialised were gone, or at least no longer shining. Perhaps tomorrow he’d come back and make sure they were really gone… Better safe than sorry.
He wondered if he should perhaps bring an axe…
The End